Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Collision course

Curled up with our respective electronic devices, chatting through an open door, He turns around and says do you know where Hobbit is? Um no.... the last time one searched for him he was nowhere to be found. See the truth is somewhere in the last seven years or so, one sort of mislaid Hobbit. And it was not an easy thing to do. Several moves, an ex (whom he was very fond of) dying and work and... You get the idea. In fact when she died one did try to contact him without success and a couple of years ago one sniffed around the net, also without success.

Hmm was the reply. Clickety, click, tappety, tap... he is living on a pacific island called out the voice. Well he was a couple of years ago... 92... might still be alive... more clicking. Yep he is... Want his phone number? Sure. Out He pops from the office, bearing a piece of paper and looking smug. They are on the same time zone... give him a call.

Looking at the proffered piece of paper, a number of thoughts went through one’s mind. Gladness that Hobbit was still alive after all these years.  Admiration for the sheer chutzpah of the man... bloody well living on an island! Arsy prick! Wondering what had happened to the lady he was last with... a story in her own right... aren’t they all. And a tinge of... sadness... gladness? Still not sure.

Well aren’t you going to phone him? Yes, but... a glance at the clock... it will be his afternoon nap time. No need to scare the old ferret quite like that. Besides didn’t you make a better offer? Something a little more immediate and sexual? He looked momentarily taken aback... He would love to meet Hobbit and they would get on... things in common and knowing him... He is the nosiest person on earth... one will be lucky to get five minutes on the phone, before being shuffled to one side so He can find out more about one small slave when she was young.

Fortunately He did remember the prior offer, and whisked one off to bed to try out that other red toy. He had a wonderful time seeing if He could get the arse to gape... honestly sex sometimes feels like a porn shoot round here... and then driving the toy back in. Taking the toy out and inserting himself to see what if felt like when it was that relaxed and open... shoving the toy back in. Eventually He tired of it and shoving it in as far as it would go, He allowed one to have a wonderful orgasm while He simultaneously fucked one in the cunt.

Later as one lay there still a bit buzzed, He went back to the computer... What is your mother’s last name? That killed the buzz... one lost her deliberately and it was a perfectly mutual decision. Um you won’t find her... she will be ex-directory. The sounds of industrious clicking carried into the bedroom. Well she is still working... dear gods she has to be 69... in fact she is teaching at X. Her registration is due later this year... still a specialty teacher. Sure you don’t want the schools number? Groans some things are best left in the past :(

2 comments:

Biddable said...

I rather envy you your lost mother. I still find myself obliged to deal with mine on a regular basis.

Master's piece said...

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