The lost jacket, what not to say during sex, and the best cookie ever

Today a cautionary tale – when fucking R from behind on the edge of his bed, he, for reasons quite unknown (unless idle hands really are the devil’s playthings), picks up his cat who was apparently snoozing beside the bed, lifts the poor creature above his head and declares – while I am deep inside him –  ‘this is my other pussy’. I then came eye to eye with a bemused and very disapproving Pussy; there was judgment in those feline eyes. Pussy knew I was a slut and I knew he knew it. We are taught from an early age that words matter. They can inspire, seduce, amuse, wound, or in this case severely hinder an erection. I had to resort to my go to fantasy of being a locker room towel for a South American soccer team to maintain my rhythm. I breathed deep and tried in vain to shake Pussy’s expression from my mind. Pussy was by this time back under the bed and purring loudly like a food processor. He was intentionally trying to distract me; he was a worthy adversary this Pussy.  After intense focus and meditation, success was achieved and I bolted. In my haste to leave both Pussys, I forgot my favorite early autumn black jacket. It was suitable to wear to dinner or a hook up. It had accompanied me into many hotel rooms and bars and was like an old friend. I could not bring myself to go back for it so it may still reside in Pussy’s lair. Well played, Pussy. Well played.

After fucking a guy who shows me his pet during sex, I take solace in a simple pleasure – chocolate chip cookies. The most amazing cookie I have ever eaten came from a coffee shop in Louisville Ky called Please and Thank You. Forget everything you know about cookies – this cookie is a culinary revelation.  If you happen to reside in the area or just passing through, don’t miss out in this delectable treat. And don’t talk about cats during sex. Ever.

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