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destinie21 said:
YUUUUMMM!
YUUUUMMM!
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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vella_ms said:YUUUUMMM!
why thank you
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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I was going to start a new thread but this one will do just fine as it's no topic and all I just need to rant and rave a bit
I am the first to admit that in my day, I’ve run across quite a few assholes. I’ve even dated a few of them and apart from circulating a few scathing slam bits among my closest friends, I’ve kept my mouth shut, feeling that in most cases discretion is the better part of valour.
There are times, however, when the spirit of righteousness wells up within me and I am compelled to take up my pen.
This is just such a time.
Following the breakup of her most recent serious relationship and while on the rebound, a good friend of mine became involved in an ill-advised liaison with a man (well an alleged man anyway)
So let’s get to it.
It is often said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that love is blind. Having succumbed to these clichés on several occasionsI am not generally one to judge on the basis of appearance alone.
There are exceptions, of course.
My friend is a beautiful, accomplished, intelligent and funny person – with hideous taste in men. she suffers from low self-esteem arising from a variety of causes – most recently, her humiliating breakup with a guy she had been dating for 18 months. An expose of her ex’s behaviour would take up pages and maybe one day I’ll get around to writing it. Suffice to say that he treated her in an appalling manner and she has been picking up the shards of her ego ever since.
She has since vowed then to avoid good-looking men, in the belief that the ugly ones would be “more grateful”. I could have told her that she was wrong, but even I could not guess at the extent of her error.
She met her new swain at a bar (red flag #1) while she was drunk (red flag #2) and found his come-on line (“show us your tits”) to be charming. (I would have given him a shot to the luggage for that one, but she is remarkably tolerant).
Following their first intimate evening together, she phoned me up all aflutter. “You have to meet M”, she enthused. “I just know you’ll love him.” Having been down this road with her before, I doubted it. I kept putting it off, hoping that the attraction would wear itself out once she came to her senses.
From the start, she showed signs of dissatisfaction. “Well, he’s not perfect,” she admitted candidly. “He never lifts the seat, no matter how many times I remind him and we had a huge fight because he refused to wear a condom at first. And he’s kind of hairy. He’s not especially well-hung either, but what the hell, nobody’s perfect and he gives great backrubs.” I recognized the hollow sound of rationalization in her voice.
The little she told me only strengthened my resolve to avoid meeting this charmer. I considered some of his comments grounds for justifiable homicide and I didn’t think I had the stomach to make nice with a guy who in all likelihood was a world-class idiot.
Having been burned in the past by giving this woman honest advice, I’ve resolved just to keep my mouth shut and let this current fiasco run its course. In these situations (where your friend knows damn well that the guy is a loser but can’t admit it out loud), the truth is rarely met with gratitude
Every time she brought up her new beau, I’d change the subject. This cowardly course of action seemed to be succeeding – until today whan I met her for coffee.
“Let’s get a table in the back”, she hissed at me. “I’ve got something to show you.” She took her digital camera out of her purse. “Here he is,” she said.
With a trembling hand and faltering courage, I took the camera from her and steeled myself to look.
The new love of her life was no more than 5’6” tall and had a hairline receding so quickly that it was almost audible. He was living proof of the accuracy of the Darwinian theory of evolution, though to describe his features as simian would be an affront to lower primates everywhere. I found it incredible that he could excite lust in any woman other than Jane Goodall.
“Check this out”, she said slyly, leaning over to advance the frame. “I took it last night. What an animal!”
As the grisly image registered, I could only echo her words.
“What……?” I croaked hoarsely, “An animal??”
Stark naked and leering, M reclined on her bed. Or, to be more accurate, he hovered several inches above it, afloat on a luxurious body afro so lush and extensive that as far as I could tell, the only parts of his body bereft of hair were his gleaming bald head, his eyeballs and the soles of his feet. (He wasn’t smiling so I can’t be sure about his teeth.)
He was so liberally blanketed in glossy black fur that had he frequented these parts 200 years ago, he would have been in danger of being killed for his pelt. Even these days, he’d be wise to avoid known trap lines when winter camping. The abundant ringlets springing from his ears suggested that trapped within his skull was a Lilliputian Rapunzel bent on escape. A glimpse at the cascade of tresses flowing from his nose led me to believe that she was exploring alternate points of egress.
As I struggled for words, she prattled on. “For our first date, we went to the zoo with his family,” she confided, and went on to describe the day. After introductions were made, M’s family had wandered off – to no doubt pass a pleasant afternoon swinging contentedly from the trees among their kin in the Primate House.
I forced myself to take another look at the horrifying image. With that much body hair, I concluded that personal grooming would be a Sisyphean task – I was sure that he only achieved it thanks to the diligent attentions of an army of tireless cats working in round the clock shifts.
