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When last call finally came around Chaperón Jiménez was mindful to wait ten full Mississippis before slithering up to the underage skank at the bar. The evening'd been a misfire so far romance-wise but Chaperón still figured he had a shot at scaring up some sudden death beaver. Perching his lips by the skank's ear he spoke to her in his suavest, most sensual tones.
"What's your poison, beautiful?"
"Wha?" The girl turned toward him robotically, mouth slightly ajar.
"I said can I offer you a cocktail? I'll tell 'em to hold the tail f'you want."
At close range the small, asymmetrical eyes gave her face a imbecilic cast—but the way her tits reared up at him compensated in spades. Examining them closely, Chaperón envisioned spreading a coat of freshly spilt nut lacquer across them with a tiny squeegee rubber-banded to his testes. His cock began to seamonkey angrily.
"Omigod that's so sweet? Kin I have like a berry blast daiquiri?"
"You like having a blast eh? Doesn't surprise me somehow." Chaperón winked and made an "another round" gesture to the bartender as the bimbette fished a pack of 100s from her aquamarine mini-purse. "Say, y'know what a shrink'd say that purse of yours symbolizes, doncha sweetheart?"
"Omigod you are so rude? You think I'm like mental?" She lit up.
"No way, sugar—just suggesting maybe you're trying to tell me something...you know, subconsciously."
No ripple of comprehension muddied the still waters of her expression. Expertly concealing his exasperation, Chaperón slicked back his hair and slid a hand down his necktie suggestively. "Point is, gorgeous, they say a purse symbolizes a woman's sexuality."
"Like how embarrassing? I swear to God I got this at a sample sale?"
What was it with this chick? "Honey, all I'm saying's maybe you were sending me a message by unzipping it and opening it up wide like that." To drive home his meaning he burrowed his right middle finger into his left fist erotically and fucked her with his eyes as he spoke.
"You mean like a voice-mail? Omigod, I didn't bring my cell with, I am so sorry. I have to save up like my anytime minutes?" The look of apologetic concern on the stooge's face was heartbreaking.
"Forget it, baby, let's just—"
"So do we haveta talk more or kin I like blow you? You're like totally cute?"
Watching the tiny, testicle-driven squeegee Zamboni his fresh-chucked nad butter across the imbecile's curvilinear topography twenty minutes later, Chaperón was startled to discover he was already beginning to pretend to develop feelings for her...
Date Written: December 14, 2004
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.3125
Comments:
12/24/2004 hagit mizrachy (5):
"When last call finally came around Chaperón Jiménez was mindful to wait ten full Mississippis before slithering up to the underage skank at the bar. The evening'd been a misfire so far romance-wise but Chaperón still figured he had a shot at scaring up some sudden death beaver. Perching his lips by the skank's ear he spoke to her in his suavest, most sensual tones.
"What's your poison, beautiful?"
"Wha?" The girl turned toward him robotically, mouth slightly ajar.
"I said can I offer you a cocktail? I'll tell 'em to hold the tail f'you want."
At close range the small, asymmetrical eyes gave her face a imbecilic cast—but the way her tits reared up at him compensated in spades. Examining them closely, Chaperón envisioned spreading a coat of freshly spilt nut lacquer across them with a tiny squeegee rubber-banded to his testes. His cock began to seamonkey angrily.
"Omigod that's so sweet? Kin I have like a berry blast daiquiri?"
"You like having a blast eh? Doesn't surprise me somehow." Chaperón winked and made an "another round" gesture to the bartender as the bimbette fished a pack of 100s from her aquamarine mini-purse. "Say, y'know what a shrink'd say that purse of yours symbolizes, doncha sweetheart?"
"Omigod you are so rude? You think I'm like mental?" She lit up.
"No way, sugar—just suggesting maybe you're trying to tell me something...you know, subconsciously."
No ripple of comprehension muddied the still waters of her expression. Expertly concealing his exasperation, Chaperón slicked back his hair and slid a hand down his necktie suggestively. "Point is, gorgeous, they say a purse symbolizes a woman's sexuality."
"Like how embarrassing? I swear to God I got this at a sample sale?"
What was it with this chick? "Honey, all I'm saying's maybe you were sending me a message by unzipping it and opening it up wide like that." To drive home his meaning he burrowed his right middle finger into his left fist erotically and fucked her with his eyes as he spoke.
"You mean like a voice-mail? Omigod, I didn't bring my cell with, I am so sorry. I have to save up like my anytime minutes?" The look of apologetic concern on the stooge's face was heartbreaking.
"Forget it, baby, let's just—"
"So do we haveta talk more or kin I like blow you? You're like totally cute?"
Watching the tiny, testicle-driven squeegee Zamboni his fresh-chucked nad butter across the imbecile's curvilinear topography twenty minutes later, Chaperón was startled to discover he was already beginning to pretend to develop feelings for her..."
12/24/2004 Will Disney (5):
12/24/2004 TheBuyer (5): (no comment, thank you)
12/24/2004 qualcomm (4): 3.5, rounded up for math and christmas
12/24/2004 Litcube (5): Excellent.
12/24/2004 The Rid (5): Insightful, well written, funny and - best of all - honest from start to finish.
12/28/2004 scoop (3): Nothing personal brother, I appreciate the use of language here, ten full Misssissppis, seamonkeying, Etc. However the subject matter is just so damn well-tread and boring, and no amount of your facny east coast writing can heal this near fatal wound. I would have rounded up to a four "for Christmas" but I understand how fundementally offensive that would be to you and your ancient traditions.
10/23/2010 Marvin_Bernstein (2.5): totally goes with my latin fetish