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.

Once in a while it's nice to sit down.
(* ©April 2018-21 December Paul P. )
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
Only One In Ten Can Read This... 📖
Posted:Jan 22, 2019 12:52 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:34 pm
¡pǝɹoq ʇsnɾ ˙˙˙ɯɐ I ˙ǝɯ dɐls ʇ,uop ˙ɟlǝsʎɯ ƃuᴉsnɯɐ puɐ ˙˙ʇsoԀ ƃolq 'uʍop ǝpᴉsdn uɐ ƃuᴉʇsod ɯɐ I ˙˙˙oS ¡dlǝɥ ou ;pǝᴉɹʇ ʇsnɾ I ¿ʇᴉ sǝop -ʎɐʍɐ ʇᴉ ǝsɐɥɔ sʎɐʍlɐ ʇ,usǝop 'ƃuᴉʇɐqɹnʇsɐɯ ˙˙˙llǝM ¿op oʇ ʇɐɥM

¿ʎlʇuǝɔǝɹ sʍǝu ǝɥʇ pǝɥɔʇɐʍ noʎ ǝʌɐɥ ˙˙˙ʎǝH ˙ɥʇᴉʍ ʎɐld oʇ uɹod ʇɔǝɟɹǝd ʇɐɥʇ - uʍop lᴉɐu oʇ 'ǝlƃƃnɹʇs puɐ ʇǝu ǝɥʇ ɟɹns I sɐ 'ǝɯ ǝlpɐɹɔ llᴉʍ ʇᴉ 'ʎllɐuoᴉsɐɔɔO ˙ǝʌɐʍoɹɔᴉɯ ǝɥʇ uᴉ 'sʇɐǝɥ ʇᴉ ˙˙˙sǝʇnuᴉɯ ɹnoɟ ˙˙˙ƃuᴉzᴉuoƃɐ ǝsoɥʇ puɐ ɹǝuuᴉp ƃuᴉʇɐǝ uǝǝʍʇǝq 'dn ǝɯ ʞool ʇɥƃᴉɯ ʇI ˙ɔᴉɟɟɐɹʇ uᴉ ʞɔnʇs ɯ,I ǝlᴉɥʍ 'suǝddɐɥ ʇI ˙ʇǝɯ ʇsnɾ ǝʌ,I 'uosɹǝd ɐ ɥʇᴉʍ uoᴉʇɐsɹǝʌuoɔ ɐ ƃuᴉɹnp ǝq plnoɔ ʇI ˙ʎlɯopuɐɹ ˙˙˙ǝɯ oʇ ʇno sǝɥɔɐǝɹ ʇI

˙ʎʇᴉlᴉqɐʇɔᴉpǝɹdun pᴉdǝʇ ɥʇᴉʍ 'pɐǝɥ s,ʇᴉ sɹɐǝɹ - pɹɐllnp 'uɹoqllᴉʇs 'ƃuᴉsᴉɯoɹdɯoɔun 'ʎlƃn ʇɐɥʇ ˙˙˙ ɯopǝɹoq

¿ɯopǝɹoq uɐɥʇ ˙˙ǝsɹoʍ ƃuᴉɥʇʎuɐ ǝɹǝɥʇ sᴉ - uᴉɐd lɐᴉɔuɐuᴉɟ ɹo lɐuoᴉʇoɯǝ ɹo lɐɔᴉsʎɥd ɹǝʇɟ∀ ˙pǝɹoq ʇǝƃ ll,I ˙˙˙ǝlᴉɥʍ ɐ uᴉ ǝɔuo 'ǝɯ oʇ suǝddɐɥ ʇI

What bores you?
What do YOU do, to chase boredom away ?

Stand upside down... flip your phone or computer...

The right side up version ... is posted in the COMMENTS section.

This is a picture of Houdini, the great magician, hanging upside down, over Broadway, in New York, in the mid 1920's. .. .
. .
She Liked Them Hard...
Posted:Jan 17, 2019 9:26 am
Last Updated:Jan 25, 2020 10:46 am
Last Friday, the weather was less than ideal. Sleet and snow, blustered in steady gusts... and sheets... of stinging white pellets,... blinded my vision - as I slowly, pulled into the empty, parking lot. Locking up my car, I trudged a few feet, through the slush, and stepped through the sliding doors, into the vacant, grocery emporium. Music echoed, accross the monstrous ceiling and along the wide and vast, alleys of food. I was, the only person in the store... except for her.

She stood, by the avocados and turned around. We both looked at each other, in mild shock, finding someone else, stupid enough to venture out - in such weather. I smiled at her and playfully waved.

"It seems, we have this place to ourselves."

"It would seem that way..." she replied, laughing.

I walked up to the avocados, and paused. Her steel blue eyes, twinkled as they reflected, the bright, white lights, from overhead. I looked at her, and spoke...

"I can never tell, which ones I.m supposed to buy. The hard ones, or the soft ones."

"I like them hard, but that depends. Do you plan on eating one today, or later on this week? This one... is ready to be eaten now. Here... feel it."

She held a perfect avocado, and extended it to me. My fingers, glanced off her warm hand, and soft skin and I squeezed it - the avocado, I mean.

"What about the hard ones? What about this one? " I asked, as I quickly moved my arm and extended my sample to her. As I did, a tiny gust of air, carried my faint essence (the cologne, from my wrist), along a plain - directly into her path. Her nostrils flared. I knew, right away... that she had sensed me.

Her eyes darted, from the green fruit in my hand, then up, and into my gaze... for a second.

"The hard ones, uhh.. they take a few days to ripen," she replied. Her fingers touched mine, as she squeezed the fruit. "This one, will take... at least a couple of days."

I placed the avocado, back into the pile. "You seem to know a lot about these guys. I should take you shopping with me. Do you know as much about other fruits as well?"

"Not... really... I guess.... Nobody's asked for my help... before. But, hey... fruit is easy to understand, " and her white teeth flashed, from between a wide smile. "What other fruit, are you confused about?" she laughed.

It was now, my turn, to hesitate. A silent connection had been made. Neurons had been triggered. A chain of electrons had been set in motion, and none of them cared the least - about fruit.

We smiled and I picked some bananas. Then... we shared some laughs, while groping fresh bread. By the time we'd reached the meats, I knew her name and she knew mine. She also knew, I was accumulating the ingredients for a lasagna dish, I was going to cook.

"You're using Italian sausages?" she asked.

"I push them out of the casings and add them to the minced beef. Perfect spices, and flavor... without a lot of effort."

