Hookup, Find Sex or Meet Someone Hot Now
Paul'S PlacE ❗ ⭕❗⭕ ❗⭕
These aggregation of stories,
lampoons and irreverent points of view...
occasionally make sense.
I hope you can share my smile.

Invite heR to that emptY chaiR. risK the blisS.
(* ©April 2018-21 October Paul P. )
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
Sexual Addiction...😮 A True Affliction... Or Just A Fake Ailment... 🤔
Posted:Jul 29, 2019 1:19 pm
Last Updated:Oct 29, 2019 1:01 pm
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Addictions ... they can ruin lives. So when *FrankeeZee confided in me and admitted he had a dependancy issue... I was concerned. When he told me he was addicted to sex and was going into rehab - I told him, to fuck off .

Now... before you start judging me, ya have to understand something. I rarely , believe FrankeeZee - regardless of what he says. He's fooled me or... just stretched the truth, so many times before. I mean... let's f.ace it - is sexual addiction , an actual ailment?

Heroin, alcohol... anti depressants - I get it! Addicted t.o the pursuit of orgasms , with the opposite sex? Highly questionable - in my opinion. I decided, t.o read up on it.

Turns o.ut, some psychologists agree with me. It IS , a fake addiction. More of an obsession than a dependancy. On the other hand... a fair n.umber of doctors - certify t.hat 'sex addiction', is a serious problem.

FrankeeZee went to a well known, beach resort, 'rehab camp' and remained there, for four weeks. He came back last Saturday. I picked him up at the airport and immediately, noticed a change. FrankeeZee was sooo calm; so relaxed. He was (I thought) , a changed man .

"Ya know Paul... I feel, like a changed man," he declared. "I'm grateful, I was able to get treatment."

"Good to have you back Frankee," I replied, while giving my buddy a strong hug.

We sat sat there in the airport lounge... drinking coffee and just catching up on things... the way friends would. FrankeeZee fiddled with his phone and pushed it towards me.

"Here Paul. This is a picture of the rehab people , w.ho were with me. Ya know what? We became ... r.eally really close," Frankee admitted, as he choked up.

I looked at Frankee's picture. It was a shot, of about, t.en o.f them, on the beach. FrankeeZee had his arms around the waist, of a woman. His monstrous hard-on , cast a large shadow, along his shorts... as he grinned, into the lens. I looked at FrankeeZee... and blinked.

"So... I guess... they kicked you outta camp, right Frankee?" I asked the question, but I already knew, the answer.

"Y.ep ... they kicked me o.ut Me... and that l.ady . Hey... I woulda made it. I woulda graduated. But that woman and I, ended up, being tied together ... in the t.hree legged races, on Family Day . Fucked things up... completely. And then... I had a relapse . Many relapses... a.ctually ," FrankeeZee replied, while smiling... sadly.

I sat there and shook my head. I had t.o admit... that the 'Rehab Lady' , in Frankee's picture, was h.ot! I imagine, it was like putting a bottle of scotch, next t.o an alcoholic. Let's f.ace it - unless an addict wants t.o change, do they have any hope, of rehabilitation? Any chance at all?

FrankeeZee's phone buzzed - incoming t.ext. I looked at the image on the screen - it was that , Rehab Lady .

FrankeeZee... had NO chance.

Do you think sex , can be an addiction?
What things (besides A F F) are you 'addicted'

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Ever Been... Wrapped Up In Your Thoughts... And Sat There... Naked 🤔
Posted:Jul 26, 2019 8:31 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2020 6:28 pm
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Have you ever been, wrapped up in your thoughts? Have you ever sat there (perhaps naked, like I was), in a favorite chair or one that's comfortable... and wondered; What if, things would be different, today?

I'm not talking about your regrets or about, second guessing yourself. I'm not talking about, beating yourself up, over some decision you made. I'm just talking about, different . Today!

Different house. Different car. Different friends. A different city or town and maybe even, different country? Perhaps a different or cat or... can I say - ? A different lover, wife or husband. I don't know. I'm not sure... exactly. You know what I mean?

I'm just talking, about different . Like asking her , if she'd... untie these ropes.

