The other day I had a need to bake some cookies. Without a decent cookie sheet, I took the necessary trip to the store--mere steps from my house. Whilst passing the local Chinese place, some guy whistled that classic whistle. You know, the one that goes "wheeeet wheeeew!"
I turned around, saw the dude looking at me, and gave him the big, unmistakable
finger.
Yet, he persisted, mumbled, almost incoherently--even sheepishly-- "I wanna lick your pussy. . . "
I held The Finger until I entered the store. Feeling relief, I carried forth on my mission, and obtained the necessary baking implement.
I turned around, saw the dude looking at me, and gave him the big, unmistakable
finger.
Yet, he persisted, mumbled, almost incoherently--even sheepishly-- "I wanna lick your pussy. . . "
I held The Finger until I entered the store. Feeling relief, I carried forth on my mission, and obtained the necessary baking implement.
Upon payment, I wondered if said jerk-off reamined outside. He had, apparently, taken his spring rolls and split, but not without an extra-awesome serving of my finger.
--anna
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