hot action

To get inspired to write this post, I indulged in a little hotaction aromatherapy.

That is, I lay on my back on my bed with a pair of panties draped over my face. Deep breath. One, two, three. Release.

Deep breath. One... two... three... release.

Repeat as many times as necessary.

This story is for you, panty-girl, because I think you'll like it:

I showed up at the party with a couple of friends. I'd persuaded them to come along with the promise that the place would be full of "chopless ticks." Sure enough, it proved to be one of those debauched North End parties.

People danced. Chopless ticks got drunk and ran around the room. Girls flashed their tits and made out with each other in the corners. God knows what else. Not exactly a Naked Loft Party but pretty good for Halifax.

My friends and I stood off to the side and watched the circus. My friends discussed the ladies, compared favourites. I didn't say much of anything. I just hung out there and looked around.

Then you walked by. You were this tall, glamourous vision of sexiness. I blurted out, "Oh my god, I love her" and totally ditched my friends to go over and say hello to you.

We talked for five or ten minutes. After which we made our way into the secret room. However, just when it looked like I was about to get you alone... Pretentious Guy showed up.

Pretentious Guy wanted to talk with us about art. There was a photograph on the wall that really seemed to pique his interest. "It's just so final. Don't you think."

For a while he got immersed in his socially oblivious art prattle. I think you and I just rolled our eyes at each other behind his back. Meanwhile I kept interrupting with art theory non-sequiturs: "Oh but it speaks so much, with such a depth of meaning."

Finally Pretentious Guy decided it was time to go mingle. As soon as he left the room, I threw myself against the door and locked it and then turned around and shoved you up against the wall.

And all that ensued was totally wicked.

Looking back, I'm grateful for Pretentious Guy's interruption. All those knowing glances made me so hot for you.

Sometimes people ask me how I know when the time is right to make the first move with a lady. I usually reply that you have to be aware of a wide range of non-verbal signals.

In your case, I think it might have had something to do with the fact that the whole time I was talking to you, all I could smell was pussy.