Ever have one of those days where... you just THINK too much?
🤔 😀
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Things Men Can Do...😊 That Women... Can Only Dream Of... 😮
Posted:Jul 22, 2019 12:27 pm
Last Updated:Jul 25, 2019 8:09 pm
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Do you recall a recent blog post (by superbjversion2), titled - 'Penis Envy'? I did... as I stood there, holding my dick. I thought hard; about women and the answer, to THAT, question. I wasn't positive, if all ladies envied, what I held. But, I had a feeling...

I was dining, at an Italian restaurant, in Montreal's east end. It was Sunday afternoon and (as things went along), I stepped into the men's room : it was, a fancy place. I could tell... as soon as I cozied up to the urinal and pulled out my little friend. Looking down (as men are apt to do), I noticed a mound of crushed ice (piled ), the bottom of that portal. THAT'S how we men, recognize - we're in a classy spot!

There's a certain... cool, freshness, about the whole event ; when ice is involved. Then of course, there are those little games, men can play; as we melt, tiny tunnels, or spell our names, into that frozen, slush. Yet... it was when I looked up, that I truly ... applauded, the style of that space. 

Above the urinal, was a wide screen TV . Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic, were playing in the Wimbledon Finals , tennis match. There I was, pissing into ice - watching tennis history, unfold.

Does it get, any better, than that ? (Picture me, with a sheepish grin.)

I had no idea, that the tennis match, would last, five hours . I was a little tired, standing there... at the end. The restaurant staff, refreshed the ice for me... twice. 

So.... would women, have enjoyed their time, in that bathroom? Do they have 'penis envy' - as Freud suggested? I don't know. More than likely, they just have - a very serious... craving ... for one!

But I betcha, everyone (here reading), wants one of those wide screen TVs and a bucket of ice in their home bathroom, right? 🤔 And perhaps, a mini fridge, in the corner... with a microwave oven - over by the wall. Oh and... throw in some mood lighting and a decent sound system... 😊

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A Fly On The Wall... Watching - Instant Karma... 😉
Posted:Jul 18, 2019 12:26 pm
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2020 4:30 pm
A fly on the wall... or... a 'Paul' on the curb? They both... see... and hear things. The fly, has wings. Paul (that's me)... waited... for the valet, to deliver his car.

Standing next to me, was a handsome, well dressed, young man. He nodded and smiled. We both waited, for our cars. I'd just stepped out of that 'Thai' restaurant, behind me. The meal was fabulously authentic, if you know what I mean. It was... salty and sweet... and sour and spicy. Really spicy! But I liked it like that.

An attractive young woman, draped in a fitted black dress, sauntered closer and joined our queue. She flashed a radiant smile and gave another valet, her ticket. He... scurried off.

That, young man (the one next to me), turned and spoke to that, young woman.

"Great meal, wasn't it? This place deserves its reputation... no?" he remarked.

She nodded her head. "I thought it was fantastic. I wish my boyfriend had felt the same. He didn't like it. I blew a wad of cash here - its his birthday. And he's in the bathroom, throwing up... half the bill," she replied while laughing. "He lied to me, about liking spicy food," she'd stopped laughing. A tear... propped itself, into a corner of one of her dark, smokey eyes.

Taken aback... by her honesty and vulnerability, the young man spoke again; "Don't feel bad. My girlfriend, is doing the EXACT, same thing. She's in the lady's room. She couldn't stand , this place. She never stopped complaining."

The young woman, wiped the tear from her eye and laughed nervously. "Really? I loved the meal. I made reservations, months ago. I had to save a few weeks. He told me, he wants to try different foods. No matter where we go... he fucking hates it."

"He sounds exactly , like my girlfriend. I can't take her anywhere," the young man replied. "Maybe... we should hook up... your guy and my girl ," he continued while laughing. "You should have heard what she told me, when I asked her to go sky diving with me..." and he laughed again.

The young woman perked up and spoke. "Sky diving? Are you serious? I'd love to go sky diving. I've been asking my boyfriend when WE can go. He told me; 'When Hell freezes over', " she shrugged her shoulders and smiled sadly.

