…k-k-k-kumming to k-k-k-kill me!
For those who caught the obscure (fishy) reference, you might be thinking that it’s because I am reduced to stuttering now… and you’d be right. And don’t get me started about the shaking (for the whole session, every time I went to touch her, I’d start trembling like a tweaked-out, naked Chihuahua in a blizzard).
Or, alternately, you might be thinking that I was referring to a silly twit who “gets his” from the business end of a steamroller. And, aside from the fact that I (somehow?) survived, that would seem to fit as well.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Mostly, I think I was informing you all that Ms. Kendra is probably searching for a suitable “professional” to eliminate a certain problem that she seems to have. Specifically - vermin. ‘Cause… I shudder to say… I did it to her again today. (Don’t be dirty… that’s not what I meant).
Ms. Kendra was spectacular - as always – and after she finished her “task at hand”, so to speak, I just kinda collected on the table in what could best be described as a shimmering rabbit pool. Only by this time, in addition to the euphoria, I find I’m so ashamed of what I did… of what I had HER do… I couldn’t even manage to look her in the eyes (yet somehow I still know she was radiant as she flawlessly hid her loathing). Oh sure, there were still lingering stares at her bottom – but not in her eyes… way too much guilt for that.
Ms. Kendra tried to “help” (console?) me… she even offered to try some “fantasies” (a moment where you could actually hear my brain “pop”)… but how the heck would that “help” when we pretty much went through the whole checklist (and went back for seconds on a couple)???
I adore Ms. Kendra - she's a very sweet, kind, sexy young lady. But I’m really starting to worry I’m going to “lose” her if I don’t get my pellets together, quickly. Not that I think I “have” her or anything… oh, you know what I’m trying to say.
Happy thumping, all!
(…and if the contracted “professional” is reading this, please have mercy - make it quick, and if at all possible, not in the face…)
For those who caught the obscure (fishy) reference, you might be thinking that it’s because I am reduced to stuttering now… and you’d be right. And don’t get me started about the shaking (for the whole session, every time I went to touch her, I’d start trembling like a tweaked-out, naked Chihuahua in a blizzard).
Or, alternately, you might be thinking that I was referring to a silly twit who “gets his” from the business end of a steamroller. And, aside from the fact that I (somehow?) survived, that would seem to fit as well.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Mostly, I think I was informing you all that Ms. Kendra is probably searching for a suitable “professional” to eliminate a certain problem that she seems to have. Specifically - vermin. ‘Cause… I shudder to say… I did it to her again today. (Don’t be dirty… that’s not what I meant).
Ms. Kendra was spectacular - as always – and after she finished her “task at hand”, so to speak, I just kinda collected on the table in what could best be described as a shimmering rabbit pool. Only by this time, in addition to the euphoria, I find I’m so ashamed of what I did… of what I had HER do… I couldn’t even manage to look her in the eyes (yet somehow I still know she was radiant as she flawlessly hid her loathing). Oh sure, there were still lingering stares at her bottom – but not in her eyes… way too much guilt for that.
Ms. Kendra tried to “help” (console?) me… she even offered to try some “fantasies” (a moment where you could actually hear my brain “pop”)… but how the heck would that “help” when we pretty much went through the whole checklist (and went back for seconds on a couple)???
I adore Ms. Kendra - she's a very sweet, kind, sexy young lady. But I’m really starting to worry I’m going to “lose” her if I don’t get my pellets together, quickly. Not that I think I “have” her or anything… oh, you know what I’m trying to say.
Happy thumping, all!
(…and if the contracted “professional” is reading this, please have mercy - make it quick, and if at all possible, not in the face…)
