Wow. I…was…amazing. Did you see me? I was like the champagne of sex-having. I got all up in there. I built a house in there. I joined the PTA in there. That is my home. Your snatch is my home.
So, was it as good for me as it obviously was for you? I must have foreplayed on you for 10, maybe 12 minutes. I can see you’re still rolling your eyes in pleasure. You better watch out, there’s not a whole lot of room for you to orgasm around on this inflatable mattress. If you could maybe scoot over a little bit. You know what, why don’t you sit in that chair for a while? I kind of like to lounge around after the all the jang-a-langing. I’ll appreciate you from afar, like a work of art or a vase covered in my sweat and chest hair.
Getting dressed again so soon? And on the verge of tears? This must be one of your cute little ways of getting me to undress you again. I’ll get right on that. In a minute. So, you must be pretty experienced. Yeah, I can tell, ‘cause I’m really experienced. I’ve thrown a bone in literally three girls before, and with one of them I sort of did it twice. More like once and a half. But I’ve also done tremendous amounts of research through quasi-legal means. When it comes to poking, I consider myself a bit of a sensei, or perhaps a zaibatsu.
Why don’t you stick around for breakfast? We’ve got some onion dip and mustard in the fridge, and I think that pita bread is still okay. I think breakfast is, like, the sexiest meal of the day. Hey, you know what we could do to make it even sexier, is I could eat it off of you. Oh man, this’ll be great; quick, slather yourself with the dip. Nothing gets a woman hotter than being treated like a plate. No? All right, fine. But you’re missing out.
Well, you’ve probably got a lot of stuff to do. You have a job, right? Yeah, that must be something. I’m pretty busy myself; I’ve got appointments, I was going to throw a resume together, and there’s that Naruto fandub I’ve been putting off. If you were looking for your shoes, they’re over by the Wii. Hey! Be careful, don’t knock it over! I don’t remember you being that clumsy with my junk.
Look, I’m beginning to think this was a mistake, you’re clearly not the girl you said you were on Craigslist. You should probably just continue leaving. By the way, if you could try to keep those awkward Hulk-feet on the running and not my mom’s carpet, that would be aces.
And, hey. Call me?