Wednesday, September 5, 2012
A Woman of Ill-Repute ( Like A Faucet)
"Well, he went into the kitchen and returned with "Wine-In-A-Box," Florena stated as we ate nachos on the patio deck.
"Wine-In-A-Box?" I repeated, dipping a nacho into a salsa dip. "I haven't seen one of those in years," I added.
"Yes, that's what I said," replied Florena. She continued, "I think the box was almost empty. So, I had to tell him to 'Tip it, Malcolm.'"
Trying not to smile at Florena's last statement, I asked, "How did you meet him?"
"Online. He likes big girls, and he's sixty-two years old. Do you think he's too old for me?"
"Sixty-two?" I repeated. After a brief thought, I stated, "Actually, you act and walk like a sixty-two year old....sometimes. So, the two of you may be the same age....physically," as I took a long gulp of my bourbon.
Biting into a nacho, Florena said, "Yes, I do have some knee problems which slows me down quite a bit. Anyway, he didn't serve any snacks with the Wine-In-A-Box; and he wanted OS."
"OS?" I asked.
Whispering, Florena said, "Oral Sex. I then told him that I don't give blow jobs."
Smiling so much that my face began to hurt, I asked, "You don't? Really?"
"No! At least not with a stranger. I don't want him to think that I'm a 'Woman of Ill-Repute.' Plus, he has ED."
"ED?" I asked, guzzling more bourbon and eating another nacho immediately thereafter.
"Erectile Dysfunction, Charles. He didn't take his little pill before I showed up," offered Florena.
"You now, Florena...this is too much information. I know I'm going to hate myself for asking this question, but then what happened?"
"He wanted to cuddle and lick me."
"I told him that cuddling leads to other things that I didn't want to happen. That wasn't I came over for. But, we cuddled, anyway. Then he licked me 'down there.' He kept the ceiling light on the whole time."
"Oh yeah?" I offered, not knowing what else to say.
Florena gauged my facial expression and stated, "Yep. While he was doing oral sex on me, he said, 'I'm like a 'faucet' down there. So wet. Flowing like a raging river'...." as she listened to me choke on my 'good' bourbon. She continued during my coughing spell, "I don't think I'll be going over to his house, anymore. No snacks. Boxed wine. And a bright ceiling light. I hope you don't post this escapade on your blog, either."
In the meantime, until next week and keep praising HIS name!