Back when I was 14, there was this chick, Teresa, who used to come over to my grandmothers house with my cousins girlfriend. She was hot, very hot. Blonde hair, a body carved out of humpstone, she had a great smile thanks to braces, but the best thing about her was her pink nosed puppies. These things were huge; tits of a goddess. They looked like giant marshmallows; big, soft and ready to be licked.
She was about 4 years older than me, but that didn’t stop me from trying to make a move on her. It was during the summer, the 4th of July to be exact; my entire family was at the lake. Teresa and I were inside playing Mario Brothers on the Nintendo. She was wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt over her bikini and I was getting the vibe that she wanted to bang me. I made my move by putting my hand on her leg. I then started to move my hand up her thigh and she cut me off by removing my hand and asking me: What in the hell are you doing? I was crushed by the embarrassment, and even more crushed when some of my older cousins found out about this and started calling me 'Stiffy'. Oh yea, Teresa also saw that in my haze of lust for her, I had developed quite the erection.
From then on I avoided going over to my grandmothers when Teresa was there and I was successful in avoiding her until yesterday...
Twice a month I have a maid service come out and clean my house. For about the last year, an older black woman named Odette has been my cleaning lady. She’s very quiet, just comes in, says hello and then gets the job done. I always buy her a 2 Liter Dr. Pepper and this time I was going to give her a jar of my grandmother’s homemade pickles.
The only problem is that Odette hurt her back and the maid service had to send another maid, Teresa. Yes, the same Teresa who was so hot several years back is now a cleaning lady. Mind you, I’m not talking down on cleaning women, but Teresa was a #1 draft pick back in the day. I guess she would rank as an all time draft bust; a Ryan Leaf or a Tony Mandarich or an Alex Smith.
Her blonde hair has been replaced with pork-n-bean brown. Her body, while still not real bad, is now worn, and those great marshmallow tits look as if they have been roasted over a campfire. Her left arm has been biker ganged in that from her hand to her elbow is now covered in tattoos. I have seen some women make tattoos look sexy, almost classy. Unfortunately, Teresa is not one of those women. To be fair, it would be tough for any woman to make a skull with a rebel flag background painted on her forearm look sexy. Maybe Marisa Miller or Jessica Alba could pull it off, but I highly doubt it.
I didn’t even recognize Teresa. Once I let her in, I went out and did some shopping. After I got home and was upstairs checking out TI, Teresa opened the door and said: Hey, Stump. Come here when you get a minute. I thought this was strange since she had been calling me Mr. Lastname the entire time. I went down and she said: Do you realize who I am? I thought maybe she was one of America’s Most Wanted or maybe a washed out porno star. I looked at her for a little bit and then said:
Stump: No, I have no idea who you are.
Teresa: I’m Teresa. Beth’s friend. I used to come over to your grandmothers all the time.
The first thing that popped into my mind was what happened at the lake that day and all that embarrassment came rushing back. The only thing I could say was: I used to have the biggest crush on you.
We talked for a while and then I went back upstairs. Probably 15 minutes later, she came up there and said: You know how you used to have a crush on me? Well, I have a crush on you.
After saying that she just stood there staring at me. I didn’t know what to say so I said:
Stump: Aren’t you married?
Teresa: Yes, but he’s in jail.
Stump: So what do you want to do?
Teresa: You
Through all the tattoo ink and the stringy hair and the mechanic rag look she had going on, I could still see that #1 draft pick, so I said: What the hell and proceeded to beat her brakes off right there on the floor of my upstairs. She smelled like cigarettes and commode cleaner, but all in all she wasn’t a bad lay. Once I finished her off, she went back downstairs, finished cleaning, took her pickles and left. I spent the rest of the day catching up on my DVR and feeling vindicated. To be honest, today I feel even better about myself. I don't even look back on that day at the lake and feel embarrassment
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Corn fritters
Due to my injuries I am totally depending on family and friends to care for me. Yesterday, my mother was supposed to come over and help out but she came down with SARS or Ebola or maybe it is the flu, I'm not really sure; at any rate, she wasn’t able to come over. My youngest sister is back in school, my older sisters don't give a crap, nor does my father, and my brother, well, he is too worried about snatch to care, so it looked as though I was on my own yesterday. Thankfully, my mom was able to get one of her friends, Sharon, to come over and help me.
Sharon is an old crush of mine. In fact, she is the first woman I can ever remember giving me wood. As a young lad, I could just see her and instantly be harder than a Chinese tangram. She was beautiful; blonde hair, good face and a nice rack. Her only flaw was a flat(ish) rump.
Sharon is now in her mid-50's, but she is still an attractive woman. She has the slightly wrinkled face, you can tell her boobs are quite saggy, and if not for some dye, she would have a head full of gray hair, but like I said, she is still an attractive older woman. According to my mother, Sharon hasn’t been happy in her marriage for quite some time. I remember when Sharon’s mom died and her husband, Gilbert, went hunting rather than going to the funeral. Sharon stayed at our house for a few days after that ordeal. I don’t even think they sleep in the same room anymore, but they have remained married because of their kids.
So Sharon comes over with several grocery bags full of food and says she is going to cook me a nice meal. Considering, for the most part, I have been living off of Lean Pockets and bagels, I welcomed her offer. She cooked-up a batch of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, gravy and these little drops of delight she called "corn fritters". I ate as much as my stomach would allow. Sharon sat there forking what little food was on her plate and eye-balling me. If she had not been a friend of my moms and just some random chick, I would have thought she was flirting with me, but I just thought that was her way of being nice.
Once I finished, she helped me over to the couch and as she was getting me comfortable, she was bent over and I could see down her shirt and I'm not talking about just seeing a little bra, I saw everything and I'm sure Sharon saw my excitement protruding from my sweat pants. Once I was comfortable, I thought she would leave, but she started giving me a shoulder massage and asking me if that felt good. I'm going to be honest, at this point I felt slightly uncomfortable; almost like she was some sort of child molester. I really can’t explain the feeling I had.
