Sunday, 28 May 2017

My Worst Valentine’s Day. Ever. II

Lay # 2 would be Ashley (the blonde but dull hottie) and I ‘d need to wine and dine her at her favorite elegant restaurant (as typical). Late into dinner, I would look at an “immediate e-mail” on my “Crackberry” and say sorry about having an unanticipated teleconference with a Hong-Kong-based client in 90 minutes, which would require me to go back to the workplace after supper. By then, she would have had sufficient alcohol and romantic V-Day talk for her to go along with my “fallback” for consummating Cupid Day together: I ‘d take her into the restaurant’s perfectly personal and fancy unisex restroom and fuck her between supper and dessert. With adequate wine and appeal, by that point I ‘d most likely have a 60-70% opportunity of scoring Lay # 2. She would definitely be the hardest part of my International Love Day, but I enjoyed the challenge.Lay # 3 was going

to be ghetto-girl Cassandra. After fucking Ashley, who thought I was going back to the office (where I had actually already employed sick), I would take a taxi to East Harlem, get some flowers, wine, and chocolates near Cassandra’s place, and then knock on her door at around 10:30 or11 p.m. (I told her that I wasn’t sure when my Lay # 2 – I suggest my conference call at the office – would end).

Having sex with 3 different ladies, races, income classes, cultures, and worlds – all on Love Day – would be LEGENDARY. To make it even more of a historic Valentine’s Victory, I was getting anal from Lisa and Cassandra (whom I had actually trained and charmed into giving it on a routine basis) and a minimum of doggie from Ashley (who was lastly occurring to my favorite position). If I might do all that on February 14th, it would be a personal finest for me. Something to show my crew for the glory and the laughs, or to cheer up the next friend of mine to get disposed or cheated on.So that was the V-Day dream. Now here’s the problem that ensued. Lay # 1 goes according to strategy and I even get Lisa to talk unclean to me in Cantonese during anal, which was a first for me, and a bit odd – maybe due to the fact that I usually speak Cantonese only with my loved ones. Refraining from doing that again. Anyway, Lay # 1 was an otherwise amazing start to what guaranteed to be my finest Valentine’s ever.But Lay # 2

is where it became my worst Valentine’s ever. I shower from Lay # 1, placed on my Armani fit, and take a taxi from my apartment or condo to the elegant dining establishment to fulfill Lay # 2.

Whatever is going as planned till I see that Ashley has actually hardly touched her wine glass or food after buying the priciest bottle and numerous of the most pricey meals on the menu. As I’m doing the math and understanding that I’m probably going to be stuck to a $ 400 tab for this supper date, I’m aiming to play it cool and find out how when to recommend we go to the bathroom. And just as I will lay on the Yi-Wang-Smooth, I see Lay # 1 and Lay # 3 program up to our table and take the 2 empty seats nearby.Yes, you read that correctly: Lisa and Cassandra have shown up to my dinner date with Ashley. There’s actually no other way to sum up exactly what took place next other than to give you the discussion.” Wh-what are you two doing here

?”I stammered in confused shock.”We sistah’s was havin’a lil

‘fantasy goin’ on. And we was talkin’ about our ideal Valentine’s, thinkin’we had actually all like to get a piece of you on V-Day,” Cassandra said, with vicious swagger.

“Bu-But how do you … How do you even understand each other?” I was really perplexed by this most unfortunate coincidence.

“Now, Narc, I know you is the lawyer here. However we goin’ do the deposition this time. Then you can ask yo’ dumbass questions.”

“Yes,” Lisa chimed in. “We’re asking the concerns first. What does the word ‘anal’ suggest to you?”

This was getting uglier by the minute, I thought. There truly was no simple escape, because we were sitting far from the exit and the waiters knew me from prior supper dates with Ashley and I hadn’t paid the tab yet. Why the hell was Lisa asking exactly what the word “anal” means to me?

“Um, well, I’m a quite anal person – I guess that’s why I work as a legal representative. You know, you have to be really anal to chase after commas throughout the day in various drafts of a business spin-off agreement.”

Lisa continued: “To me, anal suggests a certain degree of intimacy and exclusivity. How about you, Cassandra?”

“Damn straight. Narc ought to understand about exclusivity. ‘Cuz I know a few of ‘dem agreements you writin’ be all about that shit.”

Ashley then joined the fray: “And exactly what does the word ‘dog’ imply to you?”

Like a driver who has lost control of his car, I was bracing for the impending crash. “Well, I have actually told you that I was never ever a huge fan of pets, however I did try to make an exception for your poodle.”

“Yes, and I was never ever a huge fan of doggie, however I made an exception for you too. Somehow you made me feel special – like you deserved it.”

