Quote:
Originally posted by ltl/fb
TISH! MM, I never suspected you of being into that. I guess they might all be suit-clad female lawyers. . . .
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I so totally know what you mean.
It's like that time in law school when I was sent (I won't tell who sent them - too cute!) a ticket to the West Coast. On Spring Break!!! My dreams were coming true - we were going on a winery tour!
Turns out, he had a VERY good early weekend in Reno (the Yanks didn't win in four, but he did mention something about an ace on the river, whatever that means!) and was ready to make up for his emotional distance and his failure to repay the money I had borrowed from my parents to post his bail.
I had expected one of the charming B&B's to which he had become accustomed during his excessive philandering before we were truly an "item," but the Days Inn was perfectly nice. When he exposed himself, excited, I didn't giggle. I was on a winery tour! I took his length in my mouth an pretended to gag to make him feel better about himself.
I cleaned his vomit off the toilet bright and early the next morning. My eyes avoided the harsh light of the sun reflecting through the residue of his coke mirror and thought to myself, "It's going to be a great day!"
Our first winery turned out to be our last. Who knew that last call was so early at a winery? Or that they would take his "Swallow. Don't spit." jokes so gravely. I thought they were funny; I laughed until he beckoned me to follow him into the disabled stall of the men's restroom. "I've got your sweet Pinot Gris right here," he said, slapping his hairless ass and then grabbing the rail in front of him with both hands.
I'm no oenophile, but I've experimented enough with onanism to appreciate a good thing when it's offered so longingly. I didn't get to taste much wine that day, but slave (oops!) I'll always remember you like that Semilion Chardonnay - smooth, fruity, and with a buttery aftertaste.
