I deserve a booty CALL.
You had a playful screen name. I was horny and feeling particularly slutty. You sent me a picture in your Marine uniform. I was turned on. You asked for my address. I gave you a day and time.
You showed up on time. I was completely impressed. You were nicely dressed, you looked like your picture, and you did not care that I was bringing in garbage cans when you came up the driveway (I really had not expected you to be on time).
We went upstairs and I overlooked your weird obsession with having the door shut (despite the fact that we were alone) while we were having sex. I quickly forgot about this when I saw that you were huge, which was a fantastic surprise! You were a great lover. The bonus came when you got the hell out of my room in a timely fashion.
We hooked up once or twice more. Then you started to miss our appointments. When you missed the second one, I got the message. I was sad to say goodbye to your huge cock but, hey, that's the way it goes. I moved on with my life without much sentimentality.
Then, one October day, I was watching "I Love Lucy" with my boyfriend when the doorbell rang. There you were at the door! I was astonished. You were everything that I remembered and I was a little flattered that you had come back after all this time. I kissed your cheek and I told you that it was not a good time. I thanked you for coming by and I sent you on your way. I thought that would be the last of you (especially since you had to drive an hour to get to my house).
Then about a month ago, my doorbell rang again. I was in the bathroom and about to get in the shower. I considered not answering the door but then I thought that it might by the meter reader. Since I have a crystallized glass front door, I knew that whoever it was would see my movement. I looked through the peephole and there you were. This time, I was pissed that you were at my door.
YOU FUCKER, YOU HAVE MY FUCKING PHONE NUMBER AND MY E-MAIL ADDRESS. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME A HEADS UP IF YOU ARE COMING OVER. Fucking asshole.
I opened the door because I knew that you had seen me. I was in my ugly robe, unwashed, but with minty fresh breath (I had just finished brushing my teeth). I opened the door to tell you to piss off. I was determined not to sleep with you.
Despite my best intentions and my most righteous indignation, damn it, you would not be denied. You brought up being a Marine (which, while I despise the military, I find hot); you were gainfully employed (in case we had a future ...); and you were nicely dressed (no woman can resist a well dressed man). So we ended up sleeping together and it was fantastic again!
Now, before we slept together, you asked if I had a condom. I did not. Afterward, you said, "Well, I hope that I don't hear from someone in eighteen years saying, 'Hi, Dad.'" I can only hope that you do not show up unannounced on my doorstep for the next eighteen years. I hate surprises as much as you apparently do.
For Christ's sake, in the future, if you want to fuck, give me a call first. I know that I have not been the paragon of resistance but a heads up would be nice. Most girls balk at a booty call; I am asking for one. ::sighs::
The moral of the story: No matter what women say, a big cock gets you a lot of leeway.