I can hear him cackling. I can see his eyes glinting out between licks of a Hellish flame as he mutters incantations of “Ingrown hair…stubble…inflammation…That will surely stop her from having too much fun.”
As I have mentioned in previous posts, I take my responsibility as BJ Queen rather seriously. If I don’t treat my royal subjects properly, I will find myself reigning over an unruly populace with a bad case of blue balls. Continue reading →
The bulb seemed like a less intimidating option. I didn’t like the looks of those full-on fucking irrigation systems: I can’t tell whether they belong in a hospital room or an industrial agriculture operation, but they certainly don’t belong up my tender, inexperienced little bum hole. Continue reading →
I pulled my old clunker up to a beautiful suburban condo overlooking the water.
“Welcome, welcome!” Rocket Man said cheerfully as he opened the heavy front door. “Come on in!”
Photographs of babies, pets, and vacation spots followed me up the staircase and into a crisp, rather mod living room. Placed tastefully around the room were what looked to the layman’s eye like Japanese art. In the center of the room stood a 7-foot-tall bamboo tripod structure, the top bound in rope and suspending a large metal ring. I had a feeling I knew who was going to be tied to that tripod. Continue reading →
My Convenient Cock (one of my two roommates) is back, and I’m doin’ a happy-dance over here!
Some OkCupid bitch (read: interesting, attractive, girlfriend-material young woman) was stealing his attention for a while, but it looks like she’s fallen off the map a bit, and Convenient Cock is no longer trying to will a relationship into existence by abstaining from our fuck sessions.Continue reading →
I got together with them over drinks and dinner a little while ago, and was blown away. First of all, their photo didn’t do them justice. Yes, they’re in their 40s no matter which way you swing it. But, shit, they’re aged like a fine ass wine. I was attracted. Box #1: checked.