Thank you, Tonya. I'm just so pleased that my first collab merited a RR...of course, it's a thing that couldn't have happened without a healthy dose of a filthy dirty Mike. Literally and figuratively. Thank you also for whoring out "Losing It".
As to the RRR, I think only Bill can officially award that particular award. In the meantime, Bill, may I have two pints of Finn's River Farms pear cider (aka "Jen's Juice") with a chaser of two shots of whatever passes for bourbon here? Please and thank you.
None, most days, because work. One, some days. And on very rare occasion, two or three.
It's not that I'm lacking in rings (most 18k, some platinum, some 14k, one titanium), it's that they're really not practical when one is washing one's hands 40+ times in a shift.
Mike, you're the one who is brilliant and sexy. And good. So very damn good. Did I mention it was good? It was good. You're good.
Stop with the complimenting of the Canadian who has only managed to turn out 15 stories in 3 1/2 years on Lush--two of those stories, "Losing It" and "Blood Lust", being posted in the space of less than seven days.
I love being on top, but have the direct opposite problem of Methilda--my stupidly long legs (I'm just a bit above 6') get tangled up in sheets and bedding and whatnot. Plus hip and back pain from scrunching up to kiss him if he's significantly shorter than myself.
The grass is always greener...
*running into the bar* Okay...so, guess what? *hopping up and down* "Losing It" has been accorded an RR!! I can't believe it...no stories at all for all of 2017 and then I submit "Blood Lust" and Mike and I submit "Losing It" in the space of a week, and both come up with RR's!!
Okay. Wayyyyy too many exclamation points. Someone *cough*Mike*cough* should hurry up with a mug of Jen's Juice and a chaser or three of bourbon.
Ermmm....I rarely, if ever, do the "sexy chat" thing anymore, but I really can't recall ever caring about the size of the cock attached to the guy with whom I am having the conversation.
And as previously mentioned, it's not as if I pause during actual intercourse or foreplay or whatever and whip out my Stanley measuring tape. Not really my thing.
Holy dear G-d, I just looked at her location..."Jen's Bed".
The other Jen is engaged...fuck me running. I'm a dead woman.
I'm just going to keep quiet over here, given that Her Royal Spriteness could quite literally hop in her truck, drive twenty minutes, kneecap me and/or seriously vandalise my front yard and house, and be back home, all within the space of an hour.
And now that Hank has passed, I've not even got a cat for solace--just Norman and Lily, whom Cleo El Gato would have in line in approximately two seconds flat (granted, Norman and Lily never questioned Hank's absolute authority over the house, so Cleo would have that advantage).
Oh, and lovely panties, R.
The mum always fills out the birth certificate. This is how my middle son came to have two middle names...his father and I couldn't agree and so I went with both while his father was off doing something that was surely Extremely Important.
Pro tip, guys: Pay attention when your wife/baby mama/whatever is filling out the birth certificate.
An amazing cover of "Chariots de Feu" by 2Cellos. Chariots of Fire.
H.'s "Made In London" is snuggled up next to my "Blood Lust" on the Story Picks list. I mean, she's been on the list bunches of times this year, but this is my first story of 2017, and it's now extra special because it's cosied up next to hers on that list. For however long it lasts there....
Drinking another Crispin Pacific Pear. Have tomorrow off, so should be drinking more, but I'm just too tired.
H., read and voted (a five, of course) on your poem. Fuck me running, it is good.
I couldn't write a poem, erotic or otherwise, to save my life. Certainly not one that good. I'm just basking in the pleasure of having actually written an actual--if seriously twisted--love story, in "Blood Lust". Maybe one day I'll be able to write a love story love story, one of those fluffy things, with background and all that....but today is not that day.
Drinking an okay cider--Crispin Pacific Pear. Californian. Only the cider, because I'm just off shift, and on shift again tomorrow at 1000. I'd take a virtual "Jen's Juice" combo, though, Bill, if it's on offer.
Hope everything and everyone else is okay.
Bill, send Tawny to fetch some of my Finn's River Farms Blackcurrant Cider. The man refused to develop a taste for it here, is what I'm understanding, and he needs to do so. I know I brought in six bottles (750 mL each) of the blackcurrant and a similar number of the apple, so she should be able to come up with something.
Elysian IPA. Tolerable. If you are desperate. Which Mike was. And Happy 800th Page!!!
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