M Database Inspector (cheetah)
|Not logged in. Login|
|airJuice - 39 Rows|
It took another week until Barbie
moved to my place for
the next two and a half years.
Much later she will tell me she had counted
two and a half times a day on average throughout.
Totaling over 2000 in all,
I'd call it a medium size relationship.
It took three days for Nitty to come back on her knees.
I lifted her up as much as I could,
doing her as much as possible,
which was surely quite much.
I wasn't keeping count.
I think I was really doing her for a while and for a change.
It was somewhat refreshing.
It didn't last long.
Needless to say,
Barbie was phone leaning on my hormones again,
promising heaven again.
This time she had good grounds for sure.
My hormones were juggling all three of us like
ping pong balls in heat.
It was nerve wrecking, and all three of us were
a nervous wreck, but not in the same ship wreck at all.
It took Barbie a total of a month and a half again,
to chase Nitty off all the way to the other end of the planet,
a sharp hundred and eighty degrees, as remote as possible.
Nitty went to Thailand, Laos and the vicinity.
K. was working for the father of the cousin, the happy daughter.
So he did her, like he did everybody else.
or at least that is what she told me while she was doing me,
when she said she refused him.
I can't believe she had thought I would fall for this one.
The great one is never said no to, never.
So he did everything that moved,
and everything that moved faster than the rest did me.
I made very few choices in life, if any.
At first, my in law told me K. wants to do me,
and that I should beware.
so I almost immediately asked K.
what exactly is stopping her,
as if I didn't know nothing was.
I went to her husband, the Jazz Guitar player,
to ask for her hand.
At the time he was a very good friend,
with whom I was planning future doos.
It was in the not-before-not-after single evening.
He was so right being condescending,
that I felt like a very small boy,
and we both pitied him together for his frustration.
That night she did me.
Strangely, K. did Archy before the Jazz Guitar player.
Archy was doing the happy daughter for several years
before she was happy.
K. picked up the Jazz Guitar player just for the Guitar,
and she and Archy were actually in love when K.
and the Jazz Guitar Player got married.
Cousin and her father, Archy and K.
all entangled in a web of generations, doos, and
people turning happy in an early midlife crisis.
This is not my web at all.
It was woven long before I had the age
to get caught in the strands.
Like I said, I did not have a life by then,
except for Nitty and the doos, that is.
In attempting to change that,
I decided to move with Nitty to Israel.
I was always the guiding force
when hormones were not involved.
Die Hard SDR fans like Nitty and myself always have
a dark habit beyond their control,
always more powerful than the chemicals.
Lucky for me, mine is just hormones, like most men.
Nitty has a habit of being chased to other ends of planets
by wanna-do-me's, especially if they also happen to be
younger sisters of someone from the close vicinity.
After all, she is one. Pride can carry a long way.
Being a prophetic fairy witch, its not even hard.
She was preparing for the encounter with the first lawyer,
whilst in The States, as we were packing our things to plan
our life together in Israel.
Every box had a name.
Not what was in it, just who it belongs to.
Not a single box had shared property.
You don't need a lawyer at all if you are that capable as a prophet.