Life is like a box of chocolates.
Superficially it all looks good but you know you are going to put something nasty into your mouth eventually.
So it came to pass.
There I am giving a friendly ‘how you do’ blow job when he fills my mouth with just about the worst cum I’ve ever tasted.
To say it tasted gross would be an understatement.
I’d love to say that I handled the whole situation with some decorum.
I spat it out onto his rather natty brogues.
It just goes to show that you can never judge a man by his superior footwear.
But isn’t that what we always do?
Oh look at him!
He’s a ruide!
I bet he’s legge in bed!
Experience has shown me that munters tend to be the real rides in bed.
On account of having to compensate for their looks.
(I’m a freak: Hot and nasty).
It’s even happened to me.
I was once told that I look rather intimidating.
Oh my aunt Fanny!
I’ve never heard anything so silly!
When I enquired why, I was informed it was due to my beat up looks.
Playing rugby for 25 years will leave the odd scar or two.
But left me looking straight!
Talk about shock and awe.
I immediately booked in for a facial, manicure and pedicure.
Not that kind of facial!
So I’m taking it upon myself to engage in some personal improvement.
No more judging a book by it’s cover.
No longer will I think: he looks very plain, I bet he’s a chaser.
Or, look at that nun, I bet she’s a rug muncher.
The new me will me slower to judge.
And will look fabulously gay at all times!