02-18-2002, 06:32 PM
Ikeaboy: Hello, Kittengirl. What do you look like?
Kittengirl: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36C-24-36. What do you look like?
Ikeaboy: I'm 5'8" and about 190 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells funny.
Kittengirl: I want you. Would you like to make love?
Ikeaboy: OK.
Kittengirl: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.
Ikeaboy: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.
Kittengirl: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Ikeaboy: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.
Kittengirl: I'm moaning softly.
Ikeaboy: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Kittengirl: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.
Ikeaboy: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.
Kittengirl: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.
Ikeaboy: I'll pay for it.
Kittengirl: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.
Ikeaboy: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?
Kittengirl: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Ikeaboy: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.
Kittengirl: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.
Ikeaboy: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!
Kittengirl: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.
Ikeaboy: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.
Kittengirl: What?
Ikeaboy: I'm so sorry. Really.
Kittengirl: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.
Ikeaboy: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a soggy plop.
Kittengirl: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.
Ikeaboy: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Kittengirl: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Ikeaboy: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.
Kittengirl: What's the matter?
Ikeaboy: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.
Kittengirl: Are you OK?
Ikeaboy: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.
Kittengirl: Can I help?
Ikeaboy: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Kittengirl: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Ikeaboy: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.<>
Kittengirl: Come back to me, lover.
Ikeaboy: I'm washing the cup now.
Kittengirl: I'm on the bed arching for you.
Ikeaboy: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?
Kittengirl: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Ikeaboy: I found it.
Kittengirl: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.
Ikeaboy: Me too.
Kittengirl: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-- our naked bodies pressing each other.
Ikeaboy: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Kittengirl: Why don't you take off your glasses?
Ikeaboy: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.
Kittengirl: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Ikeaboy: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.
Kittengirl: Hurry back, lover.
Ikeaboy: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.
Kittengirl: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.
Ikeaboy: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!
Kittengirl: What's the matter now?
Ikeaboy: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.
Kittengirl: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Ikeaboy: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.
Kittengirl: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Ikeaboy: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.
Kittengirl: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!
Ikeaboy: I'm flaccid.
Kittengirl: What?
Ikeaboy: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.
Kittengirl: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face
Ikeaboy: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner's all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.
Kittengirl: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.
Ikeaboy: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.
Kittengirl: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.
Ikeaboy: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.
Kittengirl: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!
Ikeaboy: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
Kittengirl: logged off
Kittengirl: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36C-24-36. What do you look like?
Ikeaboy: I'm 5'8" and about 190 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells funny.
Kittengirl: I want you. Would you like to make love?
Ikeaboy: OK.
Kittengirl: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.
Ikeaboy: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.
Kittengirl: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Ikeaboy: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.
Kittengirl: I'm moaning softly.
Ikeaboy: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Kittengirl: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.
Ikeaboy: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.
Kittengirl: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.
Ikeaboy: I'll pay for it.
Kittengirl: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.
Ikeaboy: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?
Kittengirl: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Ikeaboy: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.
Kittengirl: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.
Ikeaboy: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!
Kittengirl: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.
Ikeaboy: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.
Kittengirl: What?
Ikeaboy: I'm so sorry. Really.
Kittengirl: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.
Ikeaboy: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a soggy plop.
Kittengirl: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.
Ikeaboy: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Kittengirl: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Ikeaboy: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.
Kittengirl: What's the matter?
Ikeaboy: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.
Kittengirl: Are you OK?
Ikeaboy: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.
Kittengirl: Can I help?
Ikeaboy: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Kittengirl: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Ikeaboy: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.<>
Kittengirl: Come back to me, lover.
Ikeaboy: I'm washing the cup now.
Kittengirl: I'm on the bed arching for you.
Ikeaboy: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?
Kittengirl: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Ikeaboy: I found it.
Kittengirl: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.
Ikeaboy: Me too.
Kittengirl: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-- our naked bodies pressing each other.
Ikeaboy: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Kittengirl: Why don't you take off your glasses?
Ikeaboy: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.
Kittengirl: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Ikeaboy: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.
Kittengirl: Hurry back, lover.
Ikeaboy: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.
Kittengirl: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.
Ikeaboy: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!
Kittengirl: What's the matter now?
Ikeaboy: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.
Kittengirl: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Ikeaboy: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.
Kittengirl: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Ikeaboy: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.
Kittengirl: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!
Ikeaboy: I'm flaccid.
Kittengirl: What?
Ikeaboy: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.
Kittengirl: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face
Ikeaboy: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner's all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.
Kittengirl: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.
Ikeaboy: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.
Kittengirl: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.
Ikeaboy: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.
Kittengirl: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!
Ikeaboy: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
Kittengirl: logged off