Slumdoggin'

I could barely function at work Monday because I spent 4.5 hours having my brains fucked out by M. Night Shyamalamadingdong's doppleganger Sunday night. My first excursion with him, in my van two nights prior, was but a mere warm up.

Yes, I did just say 4.5 hours. That's a long time to do the things we were doing. I shouldn't be able to walk yet but thanks to the amazing cushioning powers of foreskin, I'm able to stand fully upright.

Perhaps it isn't just English men but foreign men in general that do it for me. I've always thought a lot of Indian men were extremely good looking. Turns out they have a lot of stamina to boot. I always heard they have tiny dicks. That's just some crazy nonsense right there. It wasn't tiny. Not at all. Not even a bit.

Best lulz so far this week: talking on the phone with my BFF Monday when she was having lunch with her standard issue American boyfriend.

"C and I are at the Indian place on (insert name of overdeveloped street in Fort Worth here)".
"You're having what kind of food?"
"Indian. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"
"Really? I went on a 4.5 hour Indian binge last night. I love Indian!"

Then there was lots of cackling laughter.

I'm unsure where things are going with my Desi boy. He thinks I'm the hottest thing on two legs and we did know each other a couple of months before we go to the point of 4.5 hours of almost continuous penetrative sex.

Yes, I did just say that.

There's far more there than physical elements though those are freaking awesome in their own right.

I also feel like I should write a song or a poem about foreskin because I just love it that much. I'm not that motivated right now so I'm just going to post a stupid graphic.