As my eyes were drawn inexorably lower, her earlier criticisms of him suddenly made sense. Although repelled by the sight of the rest of his body, it was his microscopic member that provoked my pity.
No wonder he didn’t like condoms: the only sheathes that could ever have fit are those designed to be drawn up over wounds on fingers. Given his pitiful endowment, he’d be more likely to infect her with West Nile Virus than with any sexually transmitted disease.
“So?” she said. “Remind you of anything?”
Well, yeah – a little, bald Yeti with a button in his lap, but I wasn’t about to say it out loud.
She looked at me expectantly as I simultaneously fought to control my nausea and overcome my revulsion.
“Uh, he sure is something,” I said, striking a balance between complete honesty and tact.
Looks aren't everything but his personality womps
if only I could wash my eyeballs ewwwww
I am the first to admit that in my day, I’ve run across quite a few assholes. I’ve even dated a few of them and apart from circulating a few scathing slam bits among my closest friends, I’ve kept my mouth shut, feeling that in most cases discretion is the better part of valour.
There are times, however, when the spirit of righteousness wells up within me and I am compelled to take up my pen.
This is just such a time.
Following the breakup of her most recent serious relationship and while on the rebound, a good friend of mine became involved in an ill-advised liaison with a man (well an alleged man anyway)
So let’s get to it.
It is often said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that love is blind. Having succumbed to these clichés on several occasionsI am not generally one to judge on the basis of appearance alone.
There are exceptions, of course.
My friend is a beautiful, accomplished, intelligent and funny person – with hideous taste in men. she suffers from low self-esteem arising from a variety of causes – most recently, her humiliating breakup with a guy she had been dating for 18 months. An expose of her ex’s behaviour would take up pages and maybe one day I’ll get around to writing it. Suffice to say that he treated her in an appalling manner and she has been picking up the shards of her ego ever since.
She has since vowed then to avoid good-looking men, in the belief that the ugly ones would be “more grateful”. I could have told her that she was wrong, but even I could not guess at the extent of her error.
She met her new swain at a bar (red flag #1) while she was drunk (red flag #2) and found his come-on line (“show us your tits”) to be charming. (I would have given him a shot to the luggage for that one, but she is remarkably tolerant).
Following their first intimate evening together, she phoned me up all aflutter. “You have to meet M”, she enthused. “I just know you’ll love him.” Having been down this road with her before, I doubted it. I kept putting it off, hoping that the attraction would wear itself out once she came to her senses.
From the start, she showed signs of dissatisfaction. “Well, he’s not perfect,” she admitted candidly. “He never lifts the seat, no matter how many times I remind him and we had a huge fight because he refused to wear a condom at first. And he’s kind of hairy. He’s not especially well-hung either, but what the hell, nobody’s perfect and he gives great backrubs.” I recognized the hollow sound of rationalization in her voice.
The little she told me only strengthened my resolve to avoid meeting this charmer. I considered some of his comments grounds for justifiable homicide and I didn’t think I had the stomach to make nice with a guy who in all likelihood was a world-class idiot.
Having been burned in the past by giving this woman honest advice, I’ve resolved just to keep my mouth shut and let this current fiasco run its course. In these situations (where your friend knows damn well that the guy is a loser but can’t admit it out loud), the truth is rarely met with gratitude
Every time she brought up her new beau, I’d change the subject. This cowardly course of action seemed to be succeeding – until today whan I met her for coffee.
“Let’s get a table in the back”, she hissed at me. “I’ve got something to show you.” She took her digital camera out of her purse. “Here he is,” she said.
With a trembling hand and faltering courage, I took the camera from her and steeled myself to look.
The new love of her life was no more than 5’6” tall and had a hairline receding so quickly that it was almost audible. He was living proof of the accuracy of the Darwinian theory of evolution, though to describe his features as simian would be an affront to lower primates everywhere. I found it incredible that he could excite lust in any woman other than Jane Goodall.
“Check this out”, she said slyly, leaning over to advance the frame. “I took it last night. What an animal!”
As the grisly image registered, I could only echo her words.
“What……?” I croaked hoarsely, “An animal??”
Stark naked and leering, M reclined on her bed. Or, to be more accurate, he hovered several inches above it, afloat on a luxurious body afro so lush and extensive that as far as I could tell, the only parts of his body bereft of hair were his gleaming bald head, his eyeballs and the soles of his feet. (He wasn’t smiling so I can’t be sure about his teeth.)
