Bitchin'

Every time Honey Lips and I plan on having sex (due to his hectic schedule, we gotta plan!), we fall asleep on each other; sometimes during foreplay! Now you must be saying: "Well, I understand Honey Lips works hard, so he can be excused but what about you? Why do you fall asleep?".

Don't worry, my crystal ball doesn't reveal pertinent secrets, only the obvious ones.  Plus, I ask myself the same question.  I don't do any manual work (remember the old bitch who said my hands are smooth? Yea...there you go...).  As soon as I lie down in bed, my eyes start feeling heavy and before I know it, I'm nodding off like a baby.  What's the reason? I don't have a scooby.

Very often, we catch up in the mornings, all the while discussing who fell asleep the first the previous night. And we always blame each other.  And then after sex, I get bitchy.  It's like the sexual climax releases hatred into my weak system and I bitch like a bitch.  I make noise at everything.  For that too, I got no explanation.

And why the hell am I telling you all this?

Just wanna bitch, that's all.

kthxbai.

High Heels Are Not My Best Friend

"Honey, I need to get back to the car and ditch these high heels.  They are killing me.", I moaned to Honey Lips.

"I knew it.  You can't wear high heels.", Honey Lips chided.

"It's not like I don't try at all. I used to stand on my feet with high heels on for more than 8 hours a day.", I retaliated.  

"Well you're getting old then.", Honey Lips teased.

And then added, "And you're looking so sexy tonight.  I wanna give it to you real good tonight."

Pointing to my feet, I said, "Let's go.  Else I'll fall flat on my face."

With me leaning on him, we made our way to the car where, with a sigh of relief, I exchanged the high heels for a fancy schmancy pair of flat-soled shoes.  I always carry a spare when I go out.  Just in case you know.  

How in the hell do you do it?  I was under the illusion for so many years that my weight was the cause.  I'm slightly heavy in the belly and thigh areas.  But then I see those heavy T mommas strutting on murderous heels and enjoying every goddamn minute of it.  

Secretly, I wish, when I see a portly woman on stilettos, that she would trip!  I'm mean like that.  Lick my balls.  

But karma is kicking me in the ass heels.  I'm considering packing away my stilettos and come-fuck-me shoes to gather dust in some dark corner of my closet.  When I go out, I look forward to having a good time and not to wince every time I take a step.  High heels kill.  I don't care what you say.  

And God bless his heart.  HL didn't relent one inch and kept on complimenting me even when I was a few inches shorter than when I left home.  Back to the party, we stayed for another hour, dancing our feet off.  

Once home, the last words coming out of his mouth was, "You were looking gor-jyor-geous tonight!" and nodded off.

He made it up to me this morning.  

;p

Lips Sealed

Nothing beats sex in the morning.

I'm not saying another word!