It's too hard to sleep around here with that woman in the other room. She's nice, a loving warm person, and great to be around (and I really admire her tits). Problem is that I'm not the only one who thinks so. Every red-blooded American male for miles around just lights up when they see her.
She's got something red blooded in her room right now, and it sounds like they're trying to drill through the floor, both of them. My room mate, and today's prime cut of beef.
Abba was so pleased when I told him I was moving in with another woman - he's been worried about me ever since I went to college - so the idea of his little muffin ever living with a man gave him hives. He was relieved when I told him about "miss Thang".
He thinks that two girls living together can't get into any trouble, seeing as we're too busy having tea and moddifying our pretty dresses.
Hah!
If he knew that the "Thang" was romping around with big muscle-bound meatballs in the room next door, and that I'm living with the sex goddess from hell, his skin wouldn't just erupt, but burst into steaming flames.
She could be a really bad influence on daddy's little cowgirl (yes, that's me - dad has 'issues'). He'd have conniptions.
That woman is just too ....... alive. Yes, that's what it is, """alive""".
Shit, I think the chair in her room just broke.
That's the fifth crash I've heard.
With all my heart, I want them to enjoy each other, and the energetic exploration of nooks and crannies that I can hear every detail of. I want them to have fun, especially because I like her, even though I am horribly envious of her chest.
I want both of them to come.
I just wish it were soon and in our days.
This is interminable.
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2 comments:
An audible exhibitionist, if not actually a visible one.
Sometimes she leaves her door open.
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