He was so liberally blanketed in glossy black fur that had he frequented these parts 200 years ago, he would have been in danger of being killed for his pelt. Even these days, he’d be wise to avoid known trap lines when winter camping. The abundant ringlets springing from his ears suggested that trapped within his skull was a Lilliputian Rapunzel bent on escape. A glimpse at the cascade of tresses flowing from his nose led me to believe that she was exploring alternate points of egress.
As I struggled for words, she prattled on. “For our first date, we went to the zoo with his family,” she confided, and went on to describe the day. After introductions were made, M’s family had wandered off – to no doubt pass a pleasant afternoon swinging contentedly from the trees among their kin in the Primate House.
I forced myself to take another look at the horrifying image. With that much body hair, I concluded that personal grooming would be a Sisyphean task – I was sure that he only achieved it thanks to the diligent attentions of an army of tireless cats working in round the clock shifts.
As my eyes were drawn inexorably lower, her earlier criticisms of him suddenly made sense. Although repelled by the sight of the rest of his body, it was his microscopic member that provoked my pity.
No wonder he didn’t like condoms: the only sheathes that could ever have fit are those designed to be drawn up over wounds on fingers. Given his pitiful endowment, he’d be more likely to infect her with West Nile Virus than with any sexually transmitted disease.
“So?” she said. “Remind you of anything?”
Well, yeah – a little, bald Yeti with a button in his lap, but I wasn’t about to say it out loud.
She looked at me expectantly as I simultaneously fought to control my nausea and overcome my revulsion.
“Uh, he sure is something,” I said, striking a balance between complete honesty and tact.
Looks aren't everything but his personality womps
if only I could wash my eyeballs ewwwww
lucky-E-leven
Aphrodisiaddict
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Dammit, Des!
Give a girl some warning before you make her spray water and laugh until her ribs ache.
~lucky (not envious of your friend)
Give a girl some warning before you make her spray water and laugh until her ribs ache.
~lucky (not envious of your friend)
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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lucky-E-leven said:Dammit, Des!
Give a girl some warning before you make her spray water and laugh until her ribs ache.
~lucky (not envious of your friend)
I'm sorry didn't know it was that funny although I freely admit that I may have abused sarcasm in the above post.
lucky-E-leven
Aphrodisiaddict
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destinie21 said:
Abused?
Let's talk on abuse, shall we?
~lucky
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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seriously you guys didn't see him he could have used afro sheen and picked his chest. *shudder gag retch
Last edited:
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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ruminator said:
well give us a kiss while your down there
seriously thanks
ruminator
An unusual mind
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destinie21 said:well give us a kiss while your down there
seriously thanks
,..you have to know about my slight character defect that limits my self control in applying kisses from a position such as this....some would say neurosis, I prefer the term,...lust..
:smile:
....pssssstt..need me to lace that up for you while I'm down here?
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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lol dammit I choked on my sandwich better kiss double time to make up for turning my pb&J into a missile of almost death
Last edited:
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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ruminator said:...kissing urgently and catching little licks of jelly .......
that's more like it
Belegon
Still Kicking Around
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"He was so liberally blanketed in glossy black fur that had he frequented these parts 200 years ago, he would have been in danger of being killed for his pelt. Even these days, he’d be wise to avoid known trap lines when winter camping. The abundant ringlets springing from his ears suggested that trapped within his skull was a Lilliputian Rapunzel bent on escape. A glimpse at the cascade of tresses flowing from his nose led me to believe that she was exploring alternate points of egress."
This is funny as hell!
This is funny as hell!
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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Oh I giggle but not from being tickled well it's mor of a throaty laugh but either way
well it's mor of a throaty laugh but either way
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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Despite my intense wish to remove monkey man's image from my retina nad yes my very soul not all of this has been bad I've decided to do a story with excerpts from those scathing celeberty magazines fake spoofy type stuff interspersed in the story. I rarely use my fucking about in my stories but I'll do it just for kicks. thanks all I needed a boost
ruminator
An unusual mind
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I'll consider them all to be good response indicators, just to be safe. Isn't it an exciting fine line that seperates the purr from the growl?
.....hmmm,.........had to use a little nibbling to get that bit 'o jelly from the back of your knee
.....hmmm,.........had to use a little nibbling to get that bit 'o jelly from the back of your knee
destinie21
Daddy's Brat
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wait I think theres more there
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Dest, it's the way you tell 'em, honey! Such imagery - scary, but funny as fuck!!!
Lou
Lou
RenzaJones
you know you like it
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baby you're still a trip.
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i keep coming back to this thread just to see dest's av.. dear god woman..
a triple yum and a lip smackin thumbs up.. i dont think ill ever get tired of seeing it...
a triple yum and a lip smackin thumbs up.. i dont think ill ever get tired of seeing it...
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