Monday, Jul. 18, 2005 - 11:57 a.m.
Exaggerated example of how femme lesbians come into a butch's life
Look sugar, let's get one thing straight. I walked into this dyke bar to find me just that-a dyke. I'm assuming that the hog outside is yours. Short-cropped hair, leather pants and that barbed wire tattoo around your arm let me know that a woman has never said 'no' to you. Hmm.
So here I am...tight black pants, red low-cut tank top, enough for you to guess how big and hard my nipples are. While I wait for that smirk to leave your face I'll buy our beers then get me to your place as quick as possible.
I need to be fed as well as be devoured by your moouth. I want to feel your body's sweat swim on my skin. I'd tell you I was sorry for knocking over your lamp with my foot, but it was an ugly lamp.
Did I ask for your name? No? Oh well, remind me to ask you tomorrow...yes, tomorrow. You shouldn't sound so surprised.
Hey look darling, this place of yours looks like it needs a femmes touch, in other words..a lot of work so I figured I'd do YOU the favor and stay with you for a while. You don't mind do you?
I don't know how long that'll be but long enough for both of us to realize that this was a stupid mistake and that you should've never invited me over to your place.
So gimme a kiss, I'm going to be late for my morning Yoga class. Oh, before I forget, I wrote my name on the magnetic board on the fridge. There was some other girl's name and number already on there but I took the liberty of erasing it, because how awful will that look when your mom gets here at 2pm for lunch, having a girl over and having some other chick's number on your fridge?
Your mom called earlier this morning and I invited her over for lunch. See you for lunch. Ciao! (12-03)
