Blackbich
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2001
- Posts
- 2,564
A little boy and girl were having lunch at school. "Tommy," she said, "I'm not eating any more chicken sandwiches." "Why?" he said. "Cause I'm starting to grow feathers down here", she said, pointing to the bottom of her tummy. "I don't believe you", he said. "You'll have to show me." Behind the school they went where the inspection took place. "Gee, you're right," he said. "I've been eating a lot of chicken, perhaps I'm getting feathers too." "Well, I'd better have a look," she said. After a lengthy examination, she looked up and said, "Oh, I think it's too late for you, you've got the neck and giblets too!"
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Marge was in bed with a man (not her husband). All of a sudden, they heard a noise downstairs. "Oh, my God, your husband is home! What am I going to do?" "Just stay in bed with me. He's probably so drunk, he ain't gonna notice you here with me." The fear of getting caught trying to escape was more powerful than the thought of getting caught in bed with Marge, so he trusted her advice. Sure enough, Marge's husband came crawling into bed and as he pulled the covers over him, he pulled the blankets, exposing six feet. "Honey!" he yelled. "What the hell is going on? I see six feet at the end of the bed!" "Dear, you're so drunk, you can't count. If you don't believe me, count them again." The husband got out of bed, and counted. "One, two, three, four... By gosh, you're right, dear!"
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Marge was in bed with a man (not her husband). All of a sudden, they heard a noise downstairs. "Oh, my God, your husband is home! What am I going to do?" "Just stay in bed with me. He's probably so drunk, he ain't gonna notice you here with me." The fear of getting caught trying to escape was more powerful than the thought of getting caught in bed with Marge, so he trusted her advice. Sure enough, Marge's husband came crawling into bed and as he pulled the covers over him, he pulled the blankets, exposing six feet. "Honey!" he yelled. "What the hell is going on? I see six feet at the end of the bed!" "Dear, you're so drunk, you can't count. If you don't believe me, count them again." The husband got out of bed, and counted. "One, two, three, four... By gosh, you're right, dear!"
