But my reference about being good with her tongue was meant to be in regard to speech, not how well she can lick a pair of balls.
Which is quite impressive.
Rolling over in the opposite direction occurs alongside my investigating, “What are you looking for?”
“A letter opener.”
“Why would there be a letter opener?”
“It’s a desk,” she announces and returns to her frantic scouring.
“It’s a dresser.”
“It’s a desk dresser.”
“Eso no existe.”
“It is a thing.”
Landing on my feet does not happen nearly as smoothly as it did for Salay.Not having hands for balance or practice maneuvering my restrained frame or the ability to find my center of gravity on a moving yacht results in me clumsily stumbling headfirst into the nearest wall.“Fuck!”
“The Ocean Goddesses are reminding you to be nice to me.”
Groaning in discomfort precedes me turning to face her.“Why do you assume you’re gonna find a letter opener?”
“Bougie peoplealwayshave one.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh,” she briefly pauses her actions a second time, “what’s on your office desk in Spike Village, Mr.Attorney at Law?”
Nope.
Not gonna answer that.
Not gonna give her additional evidence that her annoying theory has a bit of merit.
“Pleading the 5th?”
“Pleading to know what you need it for.”
“To help get that tape off of you.”Her hand begins pulling open the top drawers.“It’s wrapped too tight to just unravel it,plus,” she moves onto the next one, “any type of weapon is better than no type of weapon.”
Fair point.
Again.
Not gonna say that out loud.
She doesn’t need my praise, nor does she believe it when I give it outside of the bedroom.
“And what do ya know?”One swift turn reveals to me her found treasure.“A letter opener.”
I offer her a mirthful grin.“Want a marg?”
“Two.”Sauntering towards me precedes her triumphantly smiling.“When we get out of this shitshow you owe metwo.” An eyebrow waggle occurs before she whirls her finger around.“Show me that ass, Garcia.”
Facing away from her allows for a surprisingly quick cut, and I’m grateful for it.