And with that tiny shrug, the conversation ended. There were no 'goodbyes'. The valets had arrived. Their dates, stepped out of the restaurant and into, their respective cars.

I stood there and then watched something, completely unexpected.

That handsome young man -bumped - the car, of THAT beautiful young woman. It was a nudge, that was hardly worth noticing - but I did. So did, both drivers. He immediately, opened his door and began apologizing profusely. She, was already walking toward her rear bumper. The young man, promised to pay for any damage he had caused. There was none , to see.

I watched, as he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper and gave it to her. She touched his hand and took it from his fingers... and folded it, into her purse. I watched, as they smiled at each other. And then... they drove away.

I stood at the curb and realized what I'd just witnessed. Damn...! I'm not sure, if I would've had the imagination (or balls), to try THAT.

The valet spoke. "Sir. Sir...? Your car..."

I wondered... what it would be like, to be that fly on the wall... next time, those two meet.

How did YOU meet your ; wife, husband, lover, girlfriend, boyfriend, dentist... or dance instructor?

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Being A Famous A F F Celebrity Blogger...😎 Is Not Easy... It Is Hard... 🤔
Posted:Jul 15, 2019 10:44 am
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2020 4:51 pm
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Being a famous - A F F Celebrity Blogger - is not easy. I'm constantly being recognized and hounded for autographs and selfies... wherever I go. Take last weekend...

Now I'll admit... I don't really mind. I mean... if I can help motivate someone, to achieve their life goals, then so be it. As a role model (for some), I am always aware, of the standard I'm setting. My "dick pics" (for example) - are for Friends only! So... I sat there in the restaurant, taking tiny bites of food, wiping my mouth, quickly. I wasn't at all surprised, when THEY, approached me.

Their cell phone cameras were at the ready; paper and pens in hand. I put my knife and fork down, in anticipation of the inevitable gawking. I expected their gushing requests, for proof and confirmation - of their brush, with a. r.eal, live, superstar... and famous person . Then... to my complete surprise, they walked right by, MY table and trudged quickly, to the group seated behind me.

"What the fuck?"; were my first thoughts... until I turned around and realized who, was sitting behind me.

He was leaning on his elbows, a mouthful of grilled salmon sticking outta his mouth. Tartar sauce clung to the edges of his lips and his fingers were smeared with butter. It was Captain Kirk -William Shatner. 'Comic-Con' was in town at the Convention Center and he was there for the festivities.

Hmmm... I Waited until that silly cluster of people, had left Captain Kirk's table, before I turned back in my chair and asked him to sign my napkin.

Never presume! Life will always surprise you with the unexpected. I wore my sunglasses for the balance of my meal. I hoped no one, would recognize me. No one , did.

Are there any valid role models, out there... these days?

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I Was Relieved... 😊 When She Came... 😃
Posted:Jul 11, 2019 12:14 pm
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2019 11:51 am
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The incessant buzz , of an air conditioner and the uninterrupted rattle , of the Coke machine - had numbed my brain. A beep warned me, my phone, was slowly dying. I closed it. The charger, was in the trunk of my car. My car, was in the repair shop. The repair shop waiting room, was where I sat. I sat there ... alone .

I looked around. An assortment of magazines, were scattered about, on a table. I picked one up ( 'Popular Science' ) and randomly, turned to an article ; 'Electric Cars... The Future Is Coming'. It was written in "Alrighty... Let's try something else," I thought, as I picked up another.

'Time Magazine'... "Ahhh... they always, have stuff, that's interesting." I flipped to a piece titled ; 'Will Trump, Beat Hillary?'. Somehow... I already knew the answer, to that question. There was a dusty old phone book, on one of the shelves. I hadn't read a phone book in years, but I recalled the plot. I let it be. At that moment, she came ... into my waiting room and sat down. I was relieved... Someone to talk with... perhaps?

She was attractive... and smiled brightly at me. I smiled back and welcomed her, with an original question ;"Fixing your car?"

"Beklager. Jeg snakker ikke engelsk. Jeg er fra Norge," she replied while raising her hands and furrowing her eyebrows.

