I stopped by to chat, because how many times would that ever happen to me, getting to talk to the late-night TV carpet commercial lady, and we were just talking along and talking along and she starts telling me she's divorcing her husband, because neither one of them was really happy anymore, and maybe I missed something but that sure seemed to me to come out of the blue, me being basically a stranger and all.
So I said something like sorry about that, then she said that was all right, because it turned out, she said, masturbation feels a lot better than he ever did anyway, and I'm watching her mouth move, and I know she's the one saying the words, but right then I'm noticing her lips look wide and really colorful like a duck's bill against her pale, pale face, and I'm wondering if that's why her husband left, because he couldn't stand to look at her once he'd maybe looked down at her one time when he was up on top of her and he noticed that part about her lips looking like a duck's bill. You have to admit, that would be a hard one to get over.
And when she smiled, that made it even worse.
Still, choosy I'm not, and she pretty well had me at that masturbation line because a chick like that, a chick that would toss out a line like that to a stranger, is a hard find in this city; so I put my prejudices aside and suggested we break bread together. She was the kind to take what she could get, that was obvious, and while she kept her distance at first, soon she was eating out of my hand, which felt good and I liked it. We went back to her place that night, let nature take it's course, and I soon forgot about her duck face; and it was when I was there, my trousers around my ankles and my pumps primed, that all hell broke loose, as all hell will do given half a chance. And that's when it hit me--it wasn't carpets she advertised on TV, it was AFLAC.
And I'm not allowed in the park anymore.
Opening: Robin.....Continuation: ril