From that point, she walked around and started pulling my sweats down. I just sat there in amazement as she took to blowing my meat whistle and then she starts asking me if "momma is doing a good job". Please understand I am all about some dirty talk. Im cool with calling a girl a bitch, whore, slut, trash; anything she wants. I've even been known to slap a girl around a little when the mood is right for that type of thing, but when a chick starts calling herself "momma" it freaks me out, and considering this woman is my moms age, it was almost as if, at least in my minds-eye, that......I can't even say it and she wouldn’t stop: "Ummm....Momma likes that" "You want Momma to lick your balls?" "Give Momma your milk."
It was a total turnoff, but I didn’t stop her. From that point, she got down on the floor, pulled her pants off and started paddling the pink canoe and I just sat there watching. Her cooch looked old; like a tattered Indian moccasin or Dick Clark's elbow, but still, I sat there watching.
I've never been with a woman post-hysterectomy, so I really don't know if a woman's juices start to clabber once their cogs are removed, but Sharon's was leaking something. I remember one time when I left a jug of milk in my refrigerator for, like, 6 months and it got all clumpy and chunky; that is what this stuff looked like that was oozing out of her chasm. After a few minutes of her doing that, she got up and started riding me, and, honestly, she did it better than I was expecting. Her nipples were a bit hefty and a little on the flappy side, but she was quite enthusiastic in her riding, and, yes, she kept saying the "Momma" stuff which, of course, gave me a mental block.
She got off and I faked one. After she finished, she got dressed, cleaned the kitchen and left. She said she was coming back this afternoon, but I don’t think I am going to answer the door.
Sharon is an old crush of mine. In fact, she is the first woman I can ever remember giving me wood. As a young lad, I could just see her and instantly be harder than a Chinese tangram. She was beautiful; blonde hair, good face and a nice rack. Her only flaw was a flat(ish) rump.
Sharon is now in her mid-50's, but she is still an attractive woman. She has the slightly wrinkled face, you can tell her boobs are quite saggy, and if not for some dye, she would have a head full of gray hair, but like I said, she is still an attractive older woman. According to my mother, Sharon hasn’t been happy in her marriage for quite some time. I remember when Sharon’s mom died and her husband, Gilbert, went hunting rather than going to the funeral. Sharon stayed at our house for a few days after that ordeal. I don’t even think they sleep in the same room anymore, but they have remained married because of their kids.
So Sharon comes over with several grocery bags full of food and says she is going to cook me a nice meal. Considering, for the most part, I have been living off of Lean Pockets and bagels, I welcomed her offer. She cooked-up a batch of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, gravy and these little drops of delight she called "corn fritters". I ate as much as my stomach would allow. Sharon sat there forking what little food was on her plate and eye-balling me. If she had not been a friend of my moms and just some random chick, I would have thought she was flirting with me, but I just thought that was her way of being nice.
Once I finished, she helped me over to the couch and as she was getting me comfortable, she was bent over and I could see down her shirt and I'm not talking about just seeing a little bra, I saw everything and I'm sure Sharon saw my excitement protruding from my sweat pants. Once I was comfortable, I thought she would leave, but she started giving me a shoulder massage and asking me if that felt good. I'm going to be honest, at this point I felt slightly uncomfortable; almost like she was some sort of child molester. I really can’t explain the feeling I had.
From that point, she walked around and started pulling my sweats down. I just sat there in amazement as she took to blowing my meat whistle and then she starts asking me if "momma is doing a good job". Please understand I am all about some dirty talk. Im cool with calling a girl a bitch, whore, slut, trash; anything she wants. I've even been known to slap a girl around a little when the mood is right for that type of thing, but when a chick starts calling herself "momma" it freaks me out, and considering this woman is my moms age, it was almost as if, at least in my minds-eye, that......I can't even say it and she wouldn’t stop: "Ummm....Momma likes that" "You want Momma to lick your balls?" "Give Momma your milk."
It was a total turnoff, but I didn’t stop her. From that point, she got down on the floor, pulled her pants off and started paddling the pink canoe and I just sat there watching. Her cooch looked old; like a tattered Indian moccasin or Dick Clark's elbow, but still, I sat there watching.
I've never been with a woman post-hysterectomy, so I really don't know if a woman's juices start to clabber once their cogs are removed, but Sharon's was leaking something. I remember one time when I left a jug of milk in my refrigerator for, like, 6 months and it got all clumpy and chunky; that is what this stuff looked like that was oozing out of her chasm. After a few minutes of her doing that, she got up and started riding me, and, honestly, she did it better than I was expecting. Her nipples were a bit hefty and a little on the flappy side, but she was quite enthusiastic in her riding, and, yes, she kept saying the "Momma" stuff which, of course, gave me a mental block.
She got off and I faked one. After she finished, she got dressed, cleaned the kitchen and left. She said she was coming back this afternoon, but I don’t think I am going to answer the door.
Monday, March 24, 2008
The one that got away
I know some of you like to fish. I am also sure each one of you sportsmen have a tale about the “one that got away”. Maybe it's a 33 point buck, or a 27 pound bass or a turkey the size of a VW Bug. Whatever the case, I'm sure you have that story. Me? I like to hunt chicks. That is my pastime, my recreation. Like each one of you, I, too, have a yarn about the one that got away.
Her name is Nicole. She went to a private school during her high school years, but everyone knew about her because of her beauty and extraordinary body. There were rumors that she was a clairvoyant in the bedroom - like some kind of sex witch. Because of this, most guys called her "Samantha". I never actually met anyone that had been with her. There were rumors of a guy that had been with her, Brandon Logan, and after she discarded him he became so obsessed with her that he stayed in his room masturbating to the thought of her, ripped his pubic hair out with duct tape and lived off Mountain Dew and peanut butter. Eventually, his parents checked him into an eating disorder clinic and he was never heard from again, or so said the rumor. Just when I got up the nerve to ask her out, her parents divorced, she moved to Virginia with her mom and she was gone from my life.