She didn't speak English. I don't speak, Norwegian.

I sat there, almost alone... and waited.

I counted... the fucking grimy, greasy, faded yellow... floor tiles. Five hundred and ninety four...

Where are your WORST places, to wait? 🤔

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Drake Played... 🎵At FrankeeZee's Pool Party...😎
Posted:Jul 9, 2019 12:14 pm
Last Updated:Nov 23, 2020 11:42 pm
Note : A F F is deleting words in the text. Please be patient.

The ice trays were empty. I peered into the freezer. "Frankee...! " I yelled. "You're outta ice?"

"Paul... why dont'cha get some," he yelled back, from down in the bowels, of the play room. "Order more pizza too." I barely heard him, above the din of Drake, singing - "God's Plan".

FrankeeZee, was throwing his summer pool party. It was five in the morning. Can you imagine the carnage?

Walking into the dining room (to search for my cell phone), I stopped in my tracks. "Hey Frankee!" I yelled again. "One of your goats, is eating the curtains. Someone, opened the pen again." No answer from Frankee. His three goats, maintained the lawn... in case you were wondering. My phone, must have been, in one of the bedrooms. I trudged upstairs and pushed the first door open.

There lay, Silvia and Doug; entwined... and sleeping - on the bed. They were supposedly , separated. I guess, they'd reconciled. No phone. I stepped into another room. No phone there either... although, I found a second goat. She ... looked up at me and continued, to munch the potato chips, spilled on the floor. I searched the other rooms, without success. Down... and outside, to the pool. I might have left my phone, by the barbeque.

Soft lights... shimmered, beneath the mirror calm, turquoise water. There were a pair, of white panties, resting at the bottom; Linda's... I think. Guests were sprawled, on deck chairs. Some were talking, others sleeping. Bill was passed out, floating in the deep end... on one of those big, inflatable swans. Still no phone. I shuffled back, into the living room. The doorbell rang. I opened the door - almost expecting, to greet the police.

Standing there, was FrankeeZee's neighbour, Steve. He was wearing his 'Golden State Warriors' pyjamas... and a sour look on his face.

"I found Frankee's fricken goat, eating my compost heap." He handed me the rope leash, with a goat attached.

"Thanks," I replied. "Hey Steve... would you happen to have any ice?"

"Sure. Come on over Paul. By the way... tell Frankee, to stop playing Drake, or I will go down there and break, his fucking stereo."

I nodded... knowingly. "Steve... How's your wife? I haven't seen anyone, throw up THAT much, since highschool. She OK?"

Steve grunted and turned, towards his house. I followed him, picked up the ice and walked back, into Frankee's home. And there it was - a pink phone... IN ... the kitchen sink. It wasn't mine , but it worked! I was just ending, the 'pizza call', when FrankeeZee walked in... carrying a chicken, under his arm.

"Wow! What a party Paul. And no cops this year... so far."

I looked at FrankeeZee and blinked. The chicken clucked. "Steve wants you to stop playing Drake. Oh... and where's Debra? I found, her phone."

"Steve's a sore looser," Frankee replied laughing. "Debra? She's sittin' next to the chicken coup, drinkin' a slushy and talkin', with my chickens."

Yep... Frankee knew, how to throw a bash.

FrankeeZee is having another party (later in the summer)... as soon as he repairs the damage from this one.

Do you recall, your last 'Epic' Party?

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Rear View Mirrors... Sex Toys 🥒... and Traffic Tips...😮
Posted:Jun 26, 2019 11:58 am
Last Updated:Oct 28, 2019 9:21 am
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I don't have anything, hanging from the rear view mirror, in my car. But SHE did.

I understand why men, dangle wedding garters; they caught a trophy. Cd's...? You've failed, at burning one. I've never had beads, necklaces or feathers - gracing my sight lines. I haven't thought of attaching a 'dream catcher' or a set of keys. My headphones, always have a resting place; rather than flopping, side to side, in front of my face. Religious pictures or symbols; no thanks! I DID... try that green Christmas tree, air freshener - once. It freshened for a while... until it didn't. So the other day, there I was... moored, in the morning mess, of the freeway frenzy. And... well...

