Unfortunately there were too many fat kids on that beech, and I'm buggered. And now that the aphrodisiacs I spiked the Chinese with have kicked in, I can only watch on helplessly as Cooldaddy bangs Kiera like a Salvation Army drum.
Tab A into slot B indeed. Way to go, Old Boy!
Gold Coast metermaid.
Less whorin', more topping up my meter! I got a damn parking ticket last time I was at Surfers Paradise.
Fortunately Superdonkey finds the secret location and smashes through the wall, knocking the old boy out cold. Dropping a big bag of Chinese takeaway on the table, I snuggle up on the couch next to Kiera and hit play on the Supernatural. Dean is so cool!
Then we might text Ginger again and have a little afters...
In theory, who knows what might happen in the heat of the moment? But otherwise, no. If I was involved in a group situation, charging pipe would not be on my agenda.
Tossing a big handful of Cockney bait, I'm going to go with below.
Unfortunately Kiera misheard the judge, who actually said, "I want you two to get off together."
*quickly puts on a bailiff uniform and escorts you two away to carry out your sentence*
Absolutely! *clears throat* I mean, sure. That might be nice.
Tempting Cockneys is my business.
Another vote for smoking here. I just can't stand the smell of it.
Drug use too, although I relaxed my ban when my wife and I were in Amsterdam a couple of years ago. She was the nicest she'd been since we first met and she was trying to impress me. She's back to her old self now though. I might have to reconsider that one...
Sorry, Old Boy. Definitely not age before beauty this time.
We were going to have some Indian, but my wife forgot to turn off at the right spot. So I ended up with a footlong meatball from Subway instead.
The truth is, I'm hooked too. But with Kiera bouncing about the place, who could blame me?
I definitely have to spank the two beautiful bottoms above me.
I haven't done a collaboration yet, but I have to say, the idea intrigues me. Milik and Jane's effort was an absolute cracker
While the logistics baffle me a bit, I love the idea of blending that creativity and literary talent, finding the balance between styles. As Milik says, breaking through that block.
I've got a stubborn little thorn of an opening scene that I just can't do anything with, and it's far too good to let go. Maybe a collaboration is what it needs. Certainly a better mind than mine.
Spring rolls with chilli jam, some Singapore noodles with pork, and a fortune cookie that told me people would travel to hear me speak.
And then maybe a piece of American baked cheesecake that wasn't baked very well. I knew I should have had the caramel mud.
I'm re-working a couple of previously published stories that were no longer suitable for Lush.
The first was never posted here, but it's about a couple of friends who get stranded by a swollen river on their way to join their partners on a camping trip. Given the length, it'll probably be a two-parter, covering both the temptation and the aftermath. It's called Overflow.
The second is a revision of Good Girl into the spanking genre. I'm shuffling it around to make it fit for a guy and his girlfriend, with very mild BDSM themes. I'm renaming it Naughty Girl.
In the meantime...
I'm in favour of it. We're all people.
In the doing, I obviously prefer a white man. You know, given I'm white? I've bagged a couple of hot Latina women in my day...cha cha cha! And a Brit, a German and a Kiwi, but they don't really count as they are whiter than I am. I have lusted after a few Asian women too, but I couldn't get that sorted in the end.
In the watching, I generally prefer to see Caucasian women. I don't know whether that's because I'm more attracted, or just more familiar.
Regardless, it's the emotional and intellectual connection that interests me most. All cats are grey in the dark.
Once, almost.
If I get particularly worked up during a long session, my thoughts will get a little dirty, and sometimes I'll think about eating my cum. But usually the second I come, all that goes out the window, and I'm just interested in cleaning up.
Once when I was younger, I came into my hand, and in a rush of blood, I slurped it into my mouth. But I spat it straight back out again, almost in reflex. Something about the taste and texture wasn't quite right. The fantasy often doesn't live up to the reality, I guess.
God, I hope not. I've actually had the odd anxious moment worrying that someone in my real life will recognise me and discover my secret...and what I've been up to. I've even spent one meeting at work running the numbers in my head, rather than listening to the boss.
250,000 members around the world. How many of those in Australia? How many in my town? How many who might know me? I should be safe. Hang on a minute, why did she look at me like that? Does she know? Oh shit, she knows that story is about her! Stop blushing, you idiot! And so on...
My wife and best friend know I'm here, but as far as I know, neither of them are...I hope.
While I certainly wouldn't mind a chat with the old boy, I'd hate to tear him away from more...cheeky pursuits with the ladies.
Godspeed, old mate.
A tub of strawberry yoghurt. I'm not very hungry. I had a big curry for lunch.