Sunday, 27 January 2008

THE DAILY MALE - continues...27/01/08

I stay with Calm Best Friend until the doctor arrives then go down to the village to pick up her meds. I pop into the dining-room at lunchtime to get her some plain boiled rice et voilĂ ! Hot Frog is there as usual. Despite his urgent need for snogging lessons, he still has sexuality oozing out of every pore.

We share a secret smile (I’m going to run out of these if I’m not careful…) and my attraction to him increases. If I could just train him to kiss my way, all holiday fantasies would be fulfilled. When I get dressed for the evening, I don my ‘just-in-case-I-get-lucky’ undies - just in case. Be a shame to waste them, wouldn’t it?

Because I have no problem fancying two men at the same time, CC and I spend the evening continuing our chemical bonding. This man has long-term potential but Hot Frog might have to be climbed because, like Everest, he is there. He is also irresistibly randy eye candy, and MLP, I’m happy to say, has been relegated to the Third Division.

CC and I play footsie under the table over dinner sharing long looks and whispered confidences. He is such a fantastic raconteur, and I am increasingly drawn to him. His humour is addictive and I match him as best I can, hanging on his every word, and trying to make him laugh as much as he makes me. Being slightly pissed on unlimited Mojitos, my tongue is as loose as a chav’s morals, a fact which I shall live to regret.

Just before midnight, CC offers to walk me back to my room again and we end up having a huge snog in the corridor. Now here’s a chap who really knows how to kiss, tenderly, exploringly, yet with an underlying passion that promises great things. And he really turns me on. How cruel and shameless of me to use him as my warm-up man, but he doesn’t know this and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

I pull away before we both become overly engaged, but he begs a few more moments alone with me which I find hard to refuse. I go into his room, mindful of the fact that the midnight text from Hot Frog is due through at any moment. Not having any pockets in my trousers, my mobile is wedged firmly between my breasts...


lin said...

g'day Wendy.

I bought your 'toyboy diaries' @ the Melbourne airport on Sunday the 13th of January 2008. I liked the your subject even before I started reading & thought, 'I can find some good lines to make a poem here.' So I marked a few likely bits & the first draft is already on urbis. It has stirred up a lively discussion. If you want to see the work in progress it goes under the name of 'family jewels.'

cheers, Lin

lin said...

'the family jewels'

lin said...

I wrote this poem last year.

Mary's Designer Purse

Mary a young nubile nude dancer
with beautiful genital structure
desired a designer vagina.
She said to her plastic surgeon,
'I have excess skin like a cherry
on the rim of my pussy
& I have no financial backer.'
So he generously agreed to take
a free ride before
& after the procedure.
He said,
'most people don't believe me
when I say,
'I absolutely love my work.'
And he repeated the blurb
in his glossy brochure,
'Objectifying yourself
is quickest route
to happiness.'
As Mary never mixed with the customers
her lovely surgeon Joe
gave her a complimentary
double-header special
with gyrating pearls
spinning around
for her sensual pleasure.
So whenever the opportunity presented
she could play tandem with other
performers backstage between breaks.

For solo work her sweet surgeon
supplied her with a discreet toy
called 'Erotique Juicy Cherry'
to keep in her pocket or purse
& insert whenever she felt
a need while dining
or at the movies.
One fine day when waiting
for her beauty treatment
Mary read in Vogue or Vanity Fair,
one of those glossy magazines
with pics of skinny chics,
an item that caught her eye
& stirred her lugubrious imagination.
A brand new really cool naughty toy
especially made for girls & boys
on special offer called,
The cone.
It came in super-soft silicone
with a base diameter thicker
than the span of Mary's slender hand.
Armed with a powerful 3 volt unit
delivering 3000 revs per minute,
an exciting built in program
With vibration, speed, power variation &
frequencies of up to 30 hertz,
all controlled by a clever
little microchip.
Mary cocked her eye, smirked,
flicked her exaggerated ponytail
& said loudly,
'I'm going to buy that little beauty.'
Other ladies in that room crowded
around her to see the photos
of her erotic discovery.
She knew immediately that the cone
would be better than throwing
a sausage down a blind alley.
Mary gave the cone some test runs
then when thoroughly satisfied
she rang her sweet surgeon Joe & said,
'Hey Joe, I know you won't
believe me when I say
I never felt anything
like this before.
This super-soft silicone cone
makes my whole body tingle.
Wow! I now
believe in technology.'

lin said...

hi Wendy,
2nd version of 'family jewels.' I hope it tickles your fancy.

When Wendy,
an antique in the saddle
& partial to toy boys
saw daddylonglegs, clearly dyslexic
bounding up the stairs she said,
‘my mobile vibrated in my handbag.’
Wendy, an absolutely exquisite bitch
with a wishing magnet up her arse
threw her eyes skyward and said,
‘shoving cynicism aside, size matters!’
‘That exquisite elusive dragonfly alighted on me,’ she said,
‘& he immediately began dry humping me hard & fast.’
Wendy always thought short & thick does the trick
but this young lusty lover had the most enormous cock,
the ultimate dummy, a giant lollipop.
Next morning the agonizing ecstasy of internal bruising
was a tough readjustment for her clit-quivering chemistry,
but she thought smiling at her smug image in the mirror,
‘Who needs the wine list if you can get pissed on the dessert.’

‘There was only outside chance of turning this
into something more than a quick shag,’ she said,
on reflection over coffee with her lady friends,
‘I remembered better sex with my wabbit.
That actually makes men totally redundant.’
After their concerned comments she said,
‘thank you kindly for all your eloquent
insightful dissection of the situation.
And no, there are no notches on the bedpost,
that as you know just damages exquisite woodwork.’