Tuesday, March 11 - I was in KB Toys doing some shopping and I ran into Nicole. She was with her son and as luck would have it, she remembered me and started a conversation. Man, she still looks like a Victoria’s Secret model and I could not take my eyes off of her tits. She was wearing a really tight t-shirt and I guess she lost her bra somewhere because she wasn’t wearing it at the time. I bought her son a cheesecake brownie from Great American Cookie and Nicole and I sat in the food court talking about our lives. Turns out, Nicole got a divorce a couple of years ago and moved back to Alabama so her father could help her out. Her mom passed away a few years ago and she didn’t have any family after her divorce. She is a massage therapist at a local spa and teaches a Taebo class at a gym in the area. We talked until her son grew bored with sitting there and quickly became a pain in the ass. Nicole gave me directions to her house and told me to come over on Thursday.
Thursday, March 13 – Nicole and I had a nice meal and continued the conversation we started in the mall. Her son, Gordon, who, btw, is 10, really took a liking to me. I whipped his ass in every video game he owns and then I destroyed him in some living room football. He told me about his trampoline and how he can do a front flip. Big deal I thought and then I two-upped him when I told him I could do a one-and-a-half front flip and a back flip on a trampoline. He begged me to go out and show him, but Nicole informed him it was his bed time and that maybe we could do that tomorrow. After Nicole put Gordon to bed the talking Nicole and I were doing turned into kissing and soon enough we were in her bedroom doing a lot of heavy petting. Her tits are what John Keats was talking about in his poem “A Thing Of Beauty”. They are perfect in size - about the size of Demi Moore’s in “Striptease” - and feel. While her ass looked great in a pair of pants, it looked even better in a thong. She has a “JJ” ass. You know the type of ass that makes JJ scream Dy-no-mite! Just as I was about to put a finger into pumpkin blossom, she broke from our kiss and said she would be right back.
She went into the bathroom and started the shower. I thought she was in there taking a shower, but soon she was back in the bed with me and the shower was still running. I didn’t know what she was doing, but by this time I didn’t care. A few minutes later, she got up, took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. Cool. We are going to shower together I thought. I was wrong. The bathroom was steamy; almost like a steam room. Her shower is separate from her bathtub and after she got naked, she stepped into the empty tub, bent over and told me she “needed it”. I climbed in, got behind her and started railing on her. My Dirk Diggler style hammering coupled with the steam from the shower had us sweating like Jeremiah Wright at a Klan rally. It felt like we were two Howler Monkey’s going at it in some far off rain forest. Not just from the sweat, but also from the howling that Nicole was doing. I was in a zone; like Michael Jordan was when he lit up the Trail Blazers or David Copperfield when he walked through the Great Wall of China. Every move I made was perfection, and Nicole let me know it with her moans and slut talk. I pumped her for what seemed like hours. Once we had drained each other, we jumped in the shower and cleaned up. I ended up going home around 2 in the morning.
Friday, March 14 - I went over to Nicole’s house early to show Gordon just how talented I was on his trampoline. Now, please keep in mind that I have not been on a trampoline in years. If I had to guess I would say at least 16 years, but when I was in my prime, I was the Raymond Babbit of Sun Valley (my parent’s neighborhood) when it came to the trampoline. I could do front flips, back flips, pretty much any kind of flip there was, but, again, that was at least 16 years ago.
Over the years, trampolines have changed quite a bit. I remember my trampoline as being large. It was so big that we used to play Royal Rumble on it. It was nothing for us to land on the metal frame and bloody our nose or crack our head open. I remember when Skitch Bryant knocked half of his front tooth out during a heated game of “Smear the Queer”. Gordon’s trampoline is small. It has padding covering the springs and as if that wasn’t enough, he has one of those big safety screens around it to keep him from falling off. I informed him that he was jumping on a girl’s trampoline and that I didn’t think I could show him all my tricks on such a girly piece of equipment. In reality, I was nervous over the fact that I had built myself up and didn’t know if I could follow through.
Of course, being the man that I am, I manned up and climbed on. Do the front flip Gordon shouted. I did and nailed it. My confidence grew. Do it again! he demanded, and again I nailed it. It was as if I had never left the trampoline. Do the back flip Gordon shouted. This one took a minute, but I finally nailed it. I was 13 again and loving it. Pretty soon a small crowd of neighborhood kids started to gather around the trampoline to watch my Bart Conner like display and then I heard it – He can even do a one-and-a-half! Gordon said to some of the watchers. No one can do the one-and-a-half said one little kid who looked a lot like Sunshine Sammy. Yes he can said Gordon. Stump, do the one-and-a-half.
Maybe it was over-confidence. Maybe it was the three beers and two margaritas I drank before starting. Maybe it was because I wanted to impress Nicole who was watching from her back deck. I don’t know what exactly it was, but something inside me told me I could do it…………..
I remember feeling out of control in mid-flip. I knew something was wrong. The voice in my head screamed for me to cover my face. The last thing I can remember is crashing through the protective netting that surrounds the trampoline. I don’t remember my ribcage landing on the metal frame. I don’t remember my feet touching the back of my head just before I fell onto the ground. The only thing I do remember is coming to, tasting blood in the back of my throat and feeling a blinding pain in my side. Several kids were asking me if I was alright. I couldn’t talk. The only thing I could do was fight for air. I knew I was dying, and, to be honest, I looked forward to death because then I wouldn’t feel all the pain that was racing through my body. I closed my eyes and said my goodbyes.
The next time I came to I was an ambulance. The EMS worker was telling me I was going to be alright. I could no longer feel the pain; I was going to live.
Saturday, March 15 – I woke up in a hospital room. My mother was there. Nicole was there. They told me I broke 5 ribs, punctured my right lung, broke my collar bone, dislocated my right shoulder and fractured my right eye socket.
