you are hard at work, in the kitchen, doing something on the chopping board. i don’t care what it is, i’m feeling horny and come up behind you and hold you, my hands cupping your breasts, my stiffie pressing into your back. “not now!” you tell me sharply, “i’m busy!” i don’t give a fuck, and i push my right hand down between your legs.
“c’mon love,” i implore, “just a quickie?” you spin round and glare at me. i ignore you and pull at your skirt, wanting to feel between your legs. you brush my hand away roughly and tell me to
“fucking grow up!” i slip my hand up inside your tee, grabbing a breast and ask, in my sweetest voice, for “a quick hand-job?” this seems to excite you and you smile and i feel your nipples stiffen and i grin back at you. if i had paid more attention, i would have seen that what you were chopping was half a dozen or so hot red chilli peppers, the burning juices of which now coat your fingers.
“you want me to wank you off?” you ask cheekily, and i nod like a demented puppy and grin. “what, right this minute?” you check. a question that is met by more enthusiastic nodding. you look down and i obediently drop my pants. i love the way you smile as you grab hold of my twitching prick and start to stroke generously up and down its whole length. you trace delicate little circles around and all over the head with the tips of the fingers of your other hand, which feels fantastic, and even more tingly than usual. you fondle my balls and even push the tip of your pinkie into my butt, you know how i like that. the mischievous look in your eyes makes it so much better.
then the heat hits me and i gasp in pain and you giggle. you answer the desperate questioning in my eyes by glancing over your shoulder at the pile of red chilli peppers on the chopping board. my eyes follow yours, widening in realisation as they do. i try to pull away but you keep hold of me for a second or two and kiss me. then you let go and i hop from one foot to the other, letting out little agonised whimpers, unsure what to do, pain scorching me from the tip of my dick to my ass. you laugh so hard that you can barely cross the kitchen to the freezer and find me a bag of frozen peas.
you are still laughing as you wash your hands and go back to preparing the meal.
Drinking cups of tea,
We sat on my mate’s steps,
Watching the girls stroll by,
And smoking funny cigarettes.
I fell in love
“Point-five?” you ask.
“Yeah, I only saw her from behind.”
I like to watch him shave.
I like how he uses his clippers,
not a blade
and I like how much care he takes.
I like the faces he pulls
as he reaches every part of his chin,
the way he sticks his tongue into his lips and cheeks.
Don’t tell him,
but it turns me on.
I like that he cares.
I like that it matters to him.
I like how he knows his own face,
how he knows its contours.
I wish he’d wash his fucking feet sometimes though.
This was inspired by something I read on the wonderful Tales of a Charm City Chick.
Six things to avoid on a first date
(that have happened to me on a first date…all within the last six months)
- Falling asleep: for some reason this is not looked kindly upon. You might think you are just demonstrating how comfortable you feel in her prescence, but trust me, it doesn’t work. I once woke up to find my date had left! How rude is that?
- Proposing: again, this doesn’t seen to float a woman’s boat. I thought women liked romance. Wait until the second date would be my advice, not that I’ve ever actually had a second date.
- Crying uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: I thought that women liked to see a man’s sensitive side but I have failed to get my dick sucked on many occasion due to this.
- Laughing uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: this one is not always a disaster but try to make sure that you don’t point at her when you are laughing.
- Asking her if she has any hot sisters: not sure why this is often responded to with “Cheque please!” Asking her if she has any hot brothers seems to have a similar effect. The same rule can also be applied to mothers, daughters and grandmothers and particularly to pets and/or livestock.
- Telling her that you have been masturbating over her Farcebook profile pictures: I thought that was flattering but apparently not, not even if you provide proof by showing her the video of you doing it.
So there you have it guys. The foolproof guide to not getting your face slapped. Who knows, maybe one day one of us will get to go on that elusive second date.