I was killing some time so I thought I’d check up on those websites that speculate about sex bloggers who should hook up.
Being a gambling man, I decided to go for the ones that play the odds.
Sure enough, there it was again: big payouts on Jefferson and Madeline living happily ever after. I placed a few bets and then thought, what the heck, I would check in on Madeline’s blog.
I try to do that now and then. As writers go, you know, she’s all right.
I found some nice stuff about me—blah, blah, blah—and then I saw a really hot Hanukkah photograph.
I dropped a line. Hey, how’s it going, long time, I wrote. Did you know I’m looking for sexy holiday-themed pictures from readers of my blog? I asked if she wanted to contribute something.
She said she might be persuaded, but she had a few conditions. I said I’d do my best to meet them. I mean, she’s always good for some hot snaps, so why not?
Here’s how it went down.
My darling Jefferson,
Should I grant you permission to use my ass on your blog, my conditions are thus:
The post shall include a link to my brilliant blog.
This would be her blog, her blog, her brilliant blog.
The text shall be the most exultant endorsement of my body and make reference to how hot I look in knee socks. Over-the-knee socks.
Let there be no question: Madeline is easy on the eyes, but man, you get your mitts on that bag of bones and you have joined a very happy bunch of boys and girls. A very happy bunch.
A bunch.
I think those are my socks, actually.
It shall be clear, to anyone who reads, that you prize that brilliant creature Madeline, about whom you have been silent these past eighteen months.
Has it really been so long since I wrote about Madeline? I hadn’t noticed, but I guess it has. Gee, how time flies. Well, I think I have some stories around here. Maybe I should dust off a few.
I shall review the post prior to publication. If it meets my approval, I shall allow you to publish it. Think of it as your gift to me.
Happy Hanukkah to us, Mad.
If these conditions are not met, I shall tell everyone how fat you are.
I’m built for comfort, baby, not for speed.
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The life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
When told by my wife that our fifteen-year relationship was over, I found that everything in my life was upended. I took solace when friends and family pointed out I was no longer responsible for her personal happiness, just my own—and that of my four children.
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
12 comments:
Those socks are hot. I'm amused the dreidls share the bed with the Rock Chick. :-D
And it is about fucking time you wrote about our lovely girlfriend.
That's two references to you being fat this week. In fact, that was my first thought when I walked in your door. "Gee - I didn't realize that Jefferson was so fat...". (Not really!)
*Hugs* Jen
dreidls, vibes, nipple clamps.... maybe I have had hanukah all wrong these years.
I just wanted to second that she does, in fact, look very hot in the knee socks. :)
I read the title "payouts" and cringed. You see, in my line of work, I have to handle prize claims. So you're a gambler, I learned something new today. Unfortunately in our department we don't have access to comps and all that luxurious stuff.
I love the socks!
I'm not actually a gambler, Chrissy. For that matter, those are not actually my socks and I'm not actually fat.
But I ain't dead yet, so perhaps I'll find time for all I have yet to experience.
If you ever figure out how to embezzle those comps, honey, give me a holler.
these pictures allow me to play my favorite game:
how many sex toys do madeline and meg have in common?
You are not fat, it is true. You only look fat in that one photo.
I love the socks, too. Did I mention the existence of another pair? Sparkly lacy ones? No? Huh.
Meg, I got two words for you: Nipple Clamps.
I like her socks, but I like her legs even more!
See, I TOLD you I thought you'd end up with Madeline. My predictions have been endorsed and are obviously spot-on.
I dig those socks.
i used to be in "that bunch!" i wanna be in "that bunch" again! fuck, i miss madeline. and she knows it, i think. even though i am a shit about long distance shit. i talk to her regularly - but it aint nothing like being in her, uh, bunch.
and as for you and that photo, well, i'm starting to wonder if you need another pic, my man. i took that one of you (the one where you look fat) a while ago. i know you've porked up since then, but i think i can find a good angle...
Where are these Web sites that speculate about sex bloggers who should hook up?
Do tell, please!
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