She nodded, as if she approved. And so, we followed each other around. Eventually, I found an excuse to grasp her waist, when she stood in the way, of my cans of diced tomatoes. At the cheese fridge, her hand managed to slip down the door handle, and touched mine, as she passed me the cheddar. It was funny... the game, we were playing.

At the wines... I paused and looked into her eyes. Those dark, grey pools, had me captured... as I spoke.

"What type of wine would you like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I.m making enough lasagna for an army... it's Saturday tomorrow and you look hungry. Let me feed you. How about a nice Merlot?"

"... and a Bourgogne?" She smiled, as she leaned towards me, with her selection.

"It's the first time in my life, I've picked up a man, in the wine department," she declared... smiling smugly.

"You didn't pick me up. I picked you up, back in the avocado section."

She laughed, poked me in the arm, and pulled me off balance towards her. I reached forward, and caught myself, against her shoulder.

It's then... we kissed for the first time. It was a quick kiss. A brief peck on her silky, soft lips. It was just a kiss. Yet... it held a hidden promise, of so much more. No one else, was there to share it with us... except for the overhead security cameras... and that was fine, by me.

"Oh no... Wait a minute. I can't go with you. It's my weekend with the . I have to pick them up, in an hour," she declared, rather sadly. Then... her face lit up again. "Hey... I've got an idea. Since you're making so much lasagna, maybe I can bring the over, and we can all eat together. What do you think?"

"I think, I.m having canned soup tonight. It's too late, to start baking a lasagna dish. And hey... Look at that weather."

It had turned out to be... just another Friday night, at the grocery store. And yes - I.m ... an asshole... sometimes. But at least, I.m not a liar. I DID make the soup.

Is it easier to meet people in the real world, or here in the internet world?
Do you ever eat healthy veggies and fruit- stuff, like avocados?

*Note : If you wonder about the punctuation and visuals of some words - like ' I.m ' - it's due to the fact that A F F, likes to delete those words, from the text. Yep... quite, fucking annoying.. 😊. .
. .
Large Coffee ☕ and A Vibrator... Please
Posted:Jan 15, 2019 1:44 am
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2020 10:24 pm
I hadn't seen FrankeeZee (my buddy from that other sex site- ™FOGCAF ), since before the holidays. When he texted me with an invitation, to join him for lunch, at Mickey Dee's - I texted him right back.

'R we going to get a seat? It's lunch time on a school day.' 

'No worries. I made a reservation.' , was his reply.

"Reservation - at a Mickey Dee's ? How's that possible?" I thought. But... then again, I was headed to a part of town, that I wasn't familiar with. Good thinking, on Frankee's part though. By the time I got there, it was prime time. The from the high school next door, had jammed the place. The clatter and chatter and laughter of young voices, filled the whole space. There weren't any free seats. Yet there sat FrankeeZee - at a table, right by the ' area, next to a cluster of MILF's, who were eagerly checking their phones. FrankeeZee, was checking them out... above the edge, of a book he held.

"Hey Frankee. How's it going? Good to see you."

"Hey Paul. Glad you could make it. I ordered my usual. They're going to c.all my n.umber. What are you having? It's my treat..."

"Hmmm... Not really hungry. I've already had my lunch. I might have a coffee later. So... whatcha been up to?"

FrankeeZee had his laptop with him (as he usually did), so he was probably working on his latest blog.

" just working on my latest blog, Paul. Kind of a... summary piece, on what I did over the holidays. Wanna read what I have so far?" and he slid his laptop over to my side of the table.

I unbuttoned my coat and began to read. It was the typical sort of stuff... visiting family and friends. I was surprised to read, that FrankeeZee, had made a New Year's Resolution. It read - 'When I babysit for my brother's , I promise NOT to get hammered, until AFTER the fall asleep.' -  "Hmmm ... a worthy resolution ," I thought. Eventually, I stopped reading, at an unfinished sentence... "So you went to your cousin's place for New Year's. What happened there ?"

"Oh yeah... that was cool. So my cousin Tony, had a gang of people over, right? After dinner, he pulls out the karaoke machine, and calls his little 6 year downstairs... to show off her singing - you know?  My cousin's always showing off his , right?  Anyway... tiny Francesca, comes down the stairs, dressed up, in her cute , red dress. Then the music starts and she grabs the mic, and starts screaming her lungs out ... to this song by Megadeth . My cousin and his wife, were real proud. Nona almost had a heart attack. The guests, were in total shock.  I was impressed...  I mean, when a 6 year , can screech out the lyrics -  "There's only blackness. The end is coming. All my friends are dead." - Hey... 'nuff said, right? The fucking nailed it ! 

I looked at FrankeeZee and nodded my head. "It wasn't a Megadeth song . It was - Lil Uzi Vert ,  who played THAT tune," I thought to myself. "So what else is new Frankee?"

"Well, our sex site is giving away those new RV's, so I.m gonna give it a try. It's the latest thing in sex site technology. You guys must have it... right ?"

"I have no idea, what you're talking about Frankee. You're not talking about a motor home, are you? What's an RV ?"

"It's a Remote Vibrator. It's activated through a phone app, via blue tooth, no matter where you are on the planet. Works 24/7. You wear it, strapped to your private parts ... then when someone pervs you, or looks at your profile pics and other stuff - it vibrates your dick or pussy. Supposedly... if the other person is watching one of your videos - you can get an orgasm, at the same time they have one! It's really cool. Anyway... it's free and with the shipping, it's only $24.99 . Don't you guys have that?"

I shook my head. "No. We don't have that, Frankee. We have blog wars though," I replied... rubbing my temple.

"Really ? Oooo... That reminds me. The website, started paying me for my blogs now. Can you believe it? I mean... the top 200 bloggers, get 100 points, for every new blog posted. And... you can redeem them for prizes. Is that cool? I have to post 5 blogs per day, just to keep up with the top bloggers. That means, I.m getting 500 points each day, and I get another 10 points for each comment, that I make. I.m leaving 100 comments each day, so... I.m making an easy - 1,500 points every day. Is that crazy... or what?"

"Really? You're getting 100 points per blog, and 10 points per comment? Wow ! That's a heck of a lotta time and energy, you've gotta spend on that stuff, each day... no ? What kind of prizes, can you redeem your points for? Does it p.ay for your membership?" I asked, rather intrigued.

"No... no... no... You can only, use it for the prizes. What type of prizes? Hang on a second. I'll check." FrankeeZee pulled his laptop open and scoured the home page of his sex site. "Oh... here it is... Yep... Ok then... Here's one... 400,000 points, gets you a Mickey Dee coupon, for a large coffee."

