A later arrival than planned on...

A later arrival than planned on Monday night (middle of the first quarter) meant I only saw ATF Vanessa for a peck on the cheek as she left. Surveying the rather slim pickings on that night's shift I locked in on a brunette girl-next-door type with a great smile, flirtacious manner, good sized naturals, and a few more pounds than ideal around the hips but nothing some time in the gym wouldn't cure. So off went went to the back room, expecting a good time.

Unfortunately, once the door closed, she seemed mainly intent on ripping my dick out by its roots. Wincing in pain, I excused myself after one song and staggered away with the verse about swimming across Turtle Creek from Chuck Berry's "My Ding-a-Ling" running through my head. ("Both hands holdin' on to my ding-a-ling".)

The young lady (I'll omit her name) needs to learn that, at least for us grown-ups, the industrial-strength hand job belongs no earlier than the third set. Some teasin' & pleasin' will go a long way toward keeping us in your company longer, which also keeps those $30 installment payments flowing.