"What’s next on the list?"
"Sex with a woman between 18 and 20…"
"That sounds cool."
"Nothing new there…"
"…a woman no more distantly related to you than second cousin…"
"It’s like this, dear. When my friends found out you were a sissy, they all wanted some of your ass."
See more at http://yesmrs.tumblr.com/.
If you don’t follow Mrs. Kort, I’m going to spank you. Except you, Susan. You I’m going to spank because you’re following Mrs. Kort.
"Ana and I started our jobs the same day, both of us working for Mrs. Compton. At first I thought it was a little strange that everyone who worked for Mrs. Compton was female. But later I learned that this wasn’t at all an accident.
"Mrs. Compton believes in mentoring her new employees. I’m pretty sure that her idea of mentoring doesn’t match the corporate handbook, but I’ve talked to other women she’s mentored and I’m impressed with how far they’ve gone up the corporate ladder. So I’m willing to go with unconventional.
"I just wish she didn’t pick me for the discipline and Ana for the paddler so much. I keep trying to be a better employee. But sometimes it always winds up with me over Ana’s lap. Not the other way ‘round."
"Well, Mom, here’s the thing. You sent me to an all girls college. Did you really think I was going to meet a nice boy there?”
Yeah, technically, its sexual harassment. And no way in hell I could tell my husband what my boss is doing to me. But its not like she makes me do anything to her. And damn she knows what she’s doing with a pussy. So, no, I’m not going to say anything.
Besides, sometimes I wish she did make me do something for her.
"Oh my god, this really is your first time here isn’t it? You really are a lesbirgin. Do you even know what goes on here? Let me guess, your ‘friend’ brought you along. Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you. So much fun."
I don’t know any more. You tell me. What do I have to do to get my daughter into that school? I slept with the kindergarten teacher and her husband. I went down on the Principal’s very hairy cunt four goddamn times. And I let the vice Principal pee all over me. And still my goddamn application is “on hold.”
It was well known on campus that if a girl needed an A in a class, Sandra Wellensky, in the registrar’s office could make it happen, without regard to how well you were actually doing in the class.
What was not quite so well known was that Ms. Wellensky had certain standards a girl needed to achieve with her before she would hack the records.
This was the picture my wife sent me to tell me — while I was deployed for six months on the nuke-missile sub — that she was pregnant. I got it when we finally surfaced, headed home, somewhere in the South Pacific.
"Clearly, its not mine," I emailed back. "But who’s is it?"
"Not sure," she said. "Maybe Joaquin. Maybe Carlos. Maybe Ben-Jarvis. Does it matter?"
After my boyfriend and I announced our engagement, my soon-to-be mother-in-law sent Karl and his father off for the day, and invited me over. “We need to get our relationship off on the right foot,” she told me ahead of time.
The day of, she had another simple statement for you. “My place,” she said, “is on a pedestal. Your place, is on your knees.”
Believe me, no one was more surprised than I was to find me riding off on that Harley that first day, my arms wrapped around the leather clad biker chick. I mean, I’d never met anyone straighter, more conservative or more boring than I was.
But the adventures have never ended. And even if I go with without a shower a few days in a row, I’m never going back. Hell, going without a shower seems to get me more head with Sabrina, not less.
At first I was mad that my sister-in-law, Pam, got preggers at the same time I did. But as our months progressed and our husband’s showed us less and less attention, Pam showed me a new way of looking at my pregnancy. And lots of other things.