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I lounged on the beach, following the adventures of David Copperfield. That blasted Mr. Murdstone was likely to pose no good prospects for young David, and I was certainly concerned about his prospects, should anything happen to the boy's poor foolish mother.
Jimson skipped up to me, apparently ecstatic at having discovered that people, "don't, like, totally flip their wig if you go topless." She had taken advantage of the 'topless' situation and was expanding the scope, if the not the moral rectitude, of her tan in the Mediterranean sun.
"See those birds over there?" Jimson pointed to a pair of French schoolgirls, twins most likely, removing their short plaid uniform skirts and shirts, and spreading out their small blanket on the beach. "I think they really like you," said Jimson. "Let's go over there and see if they want to meet us up in our room." Jimson bit her lower lip and raised an eyebrow in a lecherous expression that shocked me.
"Jimson, I understood that we had settled this matter during courtship." I lit my pipe and put on an honest and compassionate expression. "There are to be no 'group scenes' or whatever you call it. I expect you to honor the sanctity of holy matrimony."
Jimson looked down at me with pleading eyes. And while I didn't indulge her naughty 'fantasies', I made it up to her that night, believe you me! Oh, man... Oh, man...
Date Written: July 08, 2002
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 3.5