It doesn't matter how you play that joke. It always works.
Having experienced the exceptional slurping skills of Amy only a few days earlier, and being off work for the day, I sent Amy a message and asked her if she'd be able to book a full one-hour appointment today. She happily obliged and apologized for taking so long to get back to me. Apparently a Russian midget (who had mistaken her for a member of the royal family) had gotten a hold of her phone number and well... you know those midgets.
Oh. Little people. Sorry.
After some logistical "challenges" (that were not her fault) we finally ended up face to face. All I could do was make small talk and stare like a goof at those G-cups. (G stands for Gazongazilla I'm told.) They ain't fake either. I did a thorough inspection. I consider myself an expert in the detection and identification of Barbie-brand after-market parts. In some cases, I can even identify the installer. These were installed by God Himself, and they are... DIVINE.
So being the pious soul I am, I built an altar and worshiped them for quite some time. They enjoy being worshiped.
Then onto a tasty little breakfast sandwich. Tasty and fresh. Just like McDonalds, but with fewer calories and no pink goop. Thank the Lord on high.
I was already harder than Chinese calculus and she'd barely touched me. She gave me about a thirty-second highlight reel of the oral session from the night previous and I blurted "Screw it... put it on".
And then our wee Amy became acutely aware of the reason why MPA's have hated me for as long as this very board has existed. I am the slowest release in the 35-and-over bracket in the GTA.
So I took her for a spin.
She was very responsive. And I believe she climaxed once or twice.
We stopped for the fifth inning stretch (and oxygen break -- remember, I'm geriatric). Before I knew it she was on top of me again (my favourite) and after the motivation of a few well chosen dirty words, she was at a full gallop and I was on my way to the Winner's Circle.
Amy offered me a second-round. We still had some time left. But my phone was ringing and work was calling and reality was coming back faster than a boomerang with a headwind.
Beyond any description of what happened or what didn't happen, Amy has the kindest sweetest most genuine heart of any woman I've encountered in "the industry". Her boobs aren't all that are real. She's just a sweet, kind, smart (VERY smart) young woman.
Sometimes that's what you need.
And I'll be needing it a whole lot more.
Now if you'll excuse me, I just heard the blender stop. It's time for my Ensure suppository.
LoB out.
Having experienced the exceptional slurping skills of Amy only a few days earlier, and being off work for the day, I sent Amy a message and asked her if she'd be able to book a full one-hour appointment today. She happily obliged and apologized for taking so long to get back to me. Apparently a Russian midget (who had mistaken her for a member of the royal family) had gotten a hold of her phone number and well... you know those midgets.
Oh. Little people. Sorry.
After some logistical "challenges" (that were not her fault) we finally ended up face to face. All I could do was make small talk and stare like a goof at those G-cups. (G stands for Gazongazilla I'm told.) They ain't fake either. I did a thorough inspection. I consider myself an expert in the detection and identification of Barbie-brand after-market parts. In some cases, I can even identify the installer. These were installed by God Himself, and they are... DIVINE.
So being the pious soul I am, I built an altar and worshiped them for quite some time. They enjoy being worshiped.
Then onto a tasty little breakfast sandwich. Tasty and fresh. Just like McDonalds, but with fewer calories and no pink goop. Thank the Lord on high.
I was already harder than Chinese calculus and she'd barely touched me. She gave me about a thirty-second highlight reel of the oral session from the night previous and I blurted "Screw it... put it on".
And then our wee Amy became acutely aware of the reason why MPA's have hated me for as long as this very board has existed. I am the slowest release in the 35-and-over bracket in the GTA.
So I took her for a spin.
She was very responsive. And I believe she climaxed once or twice.We stopped for the fifth inning stretch (and oxygen break -- remember, I'm geriatric). Before I knew it she was on top of me again (my favourite) and after the motivation of a few well chosen dirty words, she was at a full gallop and I was on my way to the Winner's Circle.
Amy offered me a second-round. We still had some time left. But my phone was ringing and work was calling and reality was coming back faster than a boomerang with a headwind.
Beyond any description of what happened or what didn't happen, Amy has the kindest sweetest most genuine heart of any woman I've encountered in "the industry". Her boobs aren't all that are real. She's just a sweet, kind, smart (VERY smart) young woman.
Sometimes that's what you need.
And I'll be needing it a whole lot more.
Now if you'll excuse me, I just heard the blender stop. It's time for my Ensure suppository.
LoB out.
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