I Have Not Been Forgiven By Jesus

Kevin and I were lying in bed last night, letting the room go dark. He started hugging me and I told him that our love must be like the love of two nuns: we can touch and perhaps even kiss (little dry pecks on the lips). But no nipple play or rubbing of clitorises.

That wouldn't stop my Sister Gertrude. So I had to remind her that I would run out of the room and tell Madre Superior of her satanic ways. In any case, Sister Gertrude needed a good waxing. Everybody in the convent knows I don't do hairy women.

Later, I suggested we raid the chapel of its red wine. But, alas, there was no wine in the chapel, or anywhere else (though a champagne bottle has been kept in the kitchen's fridge for over 3 months now.)

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I'm going to a B-B-Q this weekend and I don't know what outfit to wear. Is it going to be sunny? Is it going to rain? Are we cooking indoors, or sitting on grass? Do I wear jeans and black t-shirt? Or sandals and flowy pink shirt? Glasses or contact lenses? Gelled hair or fashionable mess?

Why am I such a goddam Libra?

Found with arkady

I would like anyone and everyone who reads this to post in here something they would LIKE to do with me SOMEDAY.

Then you could post this in your journal, if you would like, and I'll comment on what I would like to do with you.