"So... let me get this straight. At the rate you're earning points, it's going take you 8 1/2 months, to earn enough points, for a large coffee, at Mickey Dee's? Are you kidding me ? That's fucked up Frankee!"

"Nah... Your math is wrong Paul."

I showed FrankeeZee my phone calculator. He looked back at me.

"At least I.m getting paid. What are you getting? Blog Wars... ! " and he crossed his arms indignantly. "And... I.m having fun... How much fun are you having Paul?"

He had a point... about being paid, that is.

Over the loudspeaker, we heard the n.umber '1049' being called. That was FrankeeZee's ticket. He went up to the counter, to pick up his Happy Meal. I wondered which toy, he'd come back with.

What do you do with your A F F points ?
Why do you bother to blog or not to blog?

If one of those Remote Vibrators was offered on THIS site - would you try it out ?
I have a feeling , more women would try it , than men. Just a guess. I.m not sure if I would. Not for $24 ... I don't think enough people perv me, to make it worth while. ... lol...

*NOTE: I am getting some rather irate emails, about this promotional offer. Please refer to the website, where FrankeeZee, lists his membership. I have nothing to do, with this offer. Nor can I provide you, with a link to the site. Thanks!

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends Of Good Clean Adulterous Fun. .
. .
The Mall... . The MILF... . And A Song... . 🎵
Posted:Dec 20, 2018 1:10 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:35 pm
Over 2 billion people on planet Earth celebrate Christmas. However - over 5.7 billion don't. Ever wonder what you can do if you DON'T celebrate Christmas? FrankeeZee and I decided to do some research into the question.

Yesterday, we went to the mall... again. Actually, FrankeeZee was doing the research - I was just along for the ride. If you'll recall, FrankeeZee is my blogger buddy, from that other sex site,
™FOGCAF. On this occasion, even as we sat not far, from the 'real ' Santa Claus (amongst the MILF's and their ) - FrankeeZee's head, was buried in his laptop... as he typed.

"Paul... what's another word for 'explain'?" He paused and looked at me... "OK, ok. . . never mind - it's elucidate ... "

I sat there eating my mint, chocolate chip ice cream, watching the shoppers go by, listening to Paul McCartney singing, 'Wonderful Christmas' - for the one hundredth time... so far this week.

"Paul... what's another word for 'shrewd', or 'astute'?" He looked at me and waited. "Oh yeah... got it - the word is perspicacious, " and he leaned his head, once again, into his laptop.

Mariah Carey began singing - 'O Holy Night' . I licked my cone.

"Paul... what's another word for - 'confuse'? Or... you know , when you 'obscure' the meaning of something?" Dead silence, was my response. "Ughh... oh... the word is - obfuscate. You know - you're no fucking help at all Paul. Don't you fucking read? Or do you just read your own fucking blog? You should read a fucking book, once in a while. It would improve your fucking vocabulary."

"Hey Frankee... you think any of your blog readers are going to understand any of those words you're using in your blog? I mean, seriously... they're there for sex, not for a vocabulary lesson.

FrankeeZee stopped typing and raised his head.

"Are you kidding me Paul? Some of the most educated and intelligent people on the planet, frequent sex sites. It's a fact ! CNN or somebody, did a report on it last year. You'd be surprised. All these intelligent people are looking to get laid... but when it comes to blogs - they want someone to stimulate their minds, as well."

I looked at him and blinked.

"Hey Paul... what's another word for 'idiot'... ?"

"I'm sitting next to one," I replied. But FrankeeZee was not deterred and typed away.

"The word was cretin... Paul. The rough draft is done. Now... all I need to do, is to edit," and he closed his laptop.

"So... What conclusions did you come up with Frankee? What do people who don't celebrate Christmas, do on Christmas day ?"

"Oh... fuck that. I don't know. I guess they go to Chinese restaurants, or they go to the movies or they sit at home masturbating and watching NetFlix. That was a boring topic. I changed my blog theme to, Sex With Your Neighbours - The True Holiday Spirit."

"And you used all those words in your blog? I'd like to read your blog Frankee," I looked at him and blinked again. Bruce Springsteen was singing 'Santa Claus Is Coming To Town'. I shivered... and closed my eyes.

"You know Paul... If you didn't spend so much time watching television and wasting your life on that sex site of yours, and more time reading - you'd be a more interesting person and maybe... you'd even get laid?"

I had finished my ice cream. Justin Bieber was singing - 'Mistletoe'... I'd had enough. It was time to leave. I rose from the bench.

"Frankee ... let's go. I've had enough of this place."

And then... just as suddenly... I decided to stay. They had just started to play - Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas'. Ahhh... This is what Christmas music is all about. This, is what the Christmas spirit, is all about, " I thought to myself.

At that moment, FrankeeZee poked me in the ribs. "Paul... take a look at that MILF over there. Is she hot, or what ? Would you do her?"

What are your LEAST, or MOST favorite - Christmas songs ?
Did you learn any new words here today, or did you already know them, from reading or watching TV?

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun .. .
............................................. .
. .
The Price Tag Barbie... With The Auburn Hair
Posted:Dec 18, 2018 1:06 am
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2019 2:18 pm
Many y.ears ago, when I was a young man... I met a young woman...

She was a price-tag Barbie, with painted-on jeans and those fuck me, charcoal eyes. I was never sure... if they were half-open, or half-closed. I guess, it depended on the time of day. Auburn hair, brushed her waist... and her tall, confident stride - always turned heads. She would have been a candle, in someone's eye... but not mine. I wanted nothing to do with her.

She slowly, sauntered up to me - through the dark... and across the light. I leaned up against my car and watched... as she stirred that quiet parking lot, with her shadow. The fine gravel, under her black leather boots, crunched to a rhythm of a song... with a title... that I couldn't remember.

"Hi Paul . . . gotta light ?"

"I don't smoke... You know I don't."

"Oh... yeah... I remember."

If I could, I would have rewound space and paused at the good times - a couple of y.ears ago... when I was 23. Those memories... had long faded, and the only ones left, were all sour and grey. She'd been drinking, or smoking... or both. Her glassy eyes, were large... black... pools.

"I thought, it was you inside. I haven't seen you in what... 2 or 3 y.ears? Are you, uhh... in town for the... holidays? When dja' get in? Mike would prob'ly wanna see you. Did you see him in the bar tonight?"

So many questions in a row, I didn't know which one to answer first. It didn't matter. She didn't really care, about my answers anyway. "Yeah. I saw Mike. I said hi to both of you. You don't recall?"

"Oh yeah... yes... I do. Sure... You were talking to the drummer, Pete... uhhh... or Steve... I don't remember his name. So how long are you here for? How are your parents? How's your brother doing? I haven't seen you in so long. You're looking good Paul... yeah..."