Lisa continued however this time in a hot and suggestive voice that practically offered me a minute of hope: “After you left my place this afternoon, Cassandra provided me a call, and we began talking about how our fantasy for Valentine’s Day was to offer an entire brand-new significance to the words ‘anal’ and ‘doggie’ – you understand, simply to take these things to another level that none people has actually ever experienced.”

If it weren’t for that Cassandra must have never had Lisa’s contact number, that could have seemed like an invite to have a kinky foursome after this disastrous dinner I had to get away. I knew that I was heading into some kind of dreadful trap but I couldn’t resist the curiosity they had actually provoked in me. So I asked Lisa, “What do you mean, take anal and doggy to another level that none people has ever experienced?”

Lisa replied, “Well, this wasn’t so simple to establish. And – as in the sexual context – the anal part was actually a bit trickier than the doggie part, best Ashley?”

“Yeah, I need to get after Jennifer anyhow,” Ashley agreed, referring to her aggravatingly barky white poodle.

“What do you imply?” I asked in dread.Ashley pulled

her distribute of her bag, holding a plastic bag of Jennifer’s poo. “This is doggie!” she stated, hurling the bag of pet dog shit all over the upper body of my Armani fit.

“And this is anal,” Lisa included, tossing her own plastic bag of crap and striking the side of my face. “It’s a bit harder to obtain than doggie, as you understand,” she added.Cassandra added the coup
de grace: “And here’s yo’ second anal, Narc. ‘Cuz I was thinkin’ two anals and a dog on Valentine’s would be the SHIT.” And her bag of shit landed smack in my face.After I took

a 20-minute-dung-removal bird bath in the dining establishment bathroom, paid the $ 400 supper bill, and went out as embarrassingly red as an Asian face can get, I get a text message from Cassandra. “4 a well-read lwyer u sure is a dumbass, plannin VDay on ur fone in my bthrm after u was gettin herbal.”

And after that the complete degree of my arrogant dumbassness struck me. I had scheduled UN Love Day with Lay # 1 and Lay # 2 a few days previously, while I was taking a dump in the restroom of Lay # 3. I did this with my personal cell phone, which – unlike my work Blackberry – had no password on it. I was a bit stoned and drowsy at the time, and forgot my phone in the restroom before Cassandra and I had one more round of sex. Then I was down for the count. However not the lady. And women go to the bathroom. And if your phone is sitting there in the restroom without you and a text message gets here, they will read it, in addition to all of the other text messages. Then you’re actually fucked.After reading

Cassandra’s text, the full level of her revenge-seeking, wicked genius dawned upon me. She deliberately planned to undermine whatever AFTER Lay # 1 (Lisa, in Newark) so that I ‘d believe absolutely nothing and believe V-Day was going as smoothly as planned. Cassandra shrewdly waited up until after Lay # 1 happened prior to telling Lisa what she had actually discovered on my phone. Then the 2 of them plainly conspired with Ashley over all the details of their shitty revenge.The next night, my buddy Sammy (aka “Heeb” )dropped in my office to tell me everything about his best Valentine’s Day ever. After he closed the door, he detailed how he had actually transformed a shit sandwich into an epic rating that left him absolutely victorious. When I then told him about my actual shit sandwich, he was up to the floor laughing in uncontrolled hysteria. So for about 15 minutes, I had this brief, chubby, baldness guy on the carpet of my office shaking in violent laughter and desperately gasping for air. Then he was gloating about the whole thing for weeks after that.Whatever.

I had to let him savor the one time that he trounced me in a sex smackdown – on V-day no less. Approved, I did get some anal however I experienced it as no male ever should. The entire thing made me consistently accept monogamy. For about a week.Needless to state

, that was the shittiest Valentine’s Day of my life. Actually.

Zack Love finished from Harvard College, where he attempted to produce a bachelor’s degree in Females. With the bachelor portion of that degree in hand, he settled in New York City however – to afford leasing his bed-sized studio – found himself flirting primarily with a computer system screen and stacks of documents. Figured out not to pass away a corporate drone, Zack decided to compromise sleep for screenwriting, an active social life, and Internet start-ups offering temporary billion-dollar fantasies.To feed his steady diet plan of NYC night life, he routinely crashed VIP celebrations in the early 2000s and two times bumped into his blossoming crush, a Hollywood starlet. But -much to Zack’s surprise-neither of those awkward conversations caused marriage with the A-list actress. Zack ultimately consoled himself by picturing fiascoes far worse than those involving his celebrity crush. While doing so, he dreamed up a motley gang of 5 men inspired by a few of his college pals and quirky work coworkers. And therefore was born Sex in the Title. But the novel is not autobiographical: Zack never had his 3rd leg attacked by any mammal (nor by any plant, for that matter). In fact, keeping his member safe has been among Zack’s lifelong goals -and one of the few that he’s managed to achieve. campaign

source http://creativedogtrainingonline.com/toy-dog-breed-category/my-worst-valentines-day-ever-ii/

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