Slipping Into Something More Confusing

After a night of wonder and romanticism, we went back to her place.

We strolled down her street, taking our time building the tension. My heart was racing as my thoughts bounced inside my head. How would it begin? What would we be doing right before, right after? Why did I have a pocket full of napkins? I was ready to take this mission on. I wanted her more than a fugitive wants to not be followed everywhere. We walked up two flights of stairs. She opened up the door. We walked in, and the standard drink was offered. I accepted.

Then she said, "Let me slip into something more confusing."

I said sure.

She went into her room. I took off my shoes. I slid into sex-mode.

She came out of her room wearing my clothes. It was going to be two of those nights. We maneuvered around each other's perimeters. She set off my pant alarm. My sexual searchlight spotted her prison break and my agents went to work. She offered the obligatory cavity search; I did the gentlemanly thing, and hammered an Out of Order sign on my backwater terrace, then placed the lobster bib around her flesh cummerbund.

She then found the conch meat I was hiding, and located it towards her nether-suburbs. I whistled, and my Clydesdales removed themselves from their stables, chasing a rabbit with pig-tails around an oval shaped coliseum of clumsiness. Needless to say, things were getting pretty eligible. I let her knead my loaf. She wore a smelting mask with a mirror with a picture of what she thought it would be reflecting taped to the front. It was spot on. Except for the discount flipper rack. I didn't see one of those in her apartment. But I could have been mistaken.

Then the main event.

The five-play was over and it was time for the regular programming to continue. She told me that she wanted me to own her notch. I remembered to her that I would only want to do that. She blushed and then winked at herself because at that moment I put on the mirror clad smelting mask. It now had a picture of her winking at herself. My hands turned to feet. My cold was hot. I was so eligible.

I couldn't control yourself, and I freed me. I freed me good.