Well, you didn't show up again. I left around 10 p.m. Didn't have any desire to do anything naughty without you. I did have a little excitement though when I walked up the trail to the kayak course. Right under one of the lights, only a few yards in front of me, a human-type person jumped out of the water, . . . totally naked! Turned out to be a guy. Darn the bad luck! He was more surprised than I was and tried to jump back in the river. Turns out he was washing up after a strenuous training run on the course, and camping nearby. I heard female voices coming from the campground just before the incident. After thinking about it for a while, it occurred to me I probably threw a clinker into his plans for the night.
At first I was chuckling to myself, "why couldn't it have been a girl", but then I remembered a week earlier, when a kayaking meet was taking place, every women I saw would make Herman roll up like a window shade! Now I didn't say all women kayakers are homely; I just pointed out that in that group, I didn't see a single one even half as pretty as you. I don't think it's the water, but something went wrong. Maybe it's in their jeans, . . . ah, . . . I mean genes.
I'll be back on the island tomorrow with greasy fried chicken and my note pad. Will still be in my red shorts. They're kinda loose and just barely stay up on their own. Just don't expect me to jump up and down unless you're hoping for a dandy surprise. Of course, just looking at you will cause the filling in my shorts to expand, so I might not have to worry about them falling off. The shorts, I mean; not my ready-to-explode body parts! After I fill your tummy, tell me what other parts you'd like me to make feel good.
The ending has yet to be written. Without you, the story is not complete.
08-13-09: Boy, I really screwed this up. I really hoped you were going to show up tonight, so I went all out. In an effort to make a good first impression, I dug my "courtin' car" out of moth balls, so to speak. I bought it new in '93 and used it during my last encounter. I can't even talk about that one yet. If any guys are reading this, they would hunt me down and kick me all over the place for being so stupid.
She was honest to goodness begging me to take her, but she was so drunk, I thought it didn't count. Later I realized she was drunk not due to the thought of being with me; I found her that way because she wanted someone, anyone, and I didn't deliver. I thought she would respect me when she sobered up. Wrong. I did manage to monkey around between her hot thighs, but I didn't even know which part of the plumbing I was working on! It WAS dark, and I was navigating without a map. She didn't complain so I must have been doing something right. A number of my coworkers at the time, including her best friend, pestered me quite often for details of that night, but if she didn't even share the horror with her best friend, who am I to blab her secret? To this day, they all have to use their imaginations to figure out what deed I done, and anything they can dream up is bound to be better than the actual event. I actually enjoyed our conversation during an early breakfast when she had started to sober up.
I only drove this car a few times since that night. It's the perfect metaphor to my sex life. It's 16 years old, has only 3,200 miles, and isn't even broken in yet. I haven't even tried to find its top speed yet or how far it can go.
I want you to know, I spent an hour hacking my way through all the massive overgrowth and other obstacles to get that car out of the garage. Had to put in a different battery and pump up the tires. That's more than I need; (my body, I mean)! Even washed off the dust. Had to switch the long-expired license plates. Sure, it's stupid, but you know what they say about guys thinking with their two heads. If you would have seen me arrive in my old rusty trusty '88 Grand Caravan, you would surely tell everyone here. I would have to move over to a different web site and start over under an assumed user n |
