The Firemen
Dear Diary, for the last two days I have pondered on the pleasures of double penetration. Yes, one in the ass and on in my lovely quim. As you know, I have never had the honor of feeling two down there...I know what pleasure one brings me but two? Oh! How intimate a feeling it should be, and how vulnerable one must allow oneself to become, to allow such degradation to occur! And not just for I, but what of the two men privy to such debauchery? Being in such close promixty to each other must force one to examine one's sexuality further!
But for now, I shall leave such speculation aside, and close my eyes and pretend that I am at an event. A lovely event that finds me wearing a beautiful and richly coloured satin gown, perhaps a colour as wanton as ruby. It is winter and somewhere in the distance some sort of festive and celebratory music is playing. Yes, it's December, and drops of snow are falling to the ground and a fireplace is roaring and there are tables draped in white and dripping with holiday treats and sweets, springerlie, cavier and oysters and even an anise laced torte, and a variety of finger foods to satisfy the palate and delicately whet the appetite until something grander, much grander, comes along.
I am considering my next nibble when I feel a hand gently touch the small of my back. My head swings around to meet a boyish grin. In the winter soaked dreamscape I had virtually forgotten the existence of others which is quite a lapse indeed as I am always on the hunt for the next conquest.
May I? asks the very attractive gentleman as he gestures toward my empty flute.
Yes, absolutely. And who do I owe this pleasure to? I ask a bit coquettishly.
It is not a "who", it is a "what." And there are two of us, he replies.
I giggle. Two? Really? Boy and girl? Boy and boy? I look around. Father and son? I whisper.
There is a twinkle in his eye. My friend and I, he elaborates. We noticed you from afar as we were eyeing the - dessert - table. We thought it befitting that you were standing in front of it.
Ah, flattery! I tease. It will get you everywhere!
Will it? he asks, now intensely interested. Why don't you take my arm and come with me?
Locking elbows, he glides me across the floor to the other side of the room where a blond version of himself is standing by the Christmas tree.
But for now, I shall leave such speculation aside, and close my eyes and pretend that I am at an event. A lovely event that finds me wearing a beautiful and richly coloured satin gown, perhaps a colour as wanton as ruby. It is winter and somewhere in the distance some sort of festive and celebratory music is playing. Yes, it's December, and drops of snow are falling to the ground and a fireplace is roaring and there are tables draped in white and dripping with holiday treats and sweets, springerlie, cavier and oysters and even an anise laced torte, and a variety of finger foods to satisfy the palate and delicately whet the appetite until something grander, much grander, comes along.
I am considering my next nibble when I feel a hand gently touch the small of my back. My head swings around to meet a boyish grin. In the winter soaked dreamscape I had virtually forgotten the existence of others which is quite a lapse indeed as I am always on the hunt for the next conquest.
May I? asks the very attractive gentleman as he gestures toward my empty flute.
Yes, absolutely. And who do I owe this pleasure to? I ask a bit coquettishly.
It is not a "who", it is a "what." And there are two of us, he replies.
I giggle. Two? Really? Boy and girl? Boy and boy? I look around. Father and son? I whisper.
There is a twinkle in his eye. My friend and I, he elaborates. We noticed you from afar as we were eyeing the - dessert - table. We thought it befitting that you were standing in front of it.
Ah, flattery! I tease. It will get you everywhere!
Will it? he asks, now intensely interested. Why don't you take my arm and come with me?
Locking elbows, he glides me across the floor to the other side of the room where a blond version of himself is standing by the Christmas tree.
posted by ydiml at 7:48 PM
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