As of late, it’s become routine for me to rush home from work, run up the stairs, strip off my panties, and jump in bed with Doc Johnson. Today, in an attempt to shake things up a bit, I added tequila to the mix. Probably not the healthiest of moves, but damn!, the tequila seemed to give us both that little extra *kick*.
truth. he called me at home. at 7:00 pm. just to check if i was doing okay (after he filled my tooth at 8:00 am this morning). wanted to know if i was having any pain… ?
Ummm, yeah, it’s KILLING ME that you already have a WIFE.
damn, but my dentist is fine! almost makes you wish for cavities… almost.
P.S. Of course i wasn’t feeling any pain… it’s Cinco de Mayo! and by 7:00 PM, I was on my fourth margarita (silly doctor!).
There really is no rhyme or reason when it comes to you. For instance, why am I thinking about you again today? What exactly is it that started this ball rolling again?
And, let’s be honest. I want you. And not in the “friend” way– but in the worst way. And, I don’t really just want to sip a beer with you. I want to smell the beer on your breath, and taste the beer on your lips.
F*ck– I want to inhale all of you. To know if you can keep pace with me. If you can satisfy me. If you like me better on my back, or on my knees…
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Sex on the Brain | Tagged: tequila, doc johnson, bed, blind, pocket rocket, sex toy, vibrator | 
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Posted by Contessa Confessa
