“Garrett’s trying to get me.” You groan imagining his pansy-ass reaction to the news that Auntie Flo has come to visit sooner than expected. “I’ll call him later. So, tell me what’s up girl?”
“Well, I was calling to tell you that I had the most fabulous orgasm the other day.”
“What? I thought you weren’t seeing anyone! You slut! You are supposed to keep me up to speed on things!”
Gina makes moaning noises, and then breaks out in giggles. She has the deep flat voice that some very successful sex operators use to bring home the bacon. Except she’s not fat or anything, she’s as cute as a button and hates every minute of it. Or she pretends to, so as not to make the ugly bitches jealous I guess. You analyze her moans, she’s definitely trying to make you more sexually frustrated than usual. Garrett’s got limited skills in the bedroom. You’ve been leaving Blahsmo out hoping against hope that he’ll take a hint, but so far it hasn’t worked.
“Talk!” you command, turning off the water faucet and rubbing your hands against the super soft pink hand towels you got on sale last week at J. C. Penney’s.
“Not a man, a vibrator.” You smile you know exactly the one she is talking about.
“The Pink Pearl Rabbit!” the pair of you squeal in unison.
“It’s better than a man!” Gina whimpers.
“Well, Duh! Blahsmo rated it the best vibrator ever! And you know the girls at Blahsmo don’t go gaga over just anything!”
The chat is running a bit long, particularly since you used every last spare minute to sleep in this morning. You are torn between finding out the nitty gritty on the vibe, or actually getting to work on time. You still have to brush your teeth and hair, and apply your makeup. You are up for a promotion soon and according to the Bible that means you should look your best without appearing to try.
“Dammit,” Gina growls from her end of the phone.
“S’wrong?” you ask, using a freehand to run your hairbrush through the tangles that found you last night while you were twisting in unsatisfied sexual angst.
“I can’t find the warrantee, I meant to save it- you know how I burn out the engines.”
“Ah, yes. And THAT is why you need a man!” You say, pleased with your assessment.
“Yeah, whatev! I have 50 little pearls ensconced in a pink little phallic object, with a clit tantalizer, I need no man!”
The argument has gone on like this for ages between the two of you. Gina’s super hot, super successful. She could have anyone she wanted, but because of that dumb ass at Barneys that broke her heart, she’s all Taming of the Shrew about things. She won’t even fool around! It’s like she’s gone all Madonna on your ass (the virgin Mary Madonna, not the Newly British one.) You squirt some paste onto your brush. And curse when a big chunk misses and lands in the sink. The day is just not working out for you so far. If it wasn’t for that promotion you would seriously go back to bed.
“Well, I was calling to tell you that I had the most fabulous orgasm the other day.”
“What? I thought you weren’t seeing anyone! You slut! You are supposed to keep me up to speed on things!”
Gina makes moaning noises, and then breaks out in giggles. She has the deep flat voice that some very successful sex operators use to bring home the bacon. Except she’s not fat or anything, she’s as cute as a button and hates every minute of it. Or she pretends to, so as not to make the ugly bitches jealous I guess. You analyze her moans, she’s definitely trying to make you more sexually frustrated than usual. Garrett’s got limited skills in the bedroom. You’ve been leaving Blahsmo out hoping against hope that he’ll take a hint, but so far it hasn’t worked.
“Talk!” you command, turning off the water faucet and rubbing your hands against the super soft pink hand towels you got on sale last week at J. C. Penney’s.
“Not a man, a vibrator.” You smile you know exactly the one she is talking about.
“The Pink Pearl Rabbit!” the pair of you squeal in unison.
“It’s better than a man!” Gina whimpers.
“Well, Duh! Blahsmo rated it the best vibrator ever! And you know the girls at Blahsmo don’t go gaga over just anything!”
The chat is running a bit long, particularly since you used every last spare minute to sleep in this morning. You are torn between finding out the nitty gritty on the vibe, or actually getting to work on time. You still have to brush your teeth and hair, and apply your makeup. You are up for a promotion soon and according to the Bible that means you should look your best without appearing to try.
“Dammit,” Gina growls from her end of the phone.
“S’wrong?” you ask, using a freehand to run your hairbrush through the tangles that found you last night while you were twisting in unsatisfied sexual angst.
“I can’t find the warrantee, I meant to save it- you know how I burn out the engines.”
“Ah, yes. And THAT is why you need a man!” You say, pleased with your assessment.
“Yeah, whatev! I have 50 little pearls ensconced in a pink little phallic object, with a clit tantalizer, I need no man!”
The argument has gone on like this for ages between the two of you. Gina’s super hot, super successful. She could have anyone she wanted, but because of that dumb ass at Barneys that broke her heart, she’s all Taming of the Shrew about things. She won’t even fool around! It’s like she’s gone all Madonna on your ass (the virgin Mary Madonna, not the Newly British one.) You squirt some paste onto your brush. And curse when a big chunk misses and lands in the sink. The day is just not working out for you so far. If it wasn’t for that promotion you would seriously go back to bed.
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