hevan..so what do you think..ahh..i get it..jelous huh?

Imagine New York in mid-winter. That’s how cold my sex life is. And no, I wasn’t one of those ex-model reject from the seventees. I was the it girl. And yet, here I am, soaked to my skin with hot dreams with no mocca insight. God knows what happenned to all the Starbucks! Guess the neverending snowstorm sort of block the road. Jeez! I wish I could stuck my fingers in the light sockets and not die!
“Anyway, I was having this fucking good dream for a change and my mom woke me up..I can’t believe!”
“So did you do him in?”
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Oh, you know what I mean..”
“Sometimes you amazes me.”
“I know darling..I know..”
“Oh fuck you!”
“Always!”
“Touche!”
“How long has it been since...you know..not that I’m counting or anything..still..”
“Just say it ...you bitch!”
“Rough estimate..based on your looks...”
“Touche...”
“Six?”
“Months?”
“Aha!” she nodded, elegantly stuffing her overpriced lips with carrot sticks.
“Honestly?” I said, looking excruciating demure.. “three..”
“What do you mean three? You don’t look like a three to me..noticed your overstuffed purse?”
“Years darling..years...that’s how lonely I am..”
“Lonely? Not that I am a prude or anything..but may I asked..being curious as I am..”
“Oh fuck you!” and honestly, I feel exactly like that! Uhhh..does that make me something else? I wonder..if I should walk down that road..
“Imagine that! To think that I drag you around town...”
“You dragging me around town?”
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Last I remember, I saw something sticking out of your panties!”
“Thanks..that was like the best day of my life..and yes..thank you for being such a good friend..”
“Always darling..always..”
“So what happened to that leather jeans from last night?” Seriously, I could almost see her blushing. Then again, I rather blame it on her cracking foundation. Jane blushing? That would be a miracle!
“Why are you so hung up on love anyway? I mean...just get it over and done with! Just look at how slim I am..,” came the quick cue before I could indulge in my fantasy. Ehm...why do I feel like such a dog? Too well trained huh?
“You point being?”
“Stop being such a prune!”
“All you need to complete your assemble is a slogan..something cute..I see..numbers? Or buy one get one free?”
“Do I look offensive to you?” she asked, thrusting her breasts out. Five pounds I think and yeah, if we are not in a russian tea room I’ll be more then happy distribuiting her numbers to all passerbys. Ehm..maybe I could pay the neighbourhood kids to do that and still pretend to be the dog. How times flies...