Ah, when you see the face that makes your blood race…


Firstly:  Forgive the paragraphs.  For some strange reason the space bar, html, wordpress, something isn’t giving in to me.  Secondly:  Enjoy the story here.  Please fuck these paragraphs.  They make me so frustrated that I also wouldn’t want it to get to you too. 😀

The title is exactly how I felt when I saw Mr. Stifler come into the gym Friday night in say a month.  I know I re-opened the possibility by sending him an email to come on over despite the short-circuit dates that took place between us.

I know I crushed his ego until I could see his blue eyes shriveled in murky awkwardness under my copious influence.  But the truth is:  I do like him and his feverish enthusiasm for life.  So why fuck up his flow?  Ah, because he didn’t eat my pussy on the third date.

He waltzed coolly through the gym doors and I didn’t realize it was him at first as I was distracted by other admirers by the welcome desk.  And then it sunk in like Michael Jackson’s ~ Remember The Time.  My mental Rolodex, that, yes, this, was, the guy, who I, was…His face.

Memories came flooding back at the moment of my hypersexual drama and just around the corner:  Ovulation weakness a.k.a when bad decisions take place.  If I could have fallen to my knees from the buckle of my every feeling between my lusty-thirsty body while calling out to him (or anyone for that matter)…I would, ya know, in my head.  Mostly.  😉

I told him numerous times on our dates,
“You know why I keep seeing you?”
“Why?”
“Because I like your face.”
“I like your face too.”
“I even like your face when I can see how evil you are when you smile.”
“You’re just as cold-hearted as me.”
“I am.  But it’s under different terms.”

So I’m thinking about starting things back up with him, even though on one end the mystery is gone.  (Yes, I mean this sexually.)  But not all, first being I still don’t know how he eats pussy.  Maybe he has quite a few more sexual tricks I’ve yet to experience because he does have some Moves Like Jagger especially with his fingers and skilled twisting motion.

He did almost make me cum (though I deny it).  But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.  (The usual.)  Still I know he believes deep down inside he’s a passionate lover.  But he isn’t.  He’s cold like his heart.  However I see the vast potential already.  We are sexual titans and with this, it seems silly not to give it another go.  After all I always do anything twice to make sure I’ve reached my final conclusion.

Besides, he has quite a few other traits that appeal to me like his specialty of countering everything a person says with some form of logic, fact, positivity or by revealing natures higher than fortune card.

And I never did mention how he memorizes poetry such as E. E. Cummings and Edgar Allan Poe and recites an entire poem over dinner.  I mean, what if there were..and can be more?.. Not a relationship.  Just companionship, benefits while getting to know one another angels and demons while creating more demons and angel memories?

I pulled the trigger tonight.

-Pennington

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