Frank had the type of ass you wish they modeled pillows after. An ass that soft, he had to be eating nothing but goosedown. Frank was the sort of person I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. In bed. It was not to bee.
Frank had come over around four in the morning. He'd got lost on his way down from Boston, and with no cell phone he had only managed to find my place by dumb luck. I had actually given up on him, and was just starting to jerk off when the doorbell rang.
A few Mike's Hard Lemonades later and we were testing my bedsprings, and the stability of the computer chair, and the angle of the staircase. His ass was so soft, I was afraid that if I gripped it too tight he would pop and float all over the room. We were still going at it hard and heavy at 5:30 when I noticed the first yellow jacket.
Ever since I stepped in a wasp's nest when I was ten years old, I've had a tremendous fear of bees. I don't mind spiders, caterpillars, moths or anything. Cockroaches disgust me, but they don't give me the willies. I just squash them or Raid them. Bees and I have an arrangement. I don't mess with them, they leave me alone. It usually works out splendidly but this particular morning a yellowjacket had decided to land on Frank's perfect ass.
While he didn't exactly deflate, the sting did send him flapping around the room. That's when we noticed the other yellowjackets. Dozens of them. Not swarming, just hovering. We threw on our clothes and slowly made our way downstairs where dozens of other bees were having some sort of bizarre hoedown in my living room.
It turns out there was a hive in my next door neighbor's attic, and the bees were flying through the cracks into my attic where they sought to establish another colony. I hired an exterminator to take care of that. No one ruins a sweet ass fucking and gets away with it.
original post: http://community.livejournal.com/bad_sex/548993.html
Frank had come over around four in the morning. He'd got lost on his way down from Boston, and with no cell phone he had only managed to find my place by dumb luck. I had actually given up on him, and was just starting to jerk off when the doorbell rang.
A few Mike's Hard Lemonades later and we were testing my bedsprings, and the stability of the computer chair, and the angle of the staircase. His ass was so soft, I was afraid that if I gripped it too tight he would pop and float all over the room. We were still going at it hard and heavy at 5:30 when I noticed the first yellow jacket.
Ever since I stepped in a wasp's nest when I was ten years old, I've had a tremendous fear of bees. I don't mind spiders, caterpillars, moths or anything. Cockroaches disgust me, but they don't give me the willies. I just squash them or Raid them. Bees and I have an arrangement. I don't mess with them, they leave me alone. It usually works out splendidly but this particular morning a yellowjacket had decided to land on Frank's perfect ass.
While he didn't exactly deflate, the sting did send him flapping around the room. That's when we noticed the other yellowjackets. Dozens of them. Not swarming, just hovering. We threw on our clothes and slowly made our way downstairs where dozens of other bees were having some sort of bizarre hoedown in my living room.
It turns out there was a hive in my next door neighbor's attic, and the bees were flying through the cracks into my attic where they sought to establish another colony. I hired an exterminator to take care of that. No one ruins a sweet ass fucking and gets away with it.
original post: http://community.livejournal.com/bad_sex/548993.html
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