Monday, November 21, 2005

Stroking someone else’s pussy

My downstairs neighbor requested something unusual from me this weekend.

“Hey, I don’t know if you are gonna be around this week, but I’ll reward you with beer and tequila if you take care of my pussy.”

“Well I’ve never done that before” I thought. My unusually high cell phone bills this month HAVE eaten into my beer budget….. soooo, I GUESS I could give it a shot. “What do I have to do EXACTLY?”

“All you have to do is give it some love. Once every two days is enough, but everyday is better. You can stroke it a little when you come home from work. That would be fine.”

I told my neighbor I would do it. Now, I’ve never really understood cats…. there have been a few I have grown to love, but I never knew if they loved me back. Because here is my theory…. Cats are the players of the animal kingdom. They shower you with attention and affection, and just as you think you are getting close, moments later they act like they don’t know you. They move onto their next conquest. Then all of a sudden you are sitting there, smoking a cigarette, black eyeliner running down your cheeks, voice trembling…. “what does that cardboard box have that I don’t?”

So today after work I approached “Grandpa” with caution. He meowed sadly from my neighbor’s kitchen as I fumbled around with the keys. As soon as I walked in, he twirled around my ankles and rubbed against my legs….. but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I fed him and stroked him like my neighbor wished, but kept myself detached from the moment by reading the mail and drinking my free beer while I did it. I robotically stroked and stroked, but just as I was about to examine the new take-out pizza menu, Grandpa let out this amazing purr. It was this deep and long vibration. It was so calming to pleasure another being so easily like that…. it would be heartless to stop. So I picked Grandpa up and took him to the porch for a change of scenery. We cuddled on the porch with a Corona and listened to and watched the rain come down. With each second I got more comfortable and slouched deeper into the couch. Grandpa’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he did this weird wiggly thing with his ears. I think that meant he liked it. And just as I was thinking about how I was enjoying this perfect little wholesome moment of my day…. Grandpa decided he was bored with me. He got up and ran after some wet pussy… otherwise known as Sophia, the block's “cat slut” to go dumpster diving.


3 Comments:

At 3:06 PM, Anonymous Rockstar said...

Nice deceptive title.

I just read about a cat with my pants around my ankles at work.

Rockstar

 
At 6:47 PM, Anonymous John! said...

I get more of an elitist vibe from cats. Like, they think they're better than everybody and everything. If they do in fact deem you worthy of their company, they'll only let you know their appreciativeness in very small doses and when it suits them (when they want some of your dinner, for example). Otherwise, they stand off on their own, glowering at the inferior world around them and basking in their own personal awesomeness.
Damn. I love cats.

 
At 8:29 PM, Blogger Fly said...

I haven't gotten to know Grandpa at all, but I admit I fell for that slut Sophia once. I didn't get hurt though. I knew soon enough I'd leave her outside...where she belonged.

And eventually, I would return to my dog, my tigga, because ultimately that’s where I belong.

Pussies and bitches - they are like two sides of a really good woman. The pussy gets your attention without any huffing or barking. And when its time to satisfy (or be satisfied) there is nothing like a really good pussy on your lap.

But bitches...bitches man. They will nag you constantly, never stop yapping, but when things get tough, they’re always there to make you smile. And like my dog Tupac said, "A good bitch will never leave your side, because a good bitch is the one that's always down to ride."

(Pointless comments courtesy of Mr. Fly)

 

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