bein' WATCHED?...well get a ticket to the catch-up train by click'n here fer STRANGER...DANGER? pt1 (cuz i ain't relive'n all over again just fer you) before we leave the station to yer next destination...and now the excruciate'n conclusion to STRANGER...DANGER? pt. 2
i rummaged feverishly thru the tan Hermes briefcase look'n fer a contact
number to contact the hopeful owner of said bag with my one hand...while i waited fer the paint to dry on the other...but all i could find was the name "LARRY" printed in bold helvetica font on a blank antique egg shell colored business card along with a phone number
so i contacted Ernestine down at the local phone company and had her
patch me thru to this "LARRY" fella...but of course all she wanted to go on to me about was how she felted cheated by the 3 bean salad at last sundays church social that her dear friend Marcella brought cuz all she could honestly taste were 2 distinct flavored beans apparently...and after several more minutes discuss'n the mass differences between her rheumatism and my patience...she patched me thru...
unfortunately though...all i got was his voice mail so i left him a simple yet effective message with my number...along with my inseam size and coordinates to my multiple personalities...and to call me back at his earliest convenience (as long as i'm not bein inconvenienced)
curiosity was sett'n in as i was sett'n my hair...who could this LARRY be?
could this be someone like 60's sex symbol major Nelson Riley played by veteran character actor Larry Hagman? (who gave me major wood in reruns back in the 80's)
i didn't really care to be honest...as long as it wasn't...
some colostomitic call-in host that resembled that bag of bones Larry King
2 hours later as i was flipp'n thru my latest issue of INCHES magazine...
there would be a mysterious knock at my front door so i jumped gingerly off my crushed green velvet couch and opened the door to see who it was...and trust me when i say i was absolutely blown away...cuz the gentleman caller looked just like the spitt'n image stunt double to Mel Gibson...straight off the set of Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome
well...i don't have to tell you...i was a smitten kitten!
i immediately invited him inside from the rain fer a nite cap...but then i
realized it was only 2 in the afternoon...so of course i was ready fer some delightful "conversation" cuz my sky rocket was already in flight...thankfully i managed to compose myself and asked him if he was here fer the briefcase
shake'n his head...in his loosely fit beige slacks...he threw me a devilish
lil grin and with the raise of his sweaty left brow...i knew right away this was not gonna end in a simple handshake (nor did i want it to)
BUTT of course...
he had a bit of an agenda of his own that i would soon come to find out
he told me that he enjoyed watch'n me perform on stage fer the past month at the 90's and then he would proceed to follow me a few times a nite as i waited patiently fer the metro transit #4 to take me home until i was dropped off 2 blocks from my shithole before he would devise his deviously devilish plan to get my attention...though i should'a been shocked as shit he told me all this...i have to admit...i was a bit turned on by my middle of the nite stalker
as he drew himself closer and closer into my own personal bubble...i felt
the restless natives down below dance'n in my danger zone...as his chest burst free from his blazer...i could smell the intoxicate'n call of his wild ways command'n me
i felt like a sacrificial kitten in my lamb skinned nighty (that was remarkably open) i was absolutely helpless to resist...and really...why would i?
the dam was ready to burst on his britches...my newly acquired stalker
was ready to deflower me and he asked if i had ever had "daddy dick" as he slowly unzipped (since he was old enough to be my parental guardian after all) his mammoth mouth water'n manwich flopped out and i awkwardly explained to him...
that my dad had passed away from leukemia when i was 9 and pedophelia wasn't really his thing (ps...total boner killer when you start talk'n about yer dead dad when a throbb'n prick is present) so he hadda quickly explain in his best throaty porn voice to me that he was only talk'n specifically about role play banter...which i had never been privy to yet in my litany of liasons...so the next thing i know...
sorry kittens...but this is where yer unadultered altered universal imagination will be kick'n in (so cum to yer own dirty lil cockclusions)
so in the end...not ALL strangers are a bad danger...but that's fer you to
decide...i met him 3 more times...in 3 more ways...but never in a 3way...should i have?...well that's all u need to know i guess...
now GET OFF MY DRESS!
now GET OFF MY DRESS!
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