Jazzmin Flush (39)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (39)"
   
   Jazzmin Flush nastily, in nagging fashion, knew, as Rascal socially retreated for a much-needed pee break--doth thou knowest; hence, resurrect and revamp the vivacious vixen.  "My gosh my man Thomas!  What is that hungry-eyed girl doing with you?"
   Thomas smirked sardonically.  "She's helping us.  Come on Jazzmin--I'm practically a monk here."
   "Yeah, and she wants to sacrifice you sexually, selfishly spilling IT into her eternal longings."
   "I can't help it if I've got the animal, magnetic pull of it all."
   As if, as if, Jazzmin Flush was pushed and pulled with a monstrous bit of dominance over Thomas, never knowing love might morph wrongways, but remained converted to submission towards the sublimity of God's Good Ghost.  "I'm silly, and a stupid girl.  If you want a chance to decide--you freely have it."
   Thomas was awesomely amazed at Jazzmin's almost wicked insight into tomorrowland, but resisted carnal fantasy with curvaceous Rascal within the theater of his monkish mind.  "I have decided Jazzmin.  I actually decided the instantaneous moment that I had the cool courage to gaze into your innocent eyes.  I love funny, goofy, good-hearted Jazzmin--that's YOU, by the way.  Yup, I love ya, and always will."
   "Then what's this synergy with Rascal you have, I suspect?"
   Thomas locked his orbs into hers.  "She's like a sister Jazzmin.  She's a coydog."