Today was my induction day at the hospital, which means that my classmates and I were subjected to near 7 hours of fist-eatingly dull lectures. During lunch break, I went to the ward I have been assigned to collect my off duty, and to show my face. When I returned to the cafeteria, some friends and I were comparing some of the pictures taken on our phones. Mine are quite dull, a couple of Lori in Starbucks, my grandad, whatever. The girls have what all girls have, pictures of their "GIRLZZZZZZ" on a night out, dressed up as angels, bunnies, cats, in school uniform etc. You may be wondering where this is going, but stick with it, the pay off is worth it. Anyway, as we went around the table, one guy was quite excited to share his pictures, saying he got some great shots this weekend, so we crowded around his phone for a peek, expecting to see pictures of him and his mates taking advantage of a drunken friend (with chicken wings perhaps?). Instead we were treated to some pics of his girlfriend, one minute she was sitting petting his dog smiling for the camera, the next, she had a mouthful of cock.
I shit you not.
Smiling one minute, fellating the next. It was a pure car wreck, knowing that you shouldn't be looking, but for some reason unable to turn away. All manner of angles and acts were explored, both parties took photos, and every inch of anatomy accounted for. I didn't know quite what to do afterwards, give him a high five (I did, afterall, know where his hands had been), congratulate him, what? Its one thing to hear rumblings through walls, floors or doors, its another thing entirely to actually see hard(core) physical evidence. Also, does your relationship with a guy change because you've seen him with a raging hard-on? Normally it wouldn't, but the fact that he carries a picture of it around, does that make any difference? I, for one, don't carry around a picture of my wang, but I've got a lovely arm pit in my wallet.....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment