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Couldn't help feeling bad for her standing alone at a party like that, all waify & disoriented. Brought out the father figure in me, you might say. The urge to take care of them; protect 'em. Compassion. Comfortable familiarity helps the shy ones open up, I always found, so I ran up from behind and using an exaggerated bowling motion, planted a palm on one of her ass cheeks. She gave a little gasp and lurched away from me like a startled gazelle, but I was ready. Catching her by the shirt collar I humorously made the sound of a pickup screeching to a halt, & giving in to a mischievous impulse, dumped my drink over her tits. "That's what's known as an icebreaker, baby!" I shouted, letting out a loud, good natured laugh. A bit forwards, but I've learnt folks who disparage lowbrow humor ofttimes end up laughing the hardest. You do get the occasional misfire, though. "Get the fuck off me, psycho!" she screamed & clawed at my face. Close call, but I managed to lean back in time. Minimal contact. "Now take it easy honey--" "Let me go you fucking creep!!! HELP!!!" Man she was shy! Seriously, it was all I could do to hang onto her. "C'mon, we just got off on the wrong foot," I panted. My rod was getting hard & I figured some hot frenching might wear down her resistance, meaning change it into cunt nectar. (Maybe we could still become friends in other words.) I leaned forwards romantically, but a bunch of hands on my shoulder jerked me downwards, next thing I was on the ground getting pummeled! Those who know me know I have a little secret: action tends to get me randy. In short order my boner was rasping up against my briefs something fearsome. Accordingly, as her so-called saviors smashed up my face, I fished it out: the old magician's trick of doing x while your audience's attention fixates on y. "What the fuck?! He's got his cock out!!" disgusted voices rang out. "He's got a fucking hard-on!!" This confused pause gave me the opening I needed & I heaved myself upwards, tearing myself away from my assailants with the git-up-and-go of an ocelot packing a major league choad. In a stroke of luck, my ding dong by this time was so big it made for an ideal makeshift pole vaulting stick, handy for a quick getaway. Sproinngggg!!! I vaulted over my own cock, through an open window into the alleyway below, pulling Ol' Lomborg back through my legs & slinging it over my shoulder like a musket as I landed in a crouch. Don't try this at home boys! Welp, looky here...a split second later I heard my date land beside me! Seems when she saw the size of my giant fucking cock she turned the "Stop Sexually Harassing Poor L’il Me" tune she was humming into a medley, switching over midstream to "Lemme Wrap My Lips (Around this Guy's Giant Fucking Cock)"! That's why you always got to take a lady's changeable nature into account when you're interested in a particular one, fellows…don't be put off if she doesn't respond at first. For woman is like the moon, see? Speaking of moonlight, word to the wise: light a candle before you rut out her hole. Not only does the soft light lend a tender, romantic glow to the proceedings, it also tends to disguise or smooth over (in a visual sense) any moles or wrinkles on her otherwise flawless, alabaster skin. Even if you personally don't mind such trivialities they can make your lady self-conscious. Point is, the mental comfort afforded by candlelight may leave her more ready to receive your ding dong from a lubricational standpoint. And that's a smooth feeling, gentlemen.
Date Written: November 16, 2007
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.16667