They released me on Sunday. I have been on a lot of pain medication and, as of yesterday, I have lost 19 pounds, but I am alive. To kill time, I have been watching basketball, lots of movies, and listening to Tom Petty. Nicole has come over once since I have been home. A friend of mine said he saw her at The Fish Market with some guy. I'm sure she is screwing him and it looks as though she has gotten away.....again
Her name is Nicole. She went to a private school during her high school years, but everyone knew about her because of her beauty and extraordinary body. There were rumors that she was a clairvoyant in the bedroom - like some kind of sex witch. Because of this, most guys called her "Samantha". I never actually met anyone that had been with her. There were rumors of a guy that had been with her, Brandon Logan, and after she discarded him he became so obsessed with her that he stayed in his room masturbating to the thought of her, ripped his pubic hair out with duct tape and lived off Mountain Dew and peanut butter. Eventually, his parents checked him into an eating disorder clinic and he was never heard from again, or so said the rumor. Just when I got up the nerve to ask her out, her parents divorced, she moved to Virginia with her mom and she was gone from my life.
Tuesday, March 11 - I was in KB Toys doing some shopping and I ran into Nicole. She was with her son and as luck would have it, she remembered me and started a conversation. Man, she still looks like a Victoria’s Secret model and I could not take my eyes off of her tits. She was wearing a really tight t-shirt and I guess she lost her bra somewhere because she wasn’t wearing it at the time. I bought her son a cheesecake brownie from Great American Cookie and Nicole and I sat in the food court talking about our lives. Turns out, Nicole got a divorce a couple of years ago and moved back to Alabama so her father could help her out. Her mom passed away a few years ago and she didn’t have any family after her divorce. She is a massage therapist at a local spa and teaches a Taebo class at a gym in the area. We talked until her son grew bored with sitting there and quickly became a pain in the ass. Nicole gave me directions to her house and told me to come over on Thursday.
Thursday, March 13 – Nicole and I had a nice meal and continued the conversation we started in the mall. Her son, Gordon, who, btw, is 10, really took a liking to me. I whipped his ass in every video game he owns and then I destroyed him in some living room football. He told me about his trampoline and how he can do a front flip. Big deal I thought and then I two-upped him when I told him I could do a one-and-a-half front flip and a back flip on a trampoline. He begged me to go out and show him, but Nicole informed him it was his bed time and that maybe we could do that tomorrow. After Nicole put Gordon to bed the talking Nicole and I were doing turned into kissing and soon enough we were in her bedroom doing a lot of heavy petting. Her tits are what John Keats was talking about in his poem “A Thing Of Beauty”. They are perfect in size - about the size of Demi Moore’s in “Striptease” - and feel. While her ass looked great in a pair of pants, it looked even better in a thong. She has a “JJ” ass. You know the type of ass that makes JJ scream Dy-no-mite! Just as I was about to put a finger into pumpkin blossom, she broke from our kiss and said she would be right back.
She went into the bathroom and started the shower. I thought she was in there taking a shower, but soon she was back in the bed with me and the shower was still running. I didn’t know what she was doing, but by this time I didn’t care. A few minutes later, she got up, took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. Cool. We are going to shower together I thought. I was wrong. The bathroom was steamy; almost like a steam room. Her shower is separate from her bathtub and after she got naked, she stepped into the empty tub, bent over and told me she “needed it”. I climbed in, got behind her and started railing on her. My Dirk Diggler style hammering coupled with the steam from the shower had us sweating like Jeremiah Wright at a Klan rally. It felt like we were two Howler Monkey’s going at it in some far off rain forest. Not just from the sweat, but also from the howling that Nicole was doing. I was in a zone; like Michael Jordan was when he lit up the Trail Blazers or David Copperfield when he walked through the Great Wall of China. Every move I made was perfection, and Nicole let me know it with her moans and slut talk. I pumped her for what seemed like hours. Once we had drained each other, we jumped in the shower and cleaned up. I ended up going home around 2 in the morning.
Friday, March 14 - I went over to Nicole’s house early to show Gordon just how talented I was on his trampoline. Now, please keep in mind that I have not been on a trampoline in years. If I had to guess I would say at least 16 years, but when I was in my prime, I was the Raymond Babbit of Sun Valley (my parent’s neighborhood) when it came to the trampoline. I could do front flips, back flips, pretty much any kind of flip there was, but, again, that was at least 16 years ago.
Over the years, trampolines have changed quite a bit. I remember my trampoline as being large. It was so big that we used to play Royal Rumble on it. It was nothing for us to land on the metal frame and bloody our nose or crack our head open. I remember when Skitch Bryant knocked half of his front tooth out during a heated game of “Smear the Queer”. Gordon’s trampoline is small. It has padding covering the springs and as if that wasn’t enough, he has one of those big safety screens around it to keep him from falling off. I informed him that he was jumping on a girl’s trampoline and that I didn’t think I could show him all my tricks on such a girly piece of equipment. In reality, I was nervous over the fact that I had built myself up and didn’t know if I could follow through.
Of course, being the man that I am, I manned up and climbed on. Do the front flip Gordon shouted. I did and nailed it. My confidence grew. Do it again! he demanded, and again I nailed it. It was as if I had never left the trampoline. Do the back flip Gordon shouted. This one took a minute, but I finally nailed it. I was 13 again and loving it. Pretty soon a small crowd of neighborhood kids started to gather around the trampoline to watch my Bart Conner like display and then I heard it – He can even do a one-and-a-half! Gordon said to some of the watchers. No one can do the one-and-a-half said one little kid who looked a lot like Sunshine Sammy. Yes he can said Gordon. Stump, do the one-and-a-half.
Maybe it was over-confidence. Maybe it was the three beers and two margaritas I drank before starting. Maybe it was because I wanted to impress Nicole who was watching from her back deck. I don’t know what exactly it was, but something inside me told me I could do it…………..
I remember feeling out of control in mid-flip. I knew something was wrong. The voice in my head screamed for me to cover my face. The last thing I can remember is crashing through the protective netting that surrounds the trampoline. I don’t remember my ribcage landing on the metal frame. I don’t remember my feet touching the back of my head just before I fell onto the ground. The only thing I do remember is coming to, tasting blood in the back of my throat and feeling a blinding pain in my side. Several kids were asking me if I was alright. I couldn’t talk. The only thing I could do was fight for air. I knew I was dying, and, to be honest, I looked forward to death because then I wouldn’t feel all the pain that was racing through my body. I closed my eyes and said my goodbyes.
