ooley
|
|
2011-02-10 11-02-49
|
|
And? Got 94677ged don't know why and also don't care. I know it seems odd, me being so young and you being so, well, old. I didn't see i married personal Paine Field-Lake Stickney t coming, I mean I shop there every week, I see you there all of the time. Maybe yesterday it was just the slight buzz I had when I stopped in for a few party favors, maybe it was the gravely sound of your voice and the sexy, surly look of general unhappiness you had on your face. You haven't always had red hair, and maybe that's what suckered me in. There's something about the scowl on your face that makes me want to sit you down with a fifth of Monarch whiskey, a pack of Parliament Ultra light 's and a box of Trojans. We could talk, I know behind those glasses and sour expression there is a story to tell. I want to rip open your blouse and bite that delicate, leathery neck of yours. I want to know your deepest secrets and most most vivid dreams. Especially the dirty ones. You seem like the delicate kind of flower that would play hard to get with a generally unpleasant demeanor which would melt away after a drink or to reveal a girlish soft side that you might (a boy can dream) show only to me. I could wash your luxurious hair for you, maybe clip your toe nails and paint them. I want to pamper you, you MILF of a goddess, you! Maybe you remember me? I was tall (6'5") and slim. I have the mutton chop side burns (in a sexy way) and Buddy Holly glasses. I was wearing a satin, dressy cowboy shirt and and skinny jeans. I didn't really say much when I came through your line, I was intimidated by your overwhelmingly sexy, womanly presence, and feminine wiles. The thing I like best about you is that you are sexy without trying. I couldn't imagine what kind of a sex bomb you would be if you actually put some effort into it. Anyhow, no offense if you have a man, I mean it's possible someone else got past the heavy odor of cigarettes and wet catfood(?) to see the woman that I saw shine through.
|