And her voice trailed off, as she lowered her gaze, and reached into her jeans... for a lighter - I presumed. Then a voice I recognized, yelled from across the parking lot. It was Mike.

"Hey... Paul... Tell that girl you're with, we're going home. Unless she wants to go home with you?" he laughed.

She turned around to Mike and waved, then looked back at me.

"It was good to see you Paul. It was really, good to see you. You think... we'll run into each other again? We're coming back here tomorrow night. You know... Mike's doin' the sound for the band. I saw your band, is playing over at the Coliseum in Syracuse next week? Maybe Mike and I can make it for that. I'll speak with him... yeah... so anyway..."

"Hey, ...! Are ya coming , or what ?" Mike's voice echoed across the lot.

"I gotta run Paul. It was good to see you. Merry Christmas."

She leaned over to me and gave me a hug. A tight one. I could smell her perfume, and the liquor on her breath. Then she turned her head and kissed me on the cheek. I felt her warm tears, as they dripped, off her cheek and onto mine. She pressed her lips, to my ear and whispered...

"I love you Paul. I always will..."

Then with a shove, she pushed against my shoulders, steadied herself and turned to walk away. As she did, she wiped her glistening eyes, with her hand.

She would always cry and get emotional, when she'd been drinking. She'd always tell me that she loved me... when she was drunk. I watched as she walked back, across the parking lot... and into the shadows... again.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered back...

© December 2018 Paul P.
What is it about 'bad boys' and 'bad girls' that attracts us to them? Or is it just me?
Do you like going to bars or small clubs where live bands ?

Yeah . . . 'Bad' boys and girls have a tendency to get under your skin. Or at least the 'bad' girls , had a way of getting under mine... I guess I was weak.
Give me a live band in a small bar - any time. Something intimate and really enjoyable about watching a band where they are so close you can hear the of the sound of the snare drum without the for the mic. And the guys on stage are talking amongst themselves , between songs.
. .

.. .
Spiders and Stairs... Pussies and Bears
Posted:Dec 14, 2018 12:46 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2020 5:58 pm
It was a slightly...  less than normal Friday. I'd beaten the traffic. I called Lorraine into my office. Her strut, always twisted my head - just a bit.

"Can you get Larry, Michelle, Darren...  and Brett together... for a quick meeting? Ask them to be here at 9:00 ish ... ok?"

She smiled and strode away. I watched, as her butt quivered it's way back to her desk. The gang had soon assembled and I began...

"All right, so I.m going to look at some properties for that new, customer service area, this afternoon and I want you guys with me. I n.eed as much help, as I can get. We h.ave to make a decision, in a hurry. We'll start off at that warehouse - down by the port and...."

Darren, waved his hand up at me.

"Uh . . . I don't think I'll be much help. I umm... I have Arachnophobia, and it's pretty serious. That warehouse is sure to have plenty of spiders in there. No way... I can't step inside. No way!"

"Darren...  Are you kidding me? Are you joking?"

"No... no Paul. I... I've been getting treatment for it. But it's serious."

"OK... then, you can wait in the car. We'll be going to another place with no spiders. I've made an appointment, to see that ..." and I was interrupted by Brett, who motioned to me.

"Paul... I've gotta question... We're taking the subway - right ? I can't ride in a car."

"What? What are you talking about? Of course we are. We'll take my car. There's enough room for all of us."

"Can't do it Paul. I suffer from Amaxophobia - that's a fear of cars. I can't make it inside your car... impossible. Yeah... that, will be impossible," He looked around, at the others in the room and nodded.

"What is it with you people this morning? Are you shitting me? Alright... who else has some sort of phobia? Let's get all this bullshit out of the way. Larry ... ? Any other phobias I should know about?"

"Well... uhmm...  none really, that I want to share with everyone here. They're kind of personal," Larry lowered his head and sipped his coffee. I stared back at him and gestured for him to continue.

"Well... that building we're going to ... do the elevators work? Because if they don't work... I can't go. I ugh... I can't take the stairs. I have Bathmophobia.."

"Which is what... ? You're scared of stairs?" I looked at him.

"Yes... uhm...  actually- I am. Stairs and steep slopes scare me. It'll be impossible for me to take those stairs."

"Larry - you're bullshitting me - right ? You just took the stairs, to get to my office. How'd ya do that? What did you do - close your fucking eyes?"

He looked back at me and smiled meekly. I looked at Michelle and raised my eyebrows. "Michelle... how about you? " 

"No... no... no... I.m good. I mean, uhh, I have some things... I.m working on - but I should be fine. Uhm... That warehouse we're going to... it's not that big, black, brick building... near the train tracks - is it?"

"Yes..." I replied. "It might be... Why? Are you afraid of buildings or something ?"

"Come on Paul - THAT would be fucking stupid. No... I.m not afraid of buildings. I.m just afraid... of the color black. It's a phobia called - Melanophobia, and black... just terrifies me!  Oh...  and... I uh... also have, Lockiophobia - but that... won't bother me here, at all."

"No kidding?" Darren chimed in. "You too? Wow... and I thought my wife was the only one with Lockiophobia," Michelle smiled knowingly at Darren... and blew him... a kiss...

"All right... all right... what, the fuck, is Lockiophobia ?"

"It's a fear... of childbirth Paul, " replied Michelle, in a very soft voice. Brett put his arms around Michelle's shoulder.

Darren looked at me and spoke. "You know Paul, they estimate that there are over 355 million people world wide, who suffer from some sort of phobia. So it's really not that strange. It's a serious anxiety disorder, that most people are afraid to even admit, they have."

"Really... ? Well then... what are we going to do about these buildings, that I wanted to visit today? Am I going alone ?" I looked at the group of them and leaned back in my chair, exasperated. Then it dawned on me...

"Darren... you and your wife have four . How can she be afraid of childbirth?"

Darren looked at me... and then at the others... and started laughing. Brett, Michelle and Larry all began cracking up as well. Larry's coffee spilled over the edge of his cup, as he chuckled.

Michelle looked at me and spoke, "I was going to tell you, that I also had Androphobia and Phallophobia, but I figured you wouldn't believe me. Paul... you know what today is? It is - 'International Let's Mess With Someone Day'...  and you're the one, we picked... to mess with." 

"You guys, are seriously messed up," I looked at them.

The chortles, guffaws and giggles, continued for a while. I didn't really think, it was all that funny. But when I found out what Androphobia was - well... I had to laugh. It is the fear of men, and Michelle is the biggest slu.t in the office: that is off the record of course. And Phallophobia... well... you figure it out.