You know, how you peer into the cars beside you, when you're bored? That's what I did. I was, surprised, by what I saw. Hanging from HER rear view mirror... was a dildo . It was bright pink. And it proudly bounced, up and down, to the rhythm, of the bumps in the road.

I wondered what she might have been thinking. Was it a joke? Perhaps it served as inspiration and motivation for her. Was it a cherished gift, from a close friend?

My eyes were drawn to that shlong and its brown haired owner. She was certainly attractive enough. I caught her eye and grinned. She smiled back. My window was lowered and so was hers. You know me, I'm the shy type. I pointed and spoke, as our cars lingered, at a dead stop. "You're not distracted, by the view?"

She laughed and replied; "Not at all. It brings me good luck."

Traffic nudged forward and began to merge into one lane. I motioned to her. She waved and scooted her car in front of me. "Ahhh..." then it dawned on me. "She uses IT, to get ahead in traffic jams. Smart move," I thought.

Tomorrow... I'm stopping in at the Sex Shop and picking myself up a - 'Fleshlight'. I'll hang it on my rear view mirror. We'll see, if THAT gets me through traffic, any quicker. Can't be worse than it is. Heck... if I get horny I can... uh... never mind.

I let another car, squeeze in front of me. She... was a cute red head. She waved. I sheepishly waved back.

So... Even if ya don't drive...
Ya think women have an advantage, when it comes to moving about - in traffic? 🤔

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Sex... Lies... And The Missing Chicken... 🐔🤔
Posted:Jun 24, 2019 1:22 pm
Last Updated:Jul 10, 2019 8:08 pm
Note : A F F is deleting words in the text. Please be patient.

I told my a small lie the other day. She texted me, and asked what I was up to. I didn't feel comfortable replying; "I'm on a 'world famous sex site', perving naked women." So instead... I told her; "I'm making chicken parmesan." Which was GOING to be true... soon enough. It reminded me of the times, adults in my tribe, had fibbed. Were they trying to protect me?

My grandparents emmigrated from Europe and tried to emulate their rural lifestyle, in urban Montreal. So of course... they bred rabbits, in a pen - in their backyard. Didn't everyone?

My brother and I were very young. We didn't understand, that whole 'sex thing'. Every month or so, we'd see new baby bunnies, hopping about, in that fenced in enclosure. We'd be told, that a friendly neighbour, had brought them as gifts. Come to think of it... it was kinda strange, to see that fat male bunny, always flopped, on top of the female bunny. She never seemed to mind.

We had (what I now realize, was), rabbit stew, quite often... at Granny's place. She would tell us, that it was chicken. What did WE know? It tasted like chicken. They soon got rid of the rabbit farm.
Grandma and Grandpa then diversified... into chickens.

I'll always remember that FIRST one. My granny brought home, a live chicken, from the market.
She put the 'poulet', under a clothes hamper and told my brother and me, that there was a chicken, in the basement. Well... can you imagine, our excitement, when we ran down those stairs, and actually saw, a live chicken? My grandfather asked us, if we wanted to pet that bird. What do you think we said? "Of course!" 

Twenty minutes later, my grandpa, was still chasing, that fricken chicken, around his work bench. My brother and I were laughing so hard, we could hardly supervise, the chase. He wasn't amused!

A few days later.... we no longer found, our pet chicken downstairs. When we asked grandma about 'Bob' (that was his name), she replied;

"The chicken escaped!" 

We were sad. With my four year old mind, I didn't think of asking; how he got out, or where he might have run to. There were two sets of doors to open and they lived, on a six lane boulevard. How did he turn the door handles? A better question, might have been - why did he cross the road?

That night, grandma served rabbit stew ; or so she said. That rabbit, tasted great. And surprisingly... a lot, like chicken.

To this day, I have no idea where.... that silly chicken went to. D'ja think it's still roamin' the streets of Montreal... somewhere?

Yep... little lies and tiny deceptions. All meant to protect young minds. I somehow doubt, today's have that same buffer. Or do they need one? I was pretty open about everything, with my . Except the thing about THAT sex site, last week.

