Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Jenny's St Valentine's Day Mess-acre

Just a bit of seasonal fun. Except I don’t think I was laughing so hard at the time!

The flowers were dead, and the card misdelivered
The restaurant screwed up so we didn’t get dinner
When the bar asked for ID, I’d forgotten my purse
So why did he say things couldn’t get worse?

“Wanna go back to my place?”
I asked; he said yes
At least there was one thing
That couldn’t get messed
And we just couldn’t wait
Till we got up the stairs
I dropped to my knees
Sucked his cock then and there

He leaned on the wall
His hips gently grinding
I couldn’t believe
All the flavors I’m finding
Then I paused… shit! Goddamit!
He was so nearly there
But someone else in the building
Was coming downstairs

Victoria’s Secret sold him the wrong size
And 50 First Dates was scratched on both sides
He needed to pee, and his voice sounded terse
When he said surely things just couldn’t get worse?

We reached my apartment
I pushed him in quick
I had unfinished business
With a thick, spit-slicked prick
I rubbed his firm helmet
All over my face
Felt his sweet precum smearing
I came at the taste

I said “you’re delicious!
“My favorite supper”
Then my throat closed around him
And he slipped in like butter
But when he reached for my pussy
And I felt his tongue kneading
“Oh shit, man! I’m early!
“I’ve just started bleeding.”

We gave up! We cuddled. It was one of those days
When things just get worse whatever you say
I looked for some respite once we got into bed
But I just called him Johnny…
…when I know his name’s Fred

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