Kinda reminds me of an incident last summer.....   While watching a movie with this chick I accidently spilled beer all over her shirt, worked like a charm.......

sofaking wrote:

Dirckman wrote:

Kinda reminds me of an incident last summer.....   While watching a movie with this chick I accidently spilled beer all over her shirt, worked like a charm.......

That's cause you're hot. If you were an ugly creepy old man, you'd have to take up woodworking or model trains.

Now I'm nervous cause maybe the creepy old man got his start just like me!!!!

I have a lovely memory of a hot summer day in 1968 at a beach on Denman Island. There was an old german man who seemed to be living there, and he invited me into his tent for pop (I believe it was ginger ale) and cookies (they were white, configured more or less like Oreos, with white crap in the middle). Old Gunther or Dieter or Wolfgang's accent was thick as a german sausage, and I couldn't understand more than the occasional word. But who cared...there was pop...and cookies. I smiled and nodded my head as I ate with my pretty pink mouth. Footsteps - my father's voice; it was time to go. The old man  put his hand high up on my leg, his fingers under the leg of my shorts, and leaned so close I could smell his rotting teeth: "Vait till your vater's asleep" he hissed. "I'll be vaiting for you here. Zere vill be more pop und cookies."

Now I know there are those of you who would have gone. I shall not speak your names. There are those of you would have gladly given the old man pleasure for half a bag of indifferent biscuits and a glass or three of sugar water. I was not one of those. I felt glum and unsettled, guilty and betrayed. Two nights later I was punished for my lack of charity. A puppy showed up on the beach, and I, half dog in those years, let it settle down inside my sleeping bag. In the middle of the night I woke to a novel sensation: a soft, hot tongue on my testicles and cock.

Now I know there are those of you who would have relaxed and let it happen. I shall not speak your names. But I was almost ill in the sand beside my head, and to this day I will not let puppies below my bedclothes.

WilberCuntLicker wrote:

to this day I will not let puppies below my bedclothes.

Then take your own jammies next time you get committed...

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