I tried the first idea, silently mouthing "Britney, Britney... Paris, Paris..." That kept me going for a bit. Then I remembered someone had sent me the link to a website that listed all the celebrities who enjoyed rear action. That had become an intriguing fantasy - some distinctly classy ladies who liked to be worshipped in their little secret passage, spunk in their angel-shit. (Butter wouldn't melt, as Marlon put it.)By now I too had lost track of time, but I was also finding a strange thing. This was actually not turning out to be a duty at all. I found I was getting a serious kick out of turning this ball-breaker into a real woman of loving passions. Couldn't believe that it was suddenly all mine, the intimacy of her stockinged feet, her forbidden fleshy buttocks, the scent of her hair, the strong square shoulders, the surprisingly pretty bosom, now revealed for the first time, the voice softening into lovingness... No longer was I having to fantasize about showbiz beauties. I. "I rubbed my hand across his chest, then down his tummy and past the patch of hair. "Oh, my, I think I found one. He feels pretty scrawny, though. Wait a minute. I think he's growing a bit. Maybe some artificial respiration will help."It did.It seemed like a normal Wednesday morning. The alarm clock went off, Bozo was waiting to get let out, the coffee was ready. It was also the first morning since we'd been here that I felt we needed the heater on. I went to the thermostat and studied it. It's one of those new energy saving thermostats. I'm convinced the reason they call it energy saving is that it's almost impossible to figure out how to turn it on. I was able to get it going by setting the daytime temperature to 90. I figured I could turn it off after it warmed up enough.The apartment was nice and toasty by the time I came out of the bathroom. That's the nice thing about living in a small place like ours; you don't have to use a lot of energy to heat it up. I flipped the switch on.
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