Hello all -
My lady friend arrived on schedule late last night. I think she could tell I was feeling badly about something. After she had dropped her bags at the door, she asked me if something was wrong.
I didn't want to tell her about the kitten. I was so ashamed that I had let her down so. But she is a kind sort, and put her arms around me as I began to sob. I became lost in the intoxicating scent of her hair and the graceful curve of her body.
I stammered "it's just.. that I haven't stopped thinking... about grinding your pussy for the last few days."
Then everything went and got ballsed up. Her hand flew to her purse, and back again, whereupon she promptly maced my eyes and kicked me in the bollocks. My world became white light, and I crashed to the ground. Then she stomped me in the teeth as I thrashed around holding my genitals.
The last I remember was being dragged out into the front yard by one ankle and left in my driveway.
I never thought that she would take the death of her kitten so badly. I've got to make it up to her. I may take my acoustic guitar and go to her window tonight. The power of song can't bring back her kitten, but a nice slow rendition of The Diviynls "I Touch Myself" may make her feel a bit better.
I will let all of you know how it turned out. For now, though, my scrote is killing me. I am going to soak in the tub.
God Bless Al Kyder