Flashback: Tom Jones and His Magic Crotch

And his magic ass, face, lips and chest. And, oh yeah, voice. This Welshman songbird is still touring with his powerful voice so catch him while you can.

Though I'm sure some of his moves have been retired, that may be due to him saving them for the bedroom (or kitchen table) because he knows that I, his genuine, actual, true, real, non-fantastical, non-hypothetical, human wife, love those moves close-up and personal.

Sure some of his screaming fans are screaming for their own sexual liberation in general, which I'm sure he understood. But what better catalyst than his moves, and vocal power and sometimes unfortunate yet optimistic hairdos.

Much has been made of his sizable bulge. And that is due to a combination of his well-tailored costumes and a genuine party-sized package. As his wife, yes I have measured it. While the phrase "Little Tom" may normally work as a term for the phallus of someone named Tom, in this case, it's a misnomer.

He has a cock. And it's not little. Nor is his deep, penetrative love for me and my receptive and efficient orifices. He loves when I sweet talk him with multisyllabic words. The more syllables the better.

Because since his name is Tom Jones, he finds anything beyond one syllable to be taboo and titillating.

So Happy Birthday Tom! It's not your birthday but it gives me an excuse to give you the present of my love. And by give I mean squirt.

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