The next time I came to I was an ambulance. The EMS worker was telling me I was going to be alright. I could no longer feel the pain; I was going to live.
Saturday, March 15 – I woke up in a hospital room. My mother was there. Nicole was there. They told me I broke 5 ribs, punctured my right lung, broke my collar bone, dislocated my right shoulder and fractured my right eye socket.
They released me on Sunday. I have been on a lot of pain medication and, as of yesterday, I have lost 19 pounds, but I am alive. To kill time, I have been watching basketball, lots of movies, and listening to Tom Petty. Nicole has come over once since I have been home. A friend of mine said he saw her at The Fish Market with some guy. I'm sure she is screwing him and it looks as though she has gotten away.....again
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Confused
I was sitting around the house yesterday hanging out with Luke when I got a call from Melanie (a “friend” of mine). She informed me that her dishwasher was leaking and asked if I could come over and repair it. Please, before you start asking me how to repair appliances and whatnots around your house, understand that Tom Kraeutler I am not. I am just someone who gets lucky from time to time with some things around my house.
I informed Melanie that I could not help her due to Luke. That is when she offered her younger sister’s services. Her sister, Kayla, is very attractive and if she were not 17, I would have already tried to roger her. Honestly, if I knew no one would find out, I would have already tried, but seeing as how I don’t think I would do too well in prison, I have ignored my animalistic feelings toward her. To make matters worse, Melanie has informed me that Kayla thinks I am “hot” – damn that age thing. Kayla has babysat for me before, and while she is expensive ($25 an hour), Luke really seems to enjoy her and she is saving up her money to go on her senior class cruise. Seeing as how both of these women needed my services, I agreed to help.
Once they arrived at my home, of course there was the awkward eye contact with Kayla and Melanie didn’t help matters when she grabbed my cack and then kissed me (yes, she is a tramp).
When Melanie and I arrived at her house, I soon realized when she said her dishwasher was leaking, she really meant her moose lip was leaking and she needed me to plug it. Kayla has her faults, but due to her having an oversized clitoris (my theory); she has a very impressive sex drive. She has informed me that it’s nothing for her to rub one out 2 or 3 times a day. A couple of my friends have dated her and eventually broken up with her because they can’t keep up, or they find out she has been sluttin’ around on them. For the next few hours we tussled in her bed, on her kitchen table, and in her bath tub. By the way ladies, if any of you happen to have one of those jetted tubs in your home, it seems to really do the trick on the highest setting if you know what I mean.
Anyway, once we finished, we headed back over to my place. It was late, so Luke had already gone to bed and Kayla was watching ‘Flavor of Love’. We finished watching it and as they were getting ready to leave, Melanie started looking through Kayla’s purse (Kayla was in the bathroom) for some gum. It’s at this point where I got confused.
I’m fixing myself a Lean Pocket and am clueless as to what is going on around me. I hear Melanie say: “What is this, Kayla?” Kayla screams out: “Why are you going through my purse?” and then she starts crying and runs out of the house. I look around and Melanie is holding a pair of my underwear. She looks at me, throws my underwear down on the counter and dashes out the door. I don’t know if Kayla put a pair of my underwear in her purse; if Luke may have put them in there or Melanie did it as a joke, and I don’t want to ask because I imagine it will be a very uncomfortable conversation. To top it off, I didn’t even pay Kayla the $75 for the babysitting.
I informed Melanie that I could not help her due to Luke. That is when she offered her younger sister’s services. Her sister, Kayla, is very attractive and if she were not 17, I would have already tried to roger her. Honestly, if I knew no one would find out, I would have already tried, but seeing as how I don’t think I would do too well in prison, I have ignored my animalistic feelings toward her. To make matters worse, Melanie has informed me that Kayla thinks I am “hot” – damn that age thing. Kayla has babysat for me before, and while she is expensive ($25 an hour), Luke really seems to enjoy her and she is saving up her money to go on her senior class cruise. Seeing as how both of these women needed my services, I agreed to help.
Once they arrived at my home, of course there was the awkward eye contact with Kayla and Melanie didn’t help matters when she grabbed my cack and then kissed me (yes, she is a tramp).
When Melanie and I arrived at her house, I soon realized when she said her dishwasher was leaking, she really meant her moose lip was leaking and she needed me to plug it. Kayla has her faults, but due to her having an oversized clitoris (my theory); she has a very impressive sex drive. She has informed me that it’s nothing for her to rub one out 2 or 3 times a day. A couple of my friends have dated her and eventually broken up with her because they can’t keep up, or they find out she has been sluttin’ around on them. For the next few hours we tussled in her bed, on her kitchen table, and in her bath tub. By the way ladies, if any of you happen to have one of those jetted tubs in your home, it seems to really do the trick on the highest setting if you know what I mean.
Anyway, once we finished, we headed back over to my place. It was late, so Luke had already gone to bed and Kayla was watching ‘Flavor of Love’. We finished watching it and as they were getting ready to leave, Melanie started looking through Kayla’s purse (Kayla was in the bathroom) for some gum. It’s at this point where I got confused.
I’m fixing myself a Lean Pocket and am clueless as to what is going on around me. I hear Melanie say: “What is this, Kayla?” Kayla screams out: “Why are you going through my purse?” and then she starts crying and runs out of the house. I look around and Melanie is holding a pair of my underwear. She looks at me, throws my underwear down on the counter and dashes out the door. I don’t know if Kayla put a pair of my underwear in her purse; if Luke may have put them in there or Melanie did it as a joke, and I don’t want to ask because I imagine it will be a very uncomfortable conversation. To top it off, I didn’t even pay Kayla the $75 for the babysitting.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Friday
What a great Friday I had
Thursday on my way into Winn Dixie, a great piece of ass caught my eye. I was behind her so I just watched her rump dance around like Britney Spears after a few Bull Blasters. This woman’s butt was perfection in blue jeans. As we were grabbing our carts she turned around to me and I got a look at her face; she was old and that shocked me. Her face was quite wrinkled, but you could tell at one time she was very attractive. She has the age wrinkles around her mouth, eyes and on her forehead. At the time, I guessed she was probably in her early 50’s, but if you were to just see her from the neck down, you would guess she was in her mid 20’s and she had a set of lung warts that most 19 year olds would kill for. No doubt she has purchased a new BMW for some plastic surgeon.
