Later that day, Charlene looked frazzled while she was getting ready for work. I walked into the bathroom where she was fixing her hair, grabbed her hips, and dry humped her from behind like I often do whenever she’s getting ready for work, looking out of sorts, or both.
“C’mon! Can’t you see I’m trying to get ready?” she asked rhetorically with a part amused, part annoyed expression as she curled her hair.
“I can’t help it. You just look so good. You make me so horny!”
“You always do this when I’m trying to get ready.”
“I know,” I said childishly.
“If you don’t go away I’m going to stab you in the eye with my curling iron! ”
I gently pulled her hair away from her ear, leaned in, and whispered into it with my super dramatic sexy voice, “I want you to stab me with your curling iron in my (pause) asssssssshole…”
She spun around quickly - war face on - and gesticulated the curling iron going up my butt. “I’ll stab you in asshole!” she roared.
“No! No! No!” I laughingly pleaded as I defended against her half-hearted ass rape attempt. “I don’t want the curling iron in my asshole! “
“Then get out of here and let me get ready!” she demanded.
I frowned, slumped my shoulders, walked two steps out of the bathroom, turned back around to face her, and told her very somberly, “You should be in a good mood.”
“Why?” she asked abrasively.
“Because tonight the season premiere of the Bachelor is on.”
Her eyes immediately lit up and a smile quickly overran her face. “Oh my God