L.G. Smith
Yay!!!! L.G., email me at melbwrites@gmail.com and let me know which of my stories you would like. Congratulations!
Now on to my salacious adventure. I went to a very naughty Holiday party this weekend and we had to bring spicy gifts. In order to purchase such titillating items, I went to a rather perverted little store . This place is one block from Chicago's biggest Catholic church. In fact, I could see the cross high atop the steeple as I walked inside. A bit unnerving, if I do say so myself.
Inside, there was the usual assortment of gag gifts like blow job bibs, penis suckers, finger vibes and games like "Who's the Biggest Slut?" "What the Fuck?" bar cards, and Hump: The Game of Erotic Education. There was also bondage accoutrements, handcuffs, whips, riding crops and restraints. What got me as I was looking at the selections, the song "Have A Holly, Jolly Christmas" came on over the loud speaker. Followed by "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." I am never going to listen to these songs in the same way again. This place also had booths. You know the kind, back of the store through the beaded curtain and/or swinging door. A few men came in to partake of the visual aids when they noticed me standing mere feet from their afternoon solo flights. They immediately started shuffling around, trying to find something to do until I left. But, I stayed. They kept looking at me, looking at the swinging doors, looking at me, looking at...You get the picture. Finally I just stared right back at them and said "Go ahead, I'm not an undercover nun or anything." It was a stampede, I tell you. ;)
Oh and in case you were wondering, I bought a riding crop and a sexual positions coupon booklet and some flavored massage oil. It went over very well at the Naughty Holiday Party grab bag.