Anyway, she pulled a buggy out for me and I started my shopping. Two aisles later I met her coming up the spice aisle and there was this fat lady taking up ¾ of the aisle, so “Glenda” and I had to play “You wanna dance?” to get by the chunker that was taking up most of the aisle. At that point there was a bit of flirting that went on; nothing major, just a few awkward giggles and some eye contact. I grabbed a box of turtle brownies and kept moving.
The next run-in took place in the bread aisle. We walked past each other, more eye contact and more smiles. I decided to do the “Crap! I forgot something” turnaround so I could watch that lovely derriere of hers. Glenda stopped at the hot dogs buns, bent over to get some bread and revealed her hot pink thong to me. At this point I decided to run The Method on her, and, as is the case about 85% of the time, it worked on Glenda. I finished my shopping and hit the road.
Friday, I called Glenda and we set up a meeting for Friday night. We met at the Oxford Baymont Inn, room 209. Most here are familiar with the stories of my sexual prowess, but on this night, and I’m not bragging when I say this, I was on another level. I don’t know if it was due to her wrinkled face or the fact that she liked to talk a lot, but whatever it was, it made me a machine and I plugged her non-stop for a solid 45 minutes. To Glenda’s credit, she never quit and put forth the effort of a true champion. I could have made her do anything I wanted, and for the most part, I did. To save myself a suspension, I won’t go into great detail as to what she did, but it was things you would see in 1970’s porno films.
After I finished her off, I got dressed, said my goodbyes and left her recovering on the bed. It was around 9:30 and I had not eaten anything, so I decided to go to Applebee’s and get a bite to eat. I guess about halfway through my meal I started noticing this group of people sitting across from me. One guy in particular looked very familiar, so I sat there eating my riblets trying to figure out how I knew the guy and then it hit me; he’s Ivan Drago. It’s not often that one gets to meet a movie star, so I decided to introduce myself.
About an hour later I was still sitting at the table having a discussion with Dolph Lundren. Apparently, he is making a sequel to the movie “Stone Cold”. He is going to direct and star in the movie. Omar, one of the guys sitting at the table with us, asked if I would like to come back to their hotel and hang out for a little while. It seems that they liked my accent and wanted to get me on tape so Dolph could “study a true Southern accent”. For the next 3 hours we drank beer, watched a couple of the girls that were with them make out for cash and shot off some fireworks in the parking lot. By the way, if you happened to be staying at the Holiday Inn there in Oxford Friday night, sorry about all the noise.
So, when Stone Cold II drops directly to DVD and you watch it, just know that his character is based off me.
What a great Friday it was
Thursday on my way into Winn Dixie, a great piece of ass caught my eye. I was behind her so I just watched her rump dance around like Britney Spears after a few Bull Blasters. This woman’s butt was perfection in blue jeans. As we were grabbing our carts she turned around to me and I got a look at her face; she was old and that shocked me. Her face was quite wrinkled, but you could tell at one time she was very attractive. She has the age wrinkles around her mouth, eyes and on her forehead. At the time, I guessed she was probably in her early 50’s, but if you were to just see her from the neck down, you would guess she was in her mid 20’s and she had a set of lung warts that most 19 year olds would kill for. No doubt she has purchased a new BMW for some plastic surgeon.
Anyway, she pulled a buggy out for me and I started my shopping. Two aisles later I met her coming up the spice aisle and there was this fat lady taking up ¾ of the aisle, so “Glenda” and I had to play “You wanna dance?” to get by the chunker that was taking up most of the aisle. At that point there was a bit of flirting that went on; nothing major, just a few awkward giggles and some eye contact. I grabbed a box of turtle brownies and kept moving.
The next run-in took place in the bread aisle. We walked past each other, more eye contact and more smiles. I decided to do the “Crap! I forgot something” turnaround so I could watch that lovely derriere of hers. Glenda stopped at the hot dogs buns, bent over to get some bread and revealed her hot pink thong to me. At this point I decided to run The Method on her, and, as is the case about 85% of the time, it worked on Glenda. I finished my shopping and hit the road.
Friday, I called Glenda and we set up a meeting for Friday night. We met at the Oxford Baymont Inn, room 209. Most here are familiar with the stories of my sexual prowess, but on this night, and I’m not bragging when I say this, I was on another level. I don’t know if it was due to her wrinkled face or the fact that she liked to talk a lot, but whatever it was, it made me a machine and I plugged her non-stop for a solid 45 minutes. To Glenda’s credit, she never quit and put forth the effort of a true champion. I could have made her do anything I wanted, and for the most part, I did. To save myself a suspension, I won’t go into great detail as to what she did, but it was things you would see in 1970’s porno films.
After I finished her off, I got dressed, said my goodbyes and left her recovering on the bed. It was around 9:30 and I had not eaten anything, so I decided to go to Applebee’s and get a bite to eat. I guess about halfway through my meal I started noticing this group of people sitting across from me. One guy in particular looked very familiar, so I sat there eating my riblets trying to figure out how I knew the guy and then it hit me; he’s Ivan Drago. It’s not often that one gets to meet a movie star, so I decided to introduce myself.
About an hour later I was still sitting at the table having a discussion with Dolph Lundren. Apparently, he is making a sequel to the movie “Stone Cold”. He is going to direct and star in the movie. Omar, one of the guys sitting at the table with us, asked if I would like to come back to their hotel and hang out for a little while. It seems that they liked my accent and wanted to get me on tape so Dolph could “study a true Southern accent”. For the next 3 hours we drank beer, watched a couple of the girls that were with them make out for cash and shot off some fireworks in the parking lot. By the way, if you happened to be staying at the Holiday Inn there in Oxford Friday night, sorry about all the noise.
