January 16, 2009

Fuck Me Just Like This

This is a comment that was left on my Thrilled Beyond Measure post, when I got all excited about my *first* review for Never Have the Same Sex Twice.

I asked readers to send in their favorite "keep-things-hot" tricks, and this one stood out in the sexy, sexy crowd. I'm posting the whole comment (from anonymous) in case anyone missed this the first time...

Here’s something (among other tricks) my boyfriend and I do to keep things interesting: Bub pays a visit.

Bub was born one day when one of our kids was wearing some kind of rednecky ear-flap hunting cap, and his grandmother called him ‘Bub.’

“Bub,” I repeated to my boyfriend. “I love it. Just who is this Bub?”

We started constructing a Bub. Bub would be a hunter, a fisherman, a snowmobiler, an ATV-rider, if he had time for those traditional pursuits, but he doesn’t. He’s too single-mindedly devoted to the pursuit of pussy. Bub has a wife: a pretty, washed-up, screechy-voiced woman named Tina who stays home with their four kids while Bub is out screwing anything with two x chromosomes.

“What do you think Bub sounds like?” I asked my boyfriend.

And my sweet-voiced sweetie, who grew up in West Virginia but speaks in clear, unaccented English, suddenly dropped his voice half an octave and growled something low and nasty in a snarling drawl that was pure Appalachia.

“Do it again!” I begged. I drew his hand down between my legs so he could feel my response. “Keep doing it!” He kept talking. Bub has a voice like a snake: softly slithering with seductive southern-fried flattery (“Girl, you got the sweetest little titties”) and then striking (“Quit fightin’! I’ma be in your ass in one minute, and you’ll wanna save yer screamin’ for then”).

So now and again Bub comes to visit, and I get to be one or another of the myriad women he fucks. The first time, he picked a woman up in a bar and drove her down a long, deserted road. They sat in his pickup (well, really our Volvo station wagon), drank beers, talked…he was bullshitting her in his slither-voice, and then suddenly she was pinned under his weight, her hands held over her head, while he raped her half-senseless. A hitchhiker wound up with her long hair wrapped around his fist, his cock slamming down her throat. One woman, after several orgasms, made the mistake of murmuring something tender and possessive; Bub lay back, pushed her head towards his crotch, and said, “I spent the aft’noon fuckin’ this lil gal down in Westminster; now you best clean her off me.” After a night with Bub, women tend to wake up with bruises and teethmarks in places you don’t even want to think about.

I do have a surprise in store for Bub. There’s a woman he hasn’t met yet: a tough, lithe, sexually voracious femme fatale who has dealt with more than her share of Bubs already. When he picks her up, who knows what will happen? He’s big and brutal and ruthless; she packs a knife. We’ll see…

Oh, and when your brain clears... don't forget to vote!


P.S. I dreamed I was doing a word search. Except all the words I was looking for were 1) dirty and 2) spelled wrong. So "fcuk," and "cocc" and "pssy." What does that say about 1) me and 2) my flthy mnd?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love that you seem to be grooving on Bub as much as I do! I haven’t even told my best friends about him, so it’s fun to share.

As a matter of fact, Bub dropped in recently. He took me out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, stuck me with the bill, wore his baseball cap throughout the meal, dunked his hand in his Jack Daniels and finger-fucked me under the table, made me blow him in the car on the way home, and then vanished. It was a beautiful evening, if a little unsatisfying for me. Good thing my loving (and unsuspecting) boyfriend was there to scratch the itch when I got home.

God, I love the son of a bitch.