So I’m in the playroom at Elite - still soggy from scrubbing - perched precariously on the pedestal sink, admiring myself in the mirror (gosh, aren’t I handsome… 
), when out of nowhere I find myself flying backwards, landing abruptly on the table, and staring up at the most beautiful woman looking down at me. Over her shoulder, I also notice a black stringy outfit thing, hanging comically in mid air at the top of its jettisoned trajectory arc before starting its inevitable descent to the floor… but that’s only with the periphery. I’m quite occupied with the revelation that she is on top of me all nekkid. And with her beaming smile. And with her wide, beautiful blue eyes. And with this predatory, growling noise she’s making.
Yeah... that noise. I’ve heard that noise before. That noise usually comes when she has just seen someone she really likes. That noise means… oh God - where is the seatbelt? They make these things with seatbelts, right? Why can’t I find the seatbelt???
“Backrub?” she asks, despite the fact that she’s already foregone it. Followed immediately with “My turn” as she pulls my hesitant paws toward her (but, that’s not your back... ). End of pretence – time to tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle.
And, as is prone to happen, I find I am stubborn. Really stubborn. Nearly to the point of abusively so. And every time she moves, or turns to look at me, I fully expect a scowl… or tears… or a punch to the head. But it never comes (… yes, well, not intended as a pun, but nonetheless…). Just more smiles… bigger smiles… and MORE tickles! So. Much. FUN.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
But I’m old, fat, and feeble; and eventually I can’t take any more. So I find I’m back lying on the table, once again looking up into those beautiful blue eyes. I’m extremely grateful (she’s already spent more time with me than she should have), and profoundly happy. But, in something of a selfish, mini-tantrum... I decided I’m not going anywhere.
Ms. Kendra: “Your turn – in the shower, sweetie.”
Rabbit: “No. I’ll sleep for just a little bit – then we play some more.”
Ms. Kendra: “Sorry, hun – I’ve got another appointment.”
Rabbit: “No. He can see Ms. Mischa. She’s very pretty.”
Ms. Kendra: “Ummm… actually….”
Rabbit: “Oh… No. What? Both??? BASTARD.”
Ms. Kendra: “Shower.”
Rabbit: “No. MINE.”
Clearly, there was no time for my bullpoop today (it was all dedicated to tickling). So with a final “shower”, sweet Ms. Kendra reached down… grabbed my thingie at the top… and… and….
Pinched.
So now I’m sitting up on the table, backed in the corner but oddly spread eagled trying instinctively to push my way backwards through two walls. I’m confused (was I shot? She wouldn’t shoot me… would she?), and not responding very well to the situation. So I got pinched again.
And now I’m hanging from the ceiling tiles (I should probably offer to pay to fix them, but in a way it’s her damn fault, really), looking down at her flashing a mischievous little smile… “What the @#$% was THAT?”
Ms. Kendra: “I pinc…”
Rabbit (climbing down and moving his chastised tail towards the shower): “I know what you did, but...?”
Ms. Kendra: “It… well, you know when Lilith has an [happy time]?”
Rabbit: *sigh* “No.”
Ms. Kendra: “She gets very… kicky.”
Rabbit: “I bet that would be AWESOME….”
Ms. Kendra: “That’s what it’s like afterwards. Sensitive.”
Rabbit: “… [SheWhoMustNotBeNamed] is so DREAMY… “
Ms. Kendra: “Yeah, I like making her [have happy times]…”
And so now my little brain is flooded of images of coupling angels and “happy times”, and I instinctively start hopping with extended paws back towards Ms. Kendra, whereupon she gives me that mischievous look again while reaching for my thingie….
Session over.
So I find myself at the end of the hallway, staring vacantly at the floor, deeply caught up in thought. Plotting about how I can possibly get past receptionist again. Thinking about where I can get some of those big elastic bands (you know – like the ones they use on lobsters to make them more “sociable”) for when I do. But mostly thinking about how bloody AWESOME (and exceptionally nice to me) Ms. Kendra is.