So, when Stone Cold II drops directly to DVD and you watch it, just know that his character is based off me.
What a great Friday it was
Monday, January 28, 2008
Buttered Ear
I was over at Deanna's this weekend hanging out and really pissed her off.
Let me explain our relationship: We are not "together" in the sense that we are planning on getting married one day. Basically, I am just drilling her and I enjoy hanging out with her because she is very funny. We are always playing jokes on one another.
For example, she has pulled the shaving cream in the hand while you sleep trick on me, she filled my mailbox with ping pong balls and she tried to rub deodorant under my nose while I was sleeping and ask me questions. She claimed the deodorant acted as sort of a truth serum but it only woke me up and I smelled Teen Spirit "Cool Coconut" for the next day. I have Saran Wrapped her toilet and shaved about a 1/4 of her cat's hair off. You know just childish pranks that we both seemed to enjoy.
So this weekend when I pulled the prank that pissed her off, I didn’t think twice about it. We were in her bed and I was warming up the dinner by strumming on her oversized bliss button. From time to time I would dip into her honey hole and get a little panty butter on my finger(s). I had her worked up pretty good so there was an overflow of nectar and that is when the thought hit me.
Some call it the Wet Wanda. Others may call it the Saucy Susan. I prefer to call it the Buttered Ear.
The Buttered Ear is simple:
While pleasing a female with your finger(s), you lube said finger(s) up real good and then stuff them into the female’s ear - The Buttered Ear.
So while I was pleasing Deanna with my fingers, the Buttered Ear idea popped into my head. I thought we would get a good laugh out of it and then I would destroy that little fire hole of hers; I was wrong.
Right after I stuck my fingers in her ear, she elbowed me in the nose and then cussed me out. I didn’t get all that she said, but the gist of it was that I had "ruined the mood" and that I needed to get the hell out of there. As I was getting dressed she pulled out Paul Bunyan (her pleasure toy) and said; "While you're driving home, I'll be here getting off with this". I probably could have stayed and watched her knock the bark off that log but I was pretty angry so I left but not before I threw her phone in the toilet and backed over her mail box
Let me explain our relationship: We are not "together" in the sense that we are planning on getting married one day. Basically, I am just drilling her and I enjoy hanging out with her because she is very funny. We are always playing jokes on one another.
For example, she has pulled the shaving cream in the hand while you sleep trick on me, she filled my mailbox with ping pong balls and she tried to rub deodorant under my nose while I was sleeping and ask me questions. She claimed the deodorant acted as sort of a truth serum but it only woke me up and I smelled Teen Spirit "Cool Coconut" for the next day. I have Saran Wrapped her toilet and shaved about a 1/4 of her cat's hair off. You know just childish pranks that we both seemed to enjoy.
So this weekend when I pulled the prank that pissed her off, I didn’t think twice about it. We were in her bed and I was warming up the dinner by strumming on her oversized bliss button. From time to time I would dip into her honey hole and get a little panty butter on my finger(s). I had her worked up pretty good so there was an overflow of nectar and that is when the thought hit me.
Some call it the Wet Wanda. Others may call it the Saucy Susan. I prefer to call it the Buttered Ear.
The Buttered Ear is simple:
While pleasing a female with your finger(s), you lube said finger(s) up real good and then stuff them into the female’s ear - The Buttered Ear.
So while I was pleasing Deanna with my fingers, the Buttered Ear idea popped into my head. I thought we would get a good laugh out of it and then I would destroy that little fire hole of hers; I was wrong.
Right after I stuck my fingers in her ear, she elbowed me in the nose and then cussed me out. I didn’t get all that she said, but the gist of it was that I had "ruined the mood" and that I needed to get the hell out of there. As I was getting dressed she pulled out Paul Bunyan (her pleasure toy) and said; "While you're driving home, I'll be here getting off with this". I probably could have stayed and watched her knock the bark off that log but I was pretty angry so I left but not before I threw her phone in the toilet and backed over her mail box
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Deanna the witch
Well, I have started a relationship with a witch. It's not a boyfriend/girlfriend type thing, but more of a physical relationship. I have known her for a little while and we took it to the next level during a party on New Years.
I find her interesting because she is not the image of a witch that I have in my mind. I always thought witches were the goth looking chicks with the jet black hair, facial rings and that heroin gaze, but Deanna looks nothing like that.
She is ok looking. She does have a couple of tattoo's, one of which is directly between her lung warts and one on her arm. The thing I find most appealing is her attitude. She is one of those girls that just doesnt care what people think of her and she is highly intelligent.
The first time I messed around with her I didnt remember much because I had been drinking Jagermeister. After that night we talked on the phone some and she invited me over to her house for dinner.
When I got there she was making some type of squash soup. She is a vegetarian, so there was no meat to go along with this putrid looking soup. She did serve it with a loaf of cranberry pumpernickel bread and a glass of red wine which seemed to somewhat mask the taste of the soup. During the meal we talked a lot of witchcraft.
She said for as long as she could remember she had been interested in witchcraft, but then she watched the movie "The Crucible" and it convinced her that she was not only a witch, but that she was also the reincarnated spirit of "Martha Cory". Apparently, this is one of the women who was accused of being a witch during the Salem Witch Trials. Also, she was hanged because of those allegations. Deanna's proof is not only her "witch sense" but she also has had several conversations with Martha, and Deanna's middle name is Martha. How can anyone say she isn’t Martha? An interesting side note here is that Deanna claims to be "e-mail buddies" with Winona Ryder and that Winona is also a witch. She even showed me one of the e-mails.
I must have been acting like I didn’t believe her because she then asked me if I wanted her to prove that she can speak with Martha anytime she wants. I told her that was alright because I believed her; in reality she was really scaring the hell out of me and I didn’t want the whole witchcraft thing to escalate any further than it already had, but Deanna became hell-bent on proving her powers to me.
