Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Friday, July 13, 2018
When I am inside you I adore running my fingers through the satiny pages of your flowing folds. Running my fingers along the event horizon where my shaft sleekly splits you wide and melds into making us as one. How your body pulses and vibrates when my finger tip presses my moment where your taint starts and my full immersion leads. As my finger trace back around gathering a glistening sheen unable stop until I have encircled my girth. Perfect placement for my thumb to find the very pinnacle of your tender tabernacle. There to give service and pay homage to that nubbin with an ever gentle rubbing. Your blue eyes become bluer. Your blond hair becomes blonder. Golden strands fall before your face and you sigh, then gasp the sweet sigh of release.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
I rolled into Slammies one weekday afternoon for a large draught of unreasonable expectations. There she was on the other side of the bar staring me right in the kisser. The only thing to do was to stick to the irrational exuberance script that has served me so well and soldier on.
A decade of Slammies separation meant the woman behind the bar did not recognize me as the regular I once was. Now was not the time to dissuade her. I ordered a pint. There was a CUBS hat on the bartenders head and Chicago CUBS Baseball was on the shiny new multitude of flat screen TV's that now littered the saloon. A far cry from the ancient flickering cathode ray tube corner mounted box that once served as the sports center of this one time corridor of a bar.
On the plus side I could not drink enough pints of unreasonable expectations to have them overtake me as I watched the energetic bartender reach for libations on the top shelve. Each reach exposing more of her well toned reasonably bared daytime mid-drift. Framed in what to me appeared goth inspired basic black attire. Modest but well fitting and well suited for the bars expanded and updated facade.
Her exposed belly bling sparkled and rewarded my irrationally exuberant countenance with a glint of rational promise. Then she rolled up with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack and said, " I drank too much yesterday and if you don't do a shot with me now I might die."
Her sincerity and my gentlemanly tendencies coaxed an extra exuberant, "Bottoms up!" from me. That was our cue for the ritual downing of the booze. Even fueled by Jack Daniels the unreasonable expectations jet stream would not drag me along today.
He who drinks, then runs away will live to drink another day. Ball game was over and the end of the work day crowd was shuffling in so I bid the bartender ado, tipped her and my hat and out the door I went.
That was the first, but lucky for me, not the last time I would have a JoJo sighting.
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Saturday, June 9, 2018
JoJo was the unlikely, as well as the very likely tail end of Tails from Slammies. First impressions are quite often highly skewed and incorrect except for when they are not. For the type of woman you would never peg for a geezer groupie, baby girl resplendent in daddy issues, or grandmother; this tight bodied, tatted up, ageless energetic goofball beauty was a force of nature.
Through the long unfolding of Tails of Slammies, spanning the three sisters of legend: Cathy, Janine, and Peggy, through the incidental drive-by Sindy, JoJo was apropos punctuation.
Friday, June 8, 2018
One minute I'm having a cold brew at Slammies.
Next thing I know I am in JoJo the bartenders bed.
She is stuffing the business end of a Cauliflower floret with an asparagus spear chaser up my rear.
I didn't know she was a vegan.
Just another early 21st century night.