And, for just a moment… I find I’m thinking about tying those shoes here together. In knots.
Happy Thumping, all!
), when out of nowhere I find myself flying backwards, landing abruptly on the table, and staring up at the most beautiful woman looking down at me. Over her shoulder, I also notice a black stringy outfit thing, hanging comically in mid air at the top of its jettisoned trajectory arc before starting its inevitable descent to the floor… but that’s only with the periphery. I’m quite occupied with the revelation that she is on top of me all nekkid. And with her beaming smile. And with her wide, beautiful blue eyes. And with this predatory, growling noise she’s making.Yeah... that noise. I’ve heard that noise before. That noise usually comes when she has just seen someone she really likes. That noise means… oh God - where is the seatbelt? They make these things with seatbelts, right? Why can’t I find the seatbelt???
“Backrub?” she asks, despite the fact that she’s already foregone it. Followed immediately with “My turn” as she pulls my hesitant paws toward her (but, that’s not your back...
). End of pretence – time to tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle. And tickle.And, as is prone to happen, I find I am stubborn. Really stubborn. Nearly to the point of abusively so. And every time she moves, or turns to look at me, I fully expect a scowl… or tears… or a punch to the head. But it never comes (… yes, well, not intended as a pun, but nonetheless…). Just more smiles… bigger smiles… and MORE tickles! So. Much. FUN.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
But I’m old, fat, and feeble; and eventually I can’t take any more. So I find I’m back lying on the table, once again looking up into those beautiful blue eyes. I’m extremely grateful (she’s already spent more time with me than she should have), and profoundly happy. But, in something of a selfish, mini-tantrum... I decided I’m not going anywhere.
Ms. Kendra: “Your turn – in the shower, sweetie.”
Rabbit: “No. I’ll sleep for just a little bit – then we play some more.”
Ms. Kendra: “Sorry, hun – I’ve got another appointment.”
Rabbit: “No. He can see Ms. Mischa. She’s very pretty.”
Ms. Kendra: “Ummm… actually….”
Rabbit: “Oh… No. What? Both??? BASTARD.”
Ms. Kendra: “Shower.”
Rabbit: “No. MINE.”
Clearly, there was no time for my bullpoop today (it was all dedicated to tickling). So with a final “shower”, sweet Ms. Kendra reached down… grabbed my thingie at the top… and… and….
Pinched.
So now I’m sitting up on the table, backed in the corner but oddly spread eagled trying instinctively to push my way backwards through two walls. I’m confused (was I shot? She wouldn’t shoot me… would she?), and not responding very well to the situation. So I got pinched again.
And now I’m hanging from the ceiling tiles (I should probably offer to pay to fix them, but in a way it’s her damn fault, really), looking down at her flashing a mischievous little smile… “What the @#$% was THAT?”
Ms. Kendra: “I pinc…”
Rabbit (climbing down and moving his chastised tail towards the shower): “I know what you did, but...?”
Ms. Kendra: “It… well, you know when Lilith has an [happy time]?”
Rabbit: *sigh* “No.”
Ms. Kendra: “She gets very… kicky.”
Rabbit: “I bet that would be AWESOME….”
Ms. Kendra: “That’s what it’s like afterwards. Sensitive.”
Rabbit: “… [SheWhoMustNotBeNamed] is so DREAMY… “
Ms. Kendra: “Yeah, I like making her [have happy times]…”
And so now my little brain is flooded of images of coupling angels and “happy times”, and I instinctively start hopping with extended paws back towards Ms. Kendra, whereupon she gives me that mischievous look again while reaching for my thingie….
Session over.
So I find myself at the end of the hallway, staring vacantly at the floor, deeply caught up in thought. Plotting about how I can possibly get past receptionist again. Thinking about where I can get some of those big elastic bands (you know – like the ones they use on lobsters to make them more “sociable”) for when I do. But mostly thinking about how bloody AWESOME (and exceptionally nice to me) Ms. Kendra is.
And, for just a moment… I find I’m thinking about tying those shoes here together. In knots.
Happy Thumping, all!