She'll figure it out one day. Or not. Doesn't really matter, does it? Maybe SHE'S ... on one.

Sugar coated lies... did you tell them?
Ever notice, how many things taste like chicken?

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Throw Me a Party🎉... When I'm Dead and Gone 😄... I'll Bring The Music 🎶 🤗
Posted:Jun 21, 2019 10:56 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:04 pm
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Last Sunday, I spent the afternoon at the cemetery. It was a hot and balmy, June day. Fat, grey squirrels, scurried amongst the gravestones. A clear blue sky and a lush green vista... framed my view. The scent of apple blossoms and lilac, filled the air. I stood there... amongst the dead. It was quiet and peaceful. But I was there, for a purpose.

There is, a Christian Orthodox tradition, 'Trinity Sunday' (celebrated eight weeks after Easter, on the 'Julian Calender' ), where ALL the departed, are honored with a gravesite ceremony. It's presided by family and friends and a priest. The prayer and incense infused, 'Thurible' blessing is brief - but it brings people together.

When my grandmother was alive, we'd all go back to her home and have a simple meal. The adults would recall stories and share memories and drink shots of vodka. They'd spend time laughing and reminiscing. As a ... I'd just look forward, to eating Grandma's roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. Since my grandmother passed away, WE all just go, our separate ways... home. Kinda sad, when I think about it. But what I saw, as I drove through the cemetery... struck me. Some people - still get it RIGHT !

I was heading towards the Main Gates, when I passed a cluster of people, spread out by a gravestone. Blankets on the ground, marked a crawl way, for the tiny toddlers, too small to walk. The women sitting there, doled out bread and meats and cheeses and... filled up plastic glasses, with wine. Younger played round the monuments, chasing each other, giggling. The men stood by, telling stories, while they laughed and toasted in the air, with arms raised.

Ya know... I think that's the way, I'd like to be remembered. When I'm dead and gone, throw me a fucking PARTY... by my gravesite. Bring on the food and wine and vodka. Oh and... put the music up, FULL blast. It'll be tough, for me to hear the tunes!

Damn... I thought of something; "They better not play any fricken disco ." I'll start working, on that music mix. I wonder, what my first song would be?

Ya think you'd want, or deserve, a party in your honor, when you're gone?
What would be, your first tune? 🤔

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If Hotel Rooms... Could Share Your Secrets... What Would They Say... 😏
Posted:Jun 17, 2019 12:45 pm
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:08 pm
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Rented space...a party place or a lover's lair, an immoral tryst. Where beer and pizza stains and love's smears... can remain hidden. Only you'd know, where to find them; though you wouldn't care. No one does. A souvenir, forever buried... or perhaps not. Sometimes splayed, proudly on white cotton sheets... to prove, you both lay there.

You're alone... for a moment. A shower's stream, tumbling in the bathroom, gives proof - it's safe. Panties thrown on a chair. You lay down, press your nose, into the pillow... and nudge your senses, one more time. You close your eyes and fein surprise. Cologne meshed with perfume, a musky odour - pheromones... still linger. The remnants ( faint scent), can still arouse... and electrify a memory.

It's early and barely light. The room... is yours. Do what you might.

The mystery of a hotel or a motel room. What stories would it share?Or would you even be there?

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I Did Not Want... To Make Her Wet💧... Or Did I... 😊
Posted:Jun 13, 2019 12:28 pm
Last Updated:Jun 17, 2019 9:26 pm
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It was early, last Sunday morning. I made a left and turned my car, towards the marina. The previous night's rain, had left an inviting, six inch deep, mirrored pool of water. I considered the most obvious - 'irrational male option'. You know the one! That's where I gun the car and drive like an idiot. The one where I forge, an unrepentant hellbent path, down the middle of the street. The ten foot shower, that would be sprayed, on either side of my hurtling car, would make for an impressive show. If only there had been, anyone there - to watch. Then.... I saw her.

