What the fuck? This petite, curvy brunette was walking past me: a tight red, almost crimson sweater, v-neck by the way, not overly big but perfect to play with size boobs, ultra tight black leggings and you absolutely could tell she was wearing a thong and of course the totally "flash" pirate boots.
Mmm, mmm, mmm....nice. That's what I thought and that's what I said. I didn't mean to say it out loud but that's the type of shit that happens to me on a regular basis so fuck it, it's out there now so all I can do is smile. Damn did she just give me the freakin' evil eye.
I don't really get this type of reaction. And it's not the first time I have encountered this either. I don't think I said anything mean or derogatory or hell, I don't know, like anything offensive in any way, so where's the problem?
She chose the outfit that so wonderfully accentuated her great boobs and even better ass. Her hair was done, the make-up just right and she carried herself with just the right amount of sexiness. She knows she is hot and wants to be gazed at yet I'm the douche-bag; okay. That game is cute for about a whole second. I guess I would just prefer some straight up honesty and a little confidence; I know I am fooling myself. Well if you have to play games you should play to win, right? Yeah, I had a shot. She kept heading down the hallway and I continued on my way to a colleagues office for another day of the same bullshit.
I have got Led Zeppelins' "Kashmir" playing, a joint in one hand and working on my lap top with the other. It's a nice way to wind up another chaos filled day. That and a good orgasm; that did help greatly! That brunette? She just left. And she was much more than hot, sweet sexiness, she was a woman of substance. I learned a valuable lesson about womens' reactions. The reason I received such a glare of loathing to my over zealous speech synapses firing from the spark of her hotness was because the real douche-bag, the guy she had dressed up for in the first fuckin' place hadn't said shit, but I gave the reaction she had hoped for. Yeah, it's like some twisted dyslexic way of reacting: she is mad at me for giving her the reaction that dude didn't. She also gave me what she had planned to give him. Seems to me it all worked out so I shouldn't fuck it up by trying to figure it out.
Alright I have to go, I have some guy online who is talking about having me come over and help him fuck his wife. I can't say this doesn't intrigue me, however, I really need to know some of the logistics of this situation, there could be some potential awkwardness. I can certainly say this: sometimes I just feel like one lucky bastard!
Until next time let's do our best to love one another and to those opposed: piss off,
Wills