We piled into my car. It was a really... tight... squeeze. Darren is a bear of a man, but we made it. All until Larry, started yelling at Brett. "Don't touch me for fucks sake. Don't touch me... asshole. You know I have Aphenphosmphobia."

© December 2018 Paul P.
What type of fears (or phobias) , do you have?

How many women out there are suffering from Phllophobia ?
Some men, might suffer from Eurotophobia, but they won't admit it here.

Aphenphosmphobia = Fear of being touched
Phallophobia = The fear of a penis
Eurotophobia = Fear of female genitalia
The treatment for most phobias is to - confront them head on and face them. The sufferer of the phobia gradually becomes desensitized to their fear.
.. .
......................... .
. .
Please Stop Sending Me Vagina Pics
Posted:Dec 11, 2018 12:52 am
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2020 9:44 am
I am literally inundated with more than a hundred pictures of vaginas on a weekly basis. Now don't get me wrong... all men love vaginas and what we can do with them, and I.m one of those men who - absolutely adores them. But seriously ... ladies...  is that all that you are? A pussy attached to a body, ready to swallow up and squeeze my dick in your love muscle? What about your mind, or does that organ even function ?

My inbox is overflowing and I don't know what to do with all of them - pics that is. Each one special in it's own cute, sexy hot and wet way. Some sheared smooth and quite handsome. Others... are excessively hairy , and with all due respect - require some serious maintenance. Let's face it.... they are all starting to look alike ! In fact I have had to cancel my Gold Membership in order to quell the influx of all those pussy pics. 

I.m tired of mindless sex. It is so fatiguing. My profile clearly states;

"... If you're an intelligent woman with a wicked sense of humour, and interesting conversation flows easily for you - then I'd be intrigued.  "

It's pretty obvious that these women haven't even read my profile. I don't bother blocking those ladies, I simply ignore the offending emails and move on. And just because my profile, also says :

"... I am looking for some shared laughs, and then... I.m sure we'll figure things out. "

Does that imply that my dick is here just waiting to be used and abused by your hungry vaginas? Come to think of it... perhaps I.m giving out the wrong signals. Yes - sex is important, but it is not the only thing that is of value to me. What about a stimulating conversation ? How about getting to know me; talking with me and becoming familiar with my hopes and dreams ? I'd love to go out for dinner or a movie. There is more to me, than just my penis - isn't there?

I get messages similar to; "Well... you have pics of your penis on your profile - when can we fuck?" Not even a - "Hello... How are you ?" While it is true, I have dic pics on my profile - they are for 'friends only'. Why can't we start off by being 'friends'? Why do I have to be treated like some sort of fuck machine? Well ... for now ... I'll let things be. My little rant is over.

The above blog post was one that I have written in advance... for that day, when I am inundated with too many vagina pics. I will post it then. Yes... you can be sure. I will post it... on that day. Someday... One day... 

Until then... please keep those vagina pics, coming. Send them to me at - 'My Private Mail Box '- here on my blog. My other mail box, is slammed! 😱 😁

© December 2018 Paul P..
Any women having a similar problem - but with too many dic pics?
Any guys having issues, with too many vagina pics in their emails?
. .
. .
How Short Can It Be And Still. ..
Posted:Dec 7, 2018 1:32 am
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2019 3:20 am
.... satisfy ....
. .
Ice Sharks Don't Really Exist
Posted:Dec 6, 2018 1:42 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:39 pm
The north wind, howled down the lake. It blew the powdered snow, across his path, in horizontal sheets, that stung his cheeks. Brilliant midday sun, belied the harsh cold and blinded him. He lowered his covered head and trudged forward. When they were in love - they would walk that expanse together... laughing, as they slipped their way, across the polished ice. 

He moved steadfastly, in spite of the arctic conditions. Though you might have thought, he would be concerned. Would he find his way to safety, on the other side - before freezing... or falling through the ice?

When she was with him,  that was the joke , they always shared. They both knew, there was never, any danger, of either event occurring. The ice was three feet thick and they were dressed, like Everest climbers. 

When they would finally arrive (at that other side), the families from the ice huts, would greet them with warm hugs. Shots of alcohol, would always be shared. They would toast to health, to happiness and to long lives. Heck... eventually... they would toast to the fish. He would pull out the sandwiches and whatever else he'd brought in his knapsack, and they would all party. She'd laugh with him and with those hardy men and women, as they fished, for whatever they were catching - through those ice holes. Snowmobiles - chased by dogs and piloted by teens - would buzz around, racing across the ice and snow. By late day, the fishing would be done and the ice holes would be quickly, freezing over. They would have eaten, and drank and bated hooks, all afternoon. Plumes of grey smoke, would rise from wood stoves, as those shacks, became welcome shelters for the  frozen. There were many... who huddled in there; laughing, as marshmallows were being toasted and hot chocolate, was being served.

On this day, he was alone. He was halfway to the fishermen, as he paused and looked forward at the scattered ice huts. He then turned, and looked back, at that black dot, by  his shore. It was where, he had parked his car.

When she was with him... she'd laugh and make fun, of his resolve. She'd always walk ahead, beckoning him, to catch up to her.

"Quick... Quick... Come here. I see an ice shark, " she'd holler and wave to him, as she stared into the black ice. He'd always run up to her, as if it were true... just to amuse her. She would always reward him, with a loving kiss. Ice sharks don't really exist. I guess, a sturgeon might look like a shark, if you didn't know any better. 

There were no jokes, or laughter... or kisses, to share with anyone, on this day. The wind... hardly cared. It mocked him... whistling in his ears. He shielded his eyes against the sun, adjusted his glasses and peered into the whiteness. He looked at those dotted huts in the distance - through that wind swept haze. Then... he turned around. With his back to those shacks... and those fishermen - he slowly made his way, towards  his shoreline. 

When they were together, she'd ask him, if they could hurry back. Her feet were usually freezing... by then. 

There was no rush now. He'd be at his car, in less than an hour. The unopened bottle of vodka, resting in his pack, would still be cold, by the time he got home. He was standing, on a large patch of clear ice, as he bent down to adjust his boots. Just as he rose from his crouch, he saw, a shark swim by. "That was impossible... " he thought. "Ice sharks don't really exist." 

© December 2018 Paul P.
Can you enjoy, going on adventures alone; or do you only go, when you have company to join you?
Have you ever been ice fishing? 
. .
. .
FrankeeZee and the Xmas Partee... 🎅... #48
Posted:Dec 4, 2018 1:18 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2020 6:00 pm
FrankeeZee is a funny guy. He's my friend and blogger buddy (from that other sex site - ™FOGCAF) and he came over to my house on Sunday. We ordered pizza, watched the Patriots beat the Vikings and then... he let me read one of his wild blog stories.

