Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

Monday
7:00 p.m.
We have a guest arriving shortly. This will be his first time to my house. Amy has given him explicit instructions to look for the bright pink mailbox on the left hand side just past mile marker 11. I predict he will miss the driveway, just like everyone else (including me still). Amy says he is smarter than that.

7:35 p.m.
He is calling her now. Was looking for a white mailbox and completely missed the drive. I will not mock him though; as I said, I still miss it and, well, he's hot :-)

7:45 p.m.
Ok, they are sorted and on their way; I walked them to the door and said goodbye...sort of. What I really said was, "Thanks, Amy, for changing my lightbulbs." He gave me one very alarmed look. "Changing the lightbulbs" is Amy's way of telling him she wants to be invited over for sex. He is wondering right about now what sort of bizarre family he has landed in the middle of. Shrug.

The topic of conversation today is masturbation. Now, isn't that just one of the ugliest words you've ever heard? It's no wonder people get themselves all worked up over it.

It's also likely why they don't actually use the word unless they are lecturing on the subject. Ever been lectured on masturbation? These are seriously not fun conversations, generally because if someone is lecturing you on masturbation, it is with the intention of convincing you that masturbation is wrong and you should not be doing it.

I can only say, if masturbation is a bad thing, Vicky is going to hell in a handbasket and she's taking Dong with her.

Actually, Dong sits unused in a box somewhere in my bedroom, I've forgotten exactly where. Dong is too much like the real thing and not enough like the real thing. When I want the real thing, I want the real thing. And it isn't because I want an orgasm - it's because I want to hold that, suck on that...slide down that...and there is just no substitution for the real thing.

Under those circumstances, I want The Monkey.

Girls don't have a monkey; we do, however, have a soft little kitty that likes to be held and stroked until its fur is all glossy and slick. Everyone knows kitty is much better behaved than The Monkey. In fact, kitties sit in the laps of ladies, purring softly while The Monkey gets spanked.

Of course, this makes the kitty want to taunt The Monkey and get him into further trouble. The recently-spanked Monkey is trying to remain calm and not draw further attention to itself, and along comes kitty, jumping up into The Monkey's lap, rubbing her fur in his face, getting him all wet and sticky when he's just gotten cleaned up. The Monkey generally has a hard time resisting such provocative behavior, and gets all feisty and riled and starts poking at pussy who then starts to hiss and spit in return. And then, if the situation is allowed to continue, friction mounts and so does The Monkey, and then everybody ends up wet and spitting and in the doghouse, and that is when the real fun begins. When the puppies are involved, someone is bound to get bit.

Hm...mount, bound, bit - all right up there with whiskers on kittens as some of my favorite things.

10:00 p.m.
I didn't know this until recently, but smart guys spank The Monkey before they go see a girl and her pussy. This is, apparently, how guys keep The Monkey under control and prevents The Monkey from spitting prematurely at the cat. I hear they also spank The Monkey when they aren't going to see a girl for awhile and don't wish to walk around with a misbehaving miscreant climbing up their pantleg.

Girls, on the other hand, stroke the kitty to ease tension, take their mind off other things, and help them fall into a blissful sleep. Which reminds me, it's my bedtime! Come along, kitty, sure hope I can relax...

Tuesday
8:45 a.m.
I had no trouble falling asleep at all. Must have been the exercising I did right before bedtime.

In fact, I was sound asleep with happy thoughts of monkey stirring and kitty purring when Amy texted me to see if I wanted to meet up for coffee. I replied shortly thereafter, indicating that yes, coffee would be grand, and why was her car still here? That was at 6:30 a.m. I didn't hear back from her for quite some time and began to suspect she stirred The Monkey.

Finally, at 8:00 a.m., I texted her. "I'm having coffee alone this morning, aren't I?" She replied, "Yep. And by the way, if my dad asks, I spent the night at your place." LOL!

If Amy enjoys these early morning trysts as much as I do, then I imagine she will not be picking her car up for quite some time.