Post by goldenmyst on Mar 14, 2022 19:10:25 GMT -6
Boudoir Blues
“Honey, please grace me with your presence in bed. You’ve left me to my own devices for a week now. When a woman goes solo she gets desensitized to lovemaking with her man. You want me fully in gear don’t you?”
“I can hear you in the boudoir in the throes of passion. Trust me this very night I’ll join you for the touchy-feely we both are starving for. Just wait until I get through the series of John Hindle’s smut shack stories. I am halfway through.”
“Damn, you’ve made me a sensual widow. Are you reading that erotica as an introductory manual on how to do it? Aren’t you a little too old and married for that?”
“You are never too experienced to fine-tune your technique. Besides, there is the turn-on element to consider. Don’t you want me in prime form when we do it?”
“I’d say a week is enough time-lapse for your excitement. And isn’t your attraction to me sufficient to get your gears in motion? Hey, are you holding out on me? Have you been going solo when I am out shopping? This situation looks mighty suspicious.”
“I’d never risk getting caught red-handed. You can trust me on that.”
“So are you saying if there was no risk you might go for it? Now I am livid.”
“The longer a man holds back the more he gives when the magic moment arrives. That is why I read his stories.”
*deep sigh* “Your obsession with his fiction makes him a saboteur of marriage in my book. That is enough for me to hate that Screwer more than a drug dealer. ”
“The stories are just a potency pill in word form. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“Look at me flipping the bird at you. And my upthrust finger expresses both exasperation and the need for what it symbolizes.”
“Honey, please grace me with your presence in bed. You’ve left me to my own devices for a week now. When a woman goes solo she gets desensitized to lovemaking with her man. You want me fully in gear don’t you?”
“I can hear you in the boudoir in the throes of passion. Trust me this very night I’ll join you for the touchy-feely we both are starving for. Just wait until I get through the series of John Hindle’s smut shack stories. I am halfway through.”
“Damn, you’ve made me a sensual widow. Are you reading that erotica as an introductory manual on how to do it? Aren’t you a little too old and married for that?”
“You are never too experienced to fine-tune your technique. Besides, there is the turn-on element to consider. Don’t you want me in prime form when we do it?”
“I’d say a week is enough time-lapse for your excitement. And isn’t your attraction to me sufficient to get your gears in motion? Hey, are you holding out on me? Have you been going solo when I am out shopping? This situation looks mighty suspicious.”
“I’d never risk getting caught red-handed. You can trust me on that.”
“So are you saying if there was no risk you might go for it? Now I am livid.”
“The longer a man holds back the more he gives when the magic moment arrives. That is why I read his stories.”
*deep sigh* “Your obsession with his fiction makes him a saboteur of marriage in my book. That is enough for me to hate that Screwer more than a drug dealer. ”
“The stories are just a potency pill in word form. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“Look at me flipping the bird at you. And my upthrust finger expresses both exasperation and the need for what it symbolizes.”