"Paul... We had our Company Christmas Party on Friday. I wrote a blog about it. I know you don't know shit, about writing, or blogging... but I'd like your opinion anyway. Ok?"

He passed me his laptop and went into my fridge, to grab another drink.

" Hey... Paul... You're outta vodka slushies?"

"There's more in the freezer..." I yelled back.

I began to read FrankeeZee's blog ...

... Everyone in the office (even Bob, in accounting), looks forward, to that one day, in the year - the Company Christmas Party. This year's affair was epic. Some people said - "It was the best party we've ever had!" Others... disagreed. Regardless of what you thought... it was deffinitely an unforgettable night!

It was held, at the airport Hilton and they booked rooms for all 50 of us. We took advantage of the open bar and they served a great Mediterranean buffet. The DJ, played an eclectic mix of tunes, and that just rounded out the vibe. I mean... who doesn't like "Jingle Bell Rock" ?

(I smiled to myself. FrankeeZee's casual writing style, resembled mine... a lot. In fact... too much ! I continued to read... )

I'll describe how the night went down, but you know company parties. Everyone was getting hammered. Mike (the new guy in sales), was telling the President, how to run his company. Morty (in receivables), was hitting on that hot, new, Marketing Secretary - Belinda. Rebeca, had already had, the fight, with her boyfriend. She'd told him to "fuck off", before dessert. She then began hitting on the VP Finance, Michael - even though his wife Sandra, was sitting right next to him. Oh, and Sammy... he got into some sort of political argument with Gail's new boyfriend - Alex. I have to admit... Alex was being an asshole. Like I said... it was your typical company Christmas party.

Santa Claus finally showed up, to pass out the gifts - and that's, when things got... slightly out of control.

Santa was this guy - Steve, in shipping. He was built for the part and no extra pillows were required. Cindy (Sammy's girlfriend), volunteered to be Santa's Little Helper. She was wearing a really... short skirt and she was blasted. Someone, dared her to go up on stage without wearing any panties. Cindy sat on Santa's lap - as she was introduced to all of us. We gave her a nice round of applause. I noticed she left a wet spot, on his knee... when she stood up. It's when she bent over the table (to pass out the first gift) - that's when everyone, saw EVERYTHING, she had to offer.

Yes... all of her woman bits were on display. It was hot! Alex, started hooting and hollering and Sammy, told him to - "Shut the fuck up." Before we knew it, Sammy had thrown Alex, into the large bowl of jello, on the sweet table. What a mess!

We continued the party, until 3 am - when they closed the bar and kicked us out of the hall. A bunch of us, then went to Bob's room, drank some more, and sang made up Christmas carols. You know... songs like... "Deck His Balls"...?

Cindy's blowing
Santa's growing
Fa la la la la...
La la... la la.
Sammy's fuming
and he's throwing
Jell le le le low...
Low low... low low.

Sammy and Cindy, weren't there, by the way. We had to stop singing, when the cops showed up.

All in all... a memorable time, was had by everyone. We can hardly wait, for the Company Valentine's Day Party. It's going to be the same DJ.

Question :
Do you like Christmas cartoons?

I closed FrankeeZee' s laptop and looked at him.

"Good story Frank, but your blog question is... irrelevant. What do cartoons have to do with your Christmas Party... and the blog you wrote?"

"Paul... You really know, fuck all, about blogging on sex sites. People don't really read what you write. The only thing they care about is the question you ask. They want to answer an easy question - then move onto the next blog, as quickly as possible. And let's face it - who doesn't like Christmas cartoons? My Comments section, is going to go be off the charts. I've told you before - it's all about engaging your audience. "

I stared at FrankeeZee and blinked.

"Hey Paul. The football game's over. What else is on?"

I checked the TV menu.

"Uhhh... We could watch more football. Or... we've got... 'Frosty The Snow Man' ... Oh and uhh.. the Network has, 'A Charlie Brown Chrismas'. "

"Yeah... how about 'A Charlie Brown Christmas''? That Frosty guy, just creeps me out. Why the fuck, is a grown snow MAN, hanging around and playing with a bunch of ... right?"

I looked up at FrankeeZee, shook my head... took the remote and punched in channel 94.

What are some of your favorite Christmas cartoons or Specials ?
Do you enjoy Company (...or family ...or friends' ) Christmas parties?

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun

FrankeeZee's pic of Cindy's boyfriend (Sammy), helping her out of her panties.
This story is my submission to - Virtual Symposium #48 Virtual Symposium Group . .
. .
Kinky Sex... Or Vanilla Ice Cream?
Posted:Nov 30, 2018 12:39 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2020 6:02 pm
Last night, my friend FrankeeZee and I, were hanging out together, at the mall. That's where most guys, past the age of 50, usually hang out... right?

We were just sitting around... chilling... watching the MILF's, as they lined up with their - for a visit, with Santa Claus.

FrankeeZee was providing the commentary by rating them, on a scale from one to ten. I took a marginal interest, in who was passing. I mean - I didn't want to seem like a perv . And with what happened to us, the last time we were there... well... We are still, on the Mall Watch List . Oh... and ...by the way... I.m blaming FrankeeZee, for THAT whole fuckup.

If you recall, FrankeeZee is a member of another, 'adult dating/sex site' (™FOGCAF) , and he's become a huge part, of the blogger community over there. He proudly announced to me that he recently, cracked the 'Top 200 All Time Blogger List' .

"Yeah... I finally cracked the top 200. I am 198th. Where are you Paul?"

"I don't know. We don't worry about shit like that over at A F F . We're too busy creating quality content."

"Ahhh...! So you're not in the top 50 yet... right? You should post pics of people fucking. Or do a Think Piece. Yeah! Everyone loves that type of shit."

I looked at him and blinked.

"Hey Paul... How about this for a blog post idea - Vanilla Ice Cream...? What do you think? I explore the whole concept of multi-flavored ice cream and how it relates to people's choices, in sexual preferences and kinkiness. And... let's face it... everyone loves ice cream. My 'Comments', are gonna shoot right off the charts. It's all about the 'Comments' ... It's all about engaging your audience, Paul."

I looked at him... and blinked again.

Suddenly, FrankeeZee, nudged me in the ribs...

" Paul... Paul... That one there. Take a look. Ooo... she's hot! Let's follow her, and see where she goes. "

" She's dragging a 2 year o.ld and she's got another in the stroller, for fucks sake! That's how we got into trouble the last time."

