So there I was. My tongue touching the bottom of my glass, and using it to stir the cherry around the bottom and looking seductive as all hell at the object of my desire. She was leaning up against the juke box, one hand on her crotch the other tipping her cowboy hat at me. Swoon. Her bulging biceps were hanging down over her elbows, and I just wanted to swing on her arm like Jane confusing Tarzan for a swinging vine. But I played it cool with my tongue still teasing that cherry at the bottom of that glass. Who could resist this tongue flirtation? I was hot that night, and I did end up leaving with her. It only excited me all the more when I woke up the next morning hog tied in the garage with the door up, with the neighbor’s boy staring at me in admiration, and her phone number written in lipstick on my naked ass cheek. Thank god for the full length mirror I had marked for the garage sale, ‘cause anyone who respects a gal like that, I’m gonna ask out to bingo right away.
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