Sexy Time, Symdaddy style

Hello hello hello! Yes, it IS Sexy Time again.  And I have something special for you.  But before I get to the good stuff, I have a favor.  I have a friend in the Madison WI area looking for local support.  Hit me up in comments if you can lead me in the right direction, would you? My guest poster today has jumped the pond to share his little tale.  He has my kind of humor and I look forward to seeing his comments each time I post.

Please give a warm welcome to George from Symdaddy Journal But do be careful. He’s partial to chocolate cake, will drink your beer and may try on your panties while you’re not home.  Yes, he may be my brother from another mother.

Sexy Time Man-Style

The door slammed.

“WOMAN!” screamed Homer as he threw his coat over the banister. “Get out here and drop ‘em!”

Marge, his wife, walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a tea towel. “You what?” she snarled.

“C’mon babes … drop ‘em.  I want some ‘nicies’”

“Not a chance.  I’ve got dinner to make and kids the need to be taken to the movies” she spat at him.

“C’mon babes! The game kicks off in twenty minutes and it’ll only take me two minutes. You’ll be back in the kitchen in no time at all.”

“NO!”

“Aw babes!  Daddy wanna go ‘wabbiting’. Been finking ‘bout it aaaaaall day”, he said putting on his best impression of a four year old.

Looking at her watch she relented and said “OK, but be quick!”

She dropped ‘em and bent over the sofa. She silently thanked God knitting, which she was sure was invented for times like these.

There was a sensation of movement behind her, followed quickly by a thrust that made her drop a stitch.

“A-ha!” she thought, “the terrier is in the warren”.

Heavy breathing and the occasional slap on her butt were the only indications that Homer was still there.

“Oh yeah, baby! Oh yeah! There we go. Another line finished. Soon have this ‘juniors’ sweater finished” she said over her shoulder.

“Uuuuugh, aaaah, yeah! Uuuuunnnnnnnnngggggghhhhhhh!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” he said and flopped onto the floor.

“Well?” she asked. “Can I get on with dinner now?”

“Sure” came the out of breath reply. “Thanks babes!  You earned yourself another tube of strawberry flavoured cock lube”.

“Gee! Thanks!” she said, as she dribbled her way towards the bathroom.

Thanks George. Really.

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