"Yeah... yeah... You're right about that. I gotta better idea. Let's go get an ice cream. There's a place on the second floor. They serve 100 flavors."

"That's the first good idea, you've come up with, in a long time, " I nodded.

So... off we trudged...

There was a huge line up when we got there. It gave me the time, to read their 'Menu - Of 100 Flavors' .

"Holy cow. They gotta lotta flavors... Hmmm... I don't know... I think I'll have the mint chocolate chip. How's about you Frank?"

"Me? Oh, I always order the same thing when I.m here; vanilla... two scoops."

I looked at FrankeeZee... and just shook my head.

© December 2018 Paul P.
What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Do you think there is a correlation between your choice of ice cream flavor and your sexual kinkiness level?

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun . .
. .
Wet And Naked In Jamaica
Posted:Nov 29, 2018 12:57 am
Last Updated:May 4, 2019 12:19 pm
He opened the screen door, stepped in, and then quickly shut it behind him. Thunder... rumbled in the distance... and rain draped, a steady beat, against the roof of their hut. He kicked his sandals to the side, walked into the sparsely lit bedroom and paused... there she lay.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. He looked up. The large, chrome ceiling fan hummed quietly and circled at a pace... that could barely move dust. Looking down at the bed, he could see that her head, was buried deep, in a pillow. Long strands of her brown hair, lay tussled across her face. Her breathing was slow and deep... and he knew... she'd had too much to drink. Though... even in that dim light... she looked beautiful, and of course... completely helpless.

The tile floors, were cold under his feet, as he quietly tiptoed over ... and sat beside her, on the bed. He listened. She breathed in... and then out... to the rhythm, of a slow... ticking... clock, which only measured time - at half speed. You know... it's that clock you use when you're on vacation. The night table, held evidence: the bottle of wine, was half empty and the glass next to it ... was stained, with her crimson lipstick. Her soggy shirt, barely covered her breasts, and her damp jeans... "Well... hey... she'd obviously been outside, in the rain," he thought. "She couldn't be comfortable - as wet as she was."

He unfastened the top button on her pants and pulled the zipper. His fingers slipped in against her warm...satin skin. Her hips resisted. He pulled gently, raised her and tugged the wet denim, down her creamy thighs, along her legs and toward her feet. Finally... they were free. She moved... and sighed. He threw the jeans over the edge of a chair and turned to her again..."That shirt is coming off too," he said to himself. With gentle, nimble hands, he unbuttoned and slipped that wet garment off her silky back - throwing it to the side. Her breasts lay free...

He touched her - as his hands softly caressed her waist and hips. Once again...he realized... she was wet! The panties she wore, were damp and he presumed - " ... not cozy at all. I'll help her." He slipped his fingers into the elastic band and slowly... pulled them off. Tangled... twisted... cotton... soon disappeared, past her toes. He gazed at that bare, smooth mound between her legs. Her breasts rose, as she breathed. She remained... silent - her eyes closed tight.

He stood up and looked at her.... She was... perfectly peaceful...and completely naked. He wished she was awake. He couldn't leave her like that. The sound of rolling thunder, and rain beating overhead - startled him from his daze... and reminded him to continue.

Reaching over to the dresser, he grabbed her bikini bottom and began slipping it... up her legs. Her skin, was soft to his touch. She only twitched once, or perhaps it was twice - as his hands came close, to that special warmth between her thighs. Was she wet... in that other way...or did he imagine it? He would have touched her there... but he wouldn't. He only did so (from pure necessity), to adjust the fit of her bikini... around that spot. She would usually, push herself toward him, so he could touch it. The heat he felt, warmed his fingers - as he lingered there. The tips of his fingers... so close... he could feel her heartbeat. And you know... how close, he had to be... !

Seizing the bikini top, he then tied the string, behind her neck and across her back. Cupping her full breasts in his hands, while pushing her nipples into their final resting place... he realized that... that... he'd aroused them. How did that happen? Her nipples were erect, and hard. He looked at her as she slept; her eyes were shut tight. Relieved and quite satisfied that his tasks were complete... he leaned over... and kissed her cheek.

He was about to get up from her side, when he felt a hand on his thigh.

"Paul... my darling... I fell asleep. I waited for you... and then I got bored. Where were you my love?" Lynn ran her fingers, through her tussled hair, and smiled... sleepily.

"Hey babe...I got stuck. The rain washed out, one of the roads... I had to drive halfway round Jamaica, to get back to the hotel. I see you started the party without me?"

"Come here... you!"

She reached with both arms and hugged his neck... pulling him close, as she kissed him with all her might. Their tongues lingered... and their breath quickened...

"I wasn't wearing this bikini when I went to bed. How'd I get dressed like this? Did you look at me naked?" Lynn laughed.

"I can change the oil on a '65 Mustang, in the dark, with a crescent wrench dear. I can certainly undress, and then dress you, without looking... " Paul stared at her, unblinking. But... he couldn't hold back his laughter.

"... without looking very much... that is. Fuck...you're hot when you're naked and sleeping," he laughed.

"What about when I.m awake?" She looked at him, with her twinkling, blue green eyes, and kissed him once again. Then... she lunged for his shorts... tugging them down.

"Why did I bother dressing you Lynn?" he asked, in mock anger.

"I don't know. I was awake... I was faking it... and I.m fucking wet now. It took all of my strength, not to spread my legs... and just push your fingers inside me."

"Whaaat...? Seriously ? You're bad... !"

Paul stood up and pulled off his shorts. His hard dick, swung in the air - as Lynn grabbed it and dragged him on top of her. Their playful laughter filled the room. Lynn screamed, as Paul tugged her bikini, off her bum...and tossed it in the air.

The rain had stopped and it was quiet outside - except... for a million crickets. They both knew... there was another storm - just about to begin. And it was brewing... right inside that bedroom.

© December 2018 Paul P.
What do you think about - Vacation sex - is it (was it), better than regular sex?
Do you enjoy that laid back vacation vibe

Yep... The question to this post was a tough one. 😶 . .
.. .
Memories In A Puff Of Smoke
Posted:Nov 27, 2018 1:47 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:41 pm
I've never been a big cigarette smoker... but... when I was 9 , I gave it a serious go. It wasn't my idea - it was Tony's. He was also 9... but he acted more like... well... more like he was 10 or 11 . He was my best friend... and one lazy summer afternoon - we smoked ourselves silly.

Tony was my neighbour and lived across the street. Every morning, before his dad left for work, he'd give him, to buy a pack of cigarettes. In those days, a pack cost... about or so? With any change left, he was allowed to get gum and candy or firecrackers... or whatever he wanted.