She was tall and fit and my kinda gal. She was walking her tiny dog - a fluffy white Shih Tzu . They hugged the very edge, of the only bits... of dry sidewalk remaining. Their heads were bowed as they tip toed carefully along. She was sharply dressed, in a short black skirt, white runners and a beige sweater that sparkled... with finely sewn glitter. I perched my arm, on the outside of my open window and slowed, to almost zero. I didn't want to make any waves.

She must have thought, that I had something to say. She took out the ear buds, from her phone, and stopped and looked at me. I hadn't planned on saying anything. I was watching the water, as it sloshed and splashed up my tires. But now, well... I felt compelled. I said the first dumb thing, that came to mind.

"I don't know who's cuter; you... or your dog."

She laughed. I continued.

"Does your husband usually let you walk your alone, this early? You never know what type of strange people, you'll run into."

She laughed again and spoke. "Oh... I'm not married. But I notice... YOU'RE wearing a ring. Perhaps you should be careful who YOU, speak with," she replied, smiling coyly.

I hesitated... just for a second. Was that an invitation?

"No... I'm not married either. Gold is my colour and it matches my watch. Look out for the water. I don't want to get you all wet," I waved... and slowly eased on... by.

Now THAT... was lame! I was kinda speechless. A rarity for me. I usually have a glib reply. She had a point, about the ring. I've worn that ring for all the years I was married and all the years, since I wasn't. I've worn it forever! It fits nice. I am used to it. It's gold and I feel odd without it. I am constantly nudging my thumb against it, playing with it... twirling it round and around. Do you know what I mean?

As I drove into the marina, I pulled off the ring and put it on my right hand. "There!" I thought. Simple enough. Looks fine and... on the right hand, it doesn't symbolize marriage. Does it? I steered my car into a spot and put it into 'Park'. Things... just didn't, feel right. My ring, was rubbing up against the shifter and my steering wheel... and everything. The short experiment, was over. The ring was going back, on my left hand.

Seven minutes later and that fucking ring, was still stuck, on my right hand. Yes... I eventually pried it, off my swollen finger. I pushed it back on my left hand... where it belonged.

Some things, are just meant to be. Some things just won't change... even, if they should. My ring looks fine, where it is. Heck... it even keeps the flies away... if I flash it.

What do you think?

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Do I Need... Whiter Teeth... To Get Fucked... Damn...😁
Posted:Jun 11, 2019 1:12 pm
Last Updated:Jun 19, 2019 7:47 am
Note : A F F is deleting words in the text. Please be patient.

Last Saturday... we sat there, amongst a couple of hundred other parents. WE chose, the right side of the auditorium. The side, without the fucking crying. Who... takes a baby... to a College Graduation? Or am I too harsh? Eventually .. they introduced the names, in HER class. I fumbled with my phone. "Don't fuck this up!", I thought to myself.

I didn't. It was such - a surprisingly, smooth ceremony. Eloquent... in fact and at moments, profound. The Director paused... and asked all the graduates, to place themselves, back into that moment, as they FIRST stepped, through the DOORS, of the College. He asked them, to recall their questions : " Can I ? Is it possible? Will I be able to?"

"Well... You HAVE !" he loudly pronounced, to rousing applause.

It all went well. And I almost teared up. My 'Ex' nudged me and smiled. I shared her pride! Oh... but then...I looked back at her and was momentarily distracted. ...

Damn... she looked old. Am I an asshole for saying that?

What happened to her blond hair? Why was she wearing a cotton table cloth and flats? Didn't she still own, a pair of classy heels and a tight fitting dress ? So many OTHERS there, did. I am, shallow... I guess... I presume I didn't look the same as she recalled me, last time we met

We took the pictures... and others... took pictures, for us.

My beaming (who had graduated), and who starts her career, as a Dental Hygenist... (one month from now) ... looked at the pics that were taken.

"Dad. I love you! But you need to seriously look after your teeth. Ya know... I can get you IN, without an appointment. Dad! Seriously!"

I love my and she loves me. Are my teeth, that bad? Do I need white teeth, in order to get laid?

I'm thinking... my personality, might be a partner, in THAT decision. My will advise me on that whitening procedure. She promised me!

What about you?

Note : A F F is deleting words in the text. Please be patient.
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