Day In Day Out – Sunday

Did my 24 laps of NSA satisfaction this morning, followed by solar irradiation, watching  urchins splash around, while their respective Rubensian MILFS put up their hair and slid into the hot tub—their cushioned butts puffing out around flower print bikinis. Nothing quite like a swimming pool in an RV park. There’s a sequence:  toddlers arrive, bobbing around moms, then the tweens, followed by teen queens, a hierarchy of sexual maturity or experience. The MILFIES flaunting and flirting like chrome, double-spooned fishing lures. Erections are uncool in this setting, their hubbies hang out, pretending interest; store memories for later possibilities. Walking home, I came upon the blond nymph, who stays, sometimes, in the big 5th wheel opposite my RV, usually I see her when she comes out to smoke a cigarette, standing there, dressed in a pink, cotton mini-dress.

“Hi, D, nice to see you…” (subtext: I’d like to fuck you blind)

Big smile. “Hi, thanks, nice to see you, too.” (I’m ready when you are.)

“I really missed you around here the last few days. Nice to see you back.” (Damn, gotta be soon…)

“Did you really?” (I’m looking forward to it.)

“God yes! I’ve had to go online to find the inspiration for my fantasies.” (I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.)

Laughs. (I like the image.)

“Never as satisfying, you know…” (Throw away line in lieu of proposition.)

“No, I didn’t…” (You gotta ask me for what you want, dude.)

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