Yesterday was one of those decadent days that I've been meaning to enjoy for 28 years now. It started out innocently enough: the alarm clock blared to life at 8 a.m., my arm shot forth, and a lazy hand went to smack the snooze button (just. nine. more. minutes.).
But another hand beat me to it. I had almost forgotten, in my sleepy haze, that Melissa had spent the night with me. We had both been so exhausted--me from two and a half hours of hapkido, and her from work and dealing with her dad--that we had just conked out almost as soon as our heads hit our respective pillows.
Nine minutes passed. The alarm came back to life. Again Melissa's hand beat me to the snooze button. This routine played out again and again until 9:30 a.m. I was late for work. And I didn't give a shit. After over a year and a half of scrambling to work, I simply let sleep win me over. And it felt divine.
By 11 a.m., I was pretty much resigned to the fact that I wasn't going into work. I was also resigned to the fact that I couldn't fall back asleep thanks to the raging morning wood forcing my blanket into hover mode. I was about to turn over to Mel to see if she could rectify the situation when, once again, she beat me to it, er, so to speak.
Normally, I'm the one who does all the between-the-thigh work. I dive into cunnilingus the way Navy Seals dive into a sabotage operation. I'm in my happy place when my tongue is visiting Bushville. It's become so commonplace for me to be there first thing in the morning when I'm with Mel, she refers to it as me "having breakfast."
Not so yesterday. Yesterday, Mel was on the job, er, again, so to speak. She was busily working her fellatio muscles, much to my delight. Hooky from work, AND a BJ. Can life get any better? All I needed was a frosty beer and the television tuned to a Discovery Channel special about the pyramids, and you could have ended my life then and there because it simply couldn't have gotten any better. Then Mel popped her head up and asked something that made me laugh out loud. Literally. Laugh. Out. fucking. Loud.
"Baby, what do you look for in a blow job?"
As I laughed, I envisioned thumbing through the Sears Catalog to the blow job section (located between the camping supply section and housewares). Let's see, I could choose the 2003 Knob-Job Deluxe edition (with patented saliva guard), or the Slurp-O-Matic 5000 produced by Head Bobbers, Inc. I shared all of this with Mel, and she started laughing right along with me.
"No, what I mean is what makes a good blow job for you?" she explained, even though I knew what she meant.
"Well, preferably, my penis would play an important role."
Laughter for 10 minutes. Followed by sex. Followed by an hour nap. Followed by an afternoon of swimming in her father's pool.
Hey, look, a random list of adult stars: Stephanie Swift. Kyla Cole. Teagan Presley. Autumn Austin. Courtney Simpson. Christina Model. Ginger Jolie.
Work? What's that? Oh, right, that place I'm at now.
Fine, I'll leave you with a long list of famous people so maybe I can boost Web traffic: Hilary Duff. Kiera Knightly. Amanda Bynes. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Britney Spears. Kelly Clarkson. Christina Aguilera. Emma Watson. Ashley Tisdale. Amber Tamblyn. Kirsten Dunst. Sanjaya. Jessica Sierra. Eva Mendes. Hilary Duff. Kiera Knightly. Amanda Bynes. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Britney Spears. Kelly Clarkson. Christina Aguilera. Emma Watson. Ashley Tisdale. Amber Tamblyn. Kirsten Dunst. Sanjaya. Jessica Sierra. Eva Mendes. Hilary Duff. Kiera Knightly. Amanda Bynes. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Britney Spears. Kelly Clarkson. Christina Aguilera. Emma Watson. Ashley Tisdale.
Posted by Ryan at June 25, 2003 08:05 AM
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