WildHoney
Blue Crack Distributor
Irish sausages
I'll Show you some real Irish sausage on Staturday night
I'll Show you some real Irish sausage on Staturday night
Russty Cat said:
I don't think B needs to see me right now, I'm way to horny for my own good.
WildHoney said:Jemma , Susan
What bread do you prefer???
Russty Cat said:
Thanks Susan! You guys are about the only ones I can really share Mr. Cat stuff with since everything he usually says is a sexual inuendo, it doesn't go over well with my church friends or my family. And I love talking to you too! I'm so jealous of all the fun you guys get to have across the big ole pond. hehe I wish I was gonna be there with you at the show.
daygloeyes2 said:I have to go , but let me leave you with a little something. Sorry if it's a little rushed at the end, but I have to leave!
It’s late at night and you’re driving along a deserted road. Outside it’s warm, unusually warm, which is why you’re grateful to be in your car with the air conditioning on full blast. You look to the side of the road and see a car that appears to be broken down. Concerned for whoever may be in there, you pull over in front of it. You step out of the car, and the humidity hits you like a brick after being in your nice cool car for so long. As you approach, you spot a man leaning against one of the back tires. With his all black attire, he nearly blends in with the night sky. He’s slumped over, one strong arm draped in front of him, another one resting on a knee. Even though it’s late at night he’s wearing a pair of thick dark sunglasses. His slightly long hair is rumpled a little bit and you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your hands through it. Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you approach him and tap him lightly on the shoulder.
He jumps, and you can see him tense up in his shoulders. He stretches his arms up into the sky and positions himself so he is now sitting Indian-style. Looking up, he takes off his sunglasses to reveal a pair of sleepy but still sparkling blue eyes. “Are you OK?” you ask. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he says with an Irish accent that makes your stomach do involuntary cartwheels, “Just had a bit of car trouble that’s all. I fell asleep waiting for someone to come, and now someone did.” His lips curl into a wide grin, and you feel a flush creep on to your face. You need to get away from him to try and clear your head, to get your bearings. You start to step out of the way, walking away from his car, but a loose rock on the ground collides with your foot and sends you tumbling backwards into his lap.
You feel yourself hit his lap, and you put an arm around his neck to brace yourself. He puts an arm around your waist, and sits you up. A feeling of warmth rushes throughout you, and it’s not from the heat outside. He wraps his other arm around your waist and presses his face close to yours, close enough that your noses bump. “You OK, love?” he asks, those blue eyes filled with concern. His arms around your waist have sent electricity throughout you and you can barely think but somehow you find the strength to say the words “I’m fine,” in a weak whisper. “I’m not so sure,” he says, a playful grin forming his face. “I see a bump here,” he presses his lips to your forehead, “here”, trails his lips down your cheek and jawbone” and it looks like you’re really hurting here.” Reaching your lips, he kisses them softly, gently tugging on your lower lip. You respond, deepening the kiss, running your fingers through his hair. He runs one hand down your side, gently caressing your leg. His kiss stifles your moans.
His lips still on yours, he gently lays you to the ground, one hand moved behind your head to protect it, another arm still snaked around your waist. Despite the heat, the ground is cool, a wonderful contrast to the heat running through your body. You reach up and tug away at his t-shirt, while his hands aggressively unbutton your shirt. He’s trying to unzip your skirt, but grows impatient and pushes it up. You moan as his hands hit your thighs, and run your hand along his chest. A low growl escapes from him as he finally pushes up your skirt, each of you stifling each other’s cries with your kisses.
susanp6 said:Bono cooties VP?
U2MaNaIcWeIdO said:
Same here...but I'm a virgin..so that makes it even worse!
VintagePunk said:
Of course, good ol' stank Larry's response to same was "if you want to keep it real, go work in a fucking coal mine."
A man of few words...direct, and to the point.
Russty Cat said:
ARGH! I remember those days! Honestly though, sometimes the fantasy is better then the reality.
Elessarian said:
One of my favorite "Larry's stank" moments:
Kurt Loder: Which tour was the longest?
Larry: Zoo TV. Two and a half years with an album in the middle.
Kurt Loder: Which tour had the most tension, was the most stressful?
Larry: Zoo TV.
Kurt Loder: Why was that?
Larry: Because it was two and a half years with an album in the middle.
WildHoney said:
GG giving Susan sausage
VintagePunk said:Later DG, GG!!!!
*whispers* crap, almost put SG...and she's sooo sensitive about that.
Elessarian said:
One of my favorite "Larry's stank" moments:
Kurt Loder: Which tour was the longest?
Larry: Zoo TV. Two and a half years with an album in the middle.
Kurt Loder: Which tour had the most tension, was the most stressful?
Larry: Zoo TV.
Kurt Loder: Why was that?
Larry: Because it was two and a half years with an album in the middle.