It’s Saturday night and I am getting down with my fine specimen of a man. And when I say fine, I mean FINE. We’re talking cut arms, abs, pecks, a cock that rocks and skin like chocolate. I mean he is all the dessert I need and then some.
So, there we are playing all the greatest hits – from the front, the back, the side… We’re talking HOT, headboard grabbing, late-night sex. The kind of sex you have after a bottle of wine knowing you aren’t doing shit the morning because you can’t walk straight.
We hit our crescendos and all is magical and enchanted in the world as the euphoria washes over. I laid there confident that I had rocked his world yet again because I am good at the sex. After performing my victory cheer, I immediately pop up for the post-coitus pee.
As I wobble my way to the bathroom he asks, “Why do you always run to the bathroom right after sex?”
Now ladies you know why we do this; we don’t want the lava pee of a UTI and a week of cranberry cocktails. At this point I decided that my man needed to know the truth, so I gleefully explained “I use a turkey baster to suck out the cum and then sell it on the black market to eager lesbians who want to have an adorable biracial baby.”
“YOU WHAT?!” he asks in clear disbelief of what has come out of my mouth.
“I use a turkey baster to suck out the cum and then sell it on the black market to eager lesbians. There’s a huge market out there.” I repeat slowly for his understanding.
“Huge market where?” he questions.
Now I’ve got him. “The dark web. I’m getting top dollar for your soldiers so we may have to go for a double tonight!” I announce confidently.
“You’re kidding right?” he asks clearly still very confused.
“Ha ha, sure” I answer as I crawl into bed and kiss him on the cheek. I turn off the light to leave him wondering what level of crazy I have achieved. Is it wrong that I put a baster in the bathroom for the next month just to mess with him?
Kommentit