Now, I'm thinking that she is going to start dancing around and stuff, kind of like an Indian, but I was wrong. She went into her room and retrieved a small wooden box. The box, she claims, came from Salem and she bought it on E-bay for $345. Anyway, she pulls out these stamps, or something I thought were stamps and proceeds to place one under her tongue. After doing this she removed her clothes (shirt and pants) and sprayed some type of perfume on herself that, to me, smelled an awful lot like cat urine. She then sat down in a chair with her eyes closed and hummed a song. There were no candles; no darkness, nothing like that. It was just her sitting there in her bra and panties humming a song.
After about 10 minutes of humming she says: Hi, Martha. How are you? If you're thinking this can't get any weirder, you're wrong. Deanna then changed into Martha, complete with English accent, and answered herself: I'm well. I've just been in the back patching some garments.
For about the next 15 minutes I sat there and watched this insane spectacle. "They" talked about quilt making, selling stuff on craigslist and some guy named "Dobber". I have to say it was nothing but total entertainment.
Once Martha left, Deanna and I had a conversation about how she isn’t much of a "spell witch", though she can conjure spells when need be, but rather, she is a witch that can materialize and dematerialize at will, read and influence the thoughts of humans (she said through witchcraft she was able to convince her boss to give her a raise), look into the thoughts of animals (such as a penguin in Antarctica), and, of course, speak to the dead. By the by, the LSD serves to unlock her supernatural powers.
She convinced me of her powers, or, at least she convinced me of her mind reading powers because she read mine. I wanted to pound her. Not only that, but I wanted her to spit wash my gag mallet, and she even knew that I wanted her to tea bag me! Don't tell me she can't read minds.
She took me back to her room and proceeded to take me on a journey of fornication most can only dream about. She was gymnast flexible and she had complete control of her vaginal muscles. It really felt like she had vise in her cock garage and at one point I actually feared that she might squeeze my gut buster completely off.
Probably the coolest thing was when I was thumping her from behind and she had me pour hot candle wax over her balloon knot and then use a small vibrator on it while I continued drilling her. She is a total freak and I am not finished with her.
I find her interesting because she is not the image of a witch that I have in my mind. I always thought witches were the goth looking chicks with the jet black hair, facial rings and that heroin gaze, but Deanna looks nothing like that.
She is ok looking. She does have a couple of tattoo's, one of which is directly between her lung warts and one on her arm. The thing I find most appealing is her attitude. She is one of those girls that just doesnt care what people think of her and she is highly intelligent.
The first time I messed around with her I didnt remember much because I had been drinking Jagermeister. After that night we talked on the phone some and she invited me over to her house for dinner.
When I got there she was making some type of squash soup. She is a vegetarian, so there was no meat to go along with this putrid looking soup. She did serve it with a loaf of cranberry pumpernickel bread and a glass of red wine which seemed to somewhat mask the taste of the soup. During the meal we talked a lot of witchcraft.
She said for as long as she could remember she had been interested in witchcraft, but then she watched the movie "The Crucible" and it convinced her that she was not only a witch, but that she was also the reincarnated spirit of "Martha Cory". Apparently, this is one of the women who was accused of being a witch during the Salem Witch Trials. Also, she was hanged because of those allegations. Deanna's proof is not only her "witch sense" but she also has had several conversations with Martha, and Deanna's middle name is Martha. How can anyone say she isn’t Martha? An interesting side note here is that Deanna claims to be "e-mail buddies" with Winona Ryder and that Winona is also a witch. She even showed me one of the e-mails.
I must have been acting like I didn’t believe her because she then asked me if I wanted her to prove that she can speak with Martha anytime she wants. I told her that was alright because I believed her; in reality she was really scaring the hell out of me and I didn’t want the whole witchcraft thing to escalate any further than it already had, but Deanna became hell-bent on proving her powers to me.
Now, I'm thinking that she is going to start dancing around and stuff, kind of like an Indian, but I was wrong. She went into her room and retrieved a small wooden box. The box, she claims, came from Salem and she bought it on E-bay for $345. Anyway, she pulls out these stamps, or something I thought were stamps and proceeds to place one under her tongue. After doing this she removed her clothes (shirt and pants) and sprayed some type of perfume on herself that, to me, smelled an awful lot like cat urine. She then sat down in a chair with her eyes closed and hummed a song. There were no candles; no darkness, nothing like that. It was just her sitting there in her bra and panties humming a song.
After about 10 minutes of humming she says: Hi, Martha. How are you? If you're thinking this can't get any weirder, you're wrong. Deanna then changed into Martha, complete with English accent, and answered herself: I'm well. I've just been in the back patching some garments.
For about the next 15 minutes I sat there and watched this insane spectacle. "They" talked about quilt making, selling stuff on craigslist and some guy named "Dobber". I have to say it was nothing but total entertainment.
Once Martha left, Deanna and I had a conversation about how she isn’t much of a "spell witch", though she can conjure spells when need be, but rather, she is a witch that can materialize and dematerialize at will, read and influence the thoughts of humans (she said through witchcraft she was able to convince her boss to give her a raise), look into the thoughts of animals (such as a penguin in Antarctica), and, of course, speak to the dead. By the by, the LSD serves to unlock her supernatural powers.
She convinced me of her powers, or, at least she convinced me of her mind reading powers because she read mine. I wanted to pound her. Not only that, but I wanted her to spit wash my gag mallet, and she even knew that I wanted her to tea bag me! Don't tell me she can't read minds.
She took me back to her room and proceeded to take me on a journey of fornication most can only dream about. She was gymnast flexible and she had complete control of her vaginal muscles. It really felt like she had vise in her cock garage and at one point I actually feared that she might squeeze my gut buster completely off.
Probably the coolest thing was when I was thumping her from behind and she had me pour hot candle wax over her balloon knot and then use a small vibrator on it while I continued drilling her. She is a total freak and I am not finished with her.
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