Back then... us were allowed to purchase stuff, like cigarettes or even beer, for our parents. Nobody asked us for a note, or anything like that. Store owners were trusting and rules were lax. We also drank water out of garden hoses and drove in cars without seatbelts. Parents never worried too much about their ... or about water pipes, lined with asbestos - for that matter.

On that July afternoon, Tony walked across the street and rang my doorbell. His question - "Can Paul, come out, to play?" was answered by my mom. She would check - but as she turned around, I'd already squeezed through the door and was running outside.

We walked to the back of my house, where the street ended and the field and the forest began. They'd build homes there... one day. We walked along the dusty path, until we were shaded by a cluster of large birch and maple trees. Tony reached into his pocket...

"Paul. Look what I got ," and he pulled out a brand new pack of cigarettes.

I was impressed. "Where dja' get that ?"

"I bought a pack for my dad, and I bought this pack for us. Oh... and I also got some gum too," and he waved a paper bag.

"Isn't he gonna notice something?"

"Nah... He never counts the change. He doesn't care about the candy I buy either. The only thing is, we've gotta smoke the whole pack, before he comes home from work. If my pop finds cigarettes on me, I'll be dead."

"No kidding," I thought. Tony opened the pack and we each took a cigarette. We spent the next minute, or so, just holding and smelling it. Have you ever noticed, that before you light a cigarette - it actually smells pretty good?

Tony, eventually pulled matches from his pocket... and brought one - to life. I watched, as he puffed on his cigarette... 6...or 7 times... until it was glowing and flaming a fiery red! Smoke billowed everywhere and hovered around his head, like some sort of magical cloud. I was fascinated. He passed me the matches and I did exactly ... what I'd seen him do.

My first few puffs, didn't go too well. I started coughing and choking. Tony then showed me how to inhale. He was pretty good at it, and soon... so was I. Smoke rose into the air and we watched as it floated, up to the sky, while we were under that maple tree, in that dark tinted forest. It felt really cool. We looked at each other and smiled. If only the older , could see us now.

After that first cigarette, we both felt dizzy - so we sat down, under the tree. Tony reached into his paper bag and handed me a piece of Bazooka bubble gum. For those who don't know - Bazooka gum came out in 1945, and was wrapped in wax paper, with a printed cartoon called - Bazooka Joe. We sat there reading and then we exchanged wrappers. I don't know if they still sell Bazooka gum. I haven't seen it. I really don't think it was the best name for a ' bubble gum... was it?

Even before, we'd chewed all the flavor from the gum - Tony had pulled, another 2 cigarettes, out of the pack, and looked at me... with concern.

"Paul... Go get your brother. We're gonna n.eed help. There's another 18 cigarettes in this pack."

I was only 9... but if I'd known how to swear, I would have said something like: "Are you fucking kidding me... 18 cigarettes? We're never going to finish that whole, fucking pack, before your dad gets home."

What I said instead was - " My brother's only 6...he doesn't know how to smoke."

"Neither did you until 5 minutes ago. And he's always bugging us to play with him. Well... now he'll get his chance."

Tony had a point. "Ok... I'll go get him." Before long - Johnny - my little brother, was eagerly running behind me, up to the tree where Tony stood... waiting. Little Johnny was happy to be with us. He was even happier, when Tony gave him a cigarette. He showed him how to hold it. I showed him how to puff it, without choking. What are older brothers for - right?

We sat there, under that old maple tree; the three of us... smoking our lungs out. In between cigarettes, Tony would hand us each, another Bazooka. After the third... or was it the forth cigarette... we started to loose interest in that whole smoking thing. Our throats were burning and the novelty was wearing off. My little brother, had almost thrown up, at least twice, but the trooper that he was - he never gave up.

Tony eventually, started lighting up his cigarettes... two at a time, and held them in both his hands. I laughed as I watched him take a puff from one, and then from the other. Of course, I did the same thing. My little brother held steady and gently puffed, on his cigarette. He was doing his part. At some point we struggled (in vane), to blow smoke rings. Tony figured it would take at least, another couple of packs, before we'd get good enough to do that. I agreed. My little brother didn't say anything - he was turning greenish.

Many years later... I realized, there was a certain satisfaction I'd get, in blowing that perfect smoke ring. If you've never tried it... I guess you wouldn't know.

After what seemed like forever - we got to the last cigarette and actually tried to savor it. At that moment... Tony's mother started hollering his name, in the distance. It was dinner time. His dad was home. Tony threw me the empty cigarette pack.

"Paul... here... burry this thing somewhere. I've gotta go. Oh, and here ... take some more gum. I'll see you after supper... maybe. Ok ?"

I took the gum and waved to Tony as he ran off. My little brother Johnny, butt out his cigarette - just like a pro - and then... leaned up against the tree. Who knew if he was dizzy... but I was still proud of the little guy! Slowly we chewed our gum, and walked back home.

The next day, the doorbell rang - it was Tony. I heard him speak with my mom as I ran towards the door. "Can Paul, come out, to play?" Tony had his hands in his pockets. I only hoped his fingers weren't holding any cigarettes and... they weren't...

It was about 5 or 6 y.ears later, when I watched, as they bulldozed that maple tree: the one where Tony and my brother and I had stood - smoking. He'd moved away, a few y.ears back, but I thought about him, for a second or so. It's like that when you're a ...right ? Those memories hover for a bit - and then, they're gone... just like that puff of smoke. That's exactly what they were... memories in a puff of smoke.

© November 2018 Paul P.
Did you ever have a 'best friend' you hung out with...someone you looked forward to seeing every day?

What was your first experience with smoking a cigarette?

Yesterday I saw Tony for the first time in over 45 y.ears. I attended his funeral. He died of cancer on the 19th. It wasn't lung cancer though. He lay there peacefully ,with a smile on his face... as if he was about to share a joke. I guess I'll never know what that joke was... I.m pretty sure I would have laughed though. He always did make me laugh... I can't even say that I was really sad... more wistful than anything... as if I had missed something. You know what I mean?. .
. .

To link to this blog (Paulxx001) use [blog Paulxx001] in your messages.

 Paulxx001 64M
64 M
November 2021
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat

Recent Visitors

Visitor Age Sex Date
lust4life59  62F12/4
author51 58F12/4
65xStheCOCC  42/26C12/3
lindoboy100  58M12/3
smartasswoman 64F12/3
augustacierta4  41F11/29
HelloWorldIm69  30M11/29
scoupe42 58M11/29
Meet4real99  22M11/28
anastasia666 43F11/24