"Come back and see me when you have a problem"—words I always like to hear from my urologist.
So, to celebrate, I visited Jenny for one of her superlative rim jobs. Among other things.
{NA}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 11/17/2005 06:18:00 PM
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0 comments
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark blurred oval freefall from the ceiling:
Angel, naked too, hustles me off the massage table and as I stand,
bobbing, grabs a tissue from the nightstand, pounces:
"I am sorry I have to kill you!"
{300}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 11/16/2005 07:34:00 PM
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0 comments
Is she, or isn't she? The hotel Starbucks is full of conventioners; she sat at a single, cellphone placed on the tabletop, tabulating her bills? Her investments? Her 401K?
At 6:50, the cell chirped. At 6:57, she folded her papers neatly into her clutch, sauntered off toward the elevators.
Going past, she gives me a modest half-inch of gold silky midriff between red blouse and black pants: So dainty, so classy, so carefully calibrated not to tighten too much against the promise beneath:
The first of the night.
{NA}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 11/13/2005 01:33:00 PM
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0 comments
Lan's blowjobs were never that good though I didn't know that then—
Then, back in the day, when latex wasn't always a barrier.
Lan was loving and game but not skilled. Though she did let me come in her mouth, she didn't know to suck harder when I climaxed, or to shiver her tongue round my head while I still thrilled, abandoned:
Abandoned while she still had me, trapped in her mouth, between hollowed cheeks: When she could have done anything.
She never reached round to shove a finger up my ass.
Though she didn't swallow, I never asked her to open her mouth, so I could see my load laid along her tongue, dripping from the roof of her mouth, coating her tonsils and uvula:
She kept her lips primly pursed, got off the bed, and left for the bathroom to spit and rinse.
We never snowballed.
I didn't know, then, what to ask for.
{NA}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 11/13/2005 09:12:00 AM
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2 comments
