First Date
29.Oct.2007, 09:50 am
I hear my glossy iPhone make its old school ring, and I smile at the blocked number calling, and I answer: “What are you wearing, pool boy?”
“How excited are you about those toys you got in the mail?” asks The Boy.
I finger the blush-pink packaging from Booty Parlor, lying on my desk. “Not as excited as I was before I used them.”
“Already?” asks The Boy. “Did you light candles and have a glass of wine?”
“Of course,” I say. “But within five minutes I grabbed my tits. So then I slapped myself. I said, ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’
“Then I said, ‘That short little skirt, that upscale, escort make-up… You’ve been asking for this all night, baby.’ Then I saw the dildo, I conquered myself, and I came. Hard. Then half of me wanted to cuddle, but the other half said, ‘Yeah, right, hoe. Cuddling? What are we? 69 years-old?’ Then the other half started crying, and drinking all the left-over wine, singing All By Myself.”
“That’s some date you had with yourself.” The Boy chuckles.
“Yeah,” I say. “I think I’ll blog about it.”
“You’re writing about giving yourself a right-hand job on your blog?” asks The Boy. “Your poor parents.”
“Whatever.” I weigh the glass dildo in my hand: it’s heavy like an awards statue. “My pussy’s proud of me.”
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(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 1)
29.Oct.2007, 11:33 am
i think i need to share a proverbial cigarette with you after that
29.Oct.2007, 12:12 pm
Dude. I’mma have some wine next time I have a date with myself! Looks like The Boy has some competition….
29.Oct.2007, 01:15 pm
You dirty biatch!
I love you.
19.Nov.2007, 10:07 pm
geez, it was obviously as good for you as it was for me as I smoke my cuban monticristo #2… where is my port?
19.Nov.2007, 10:43 pm
Coming, sir.
XXXO,
K
17.Apr.2008, 12:25 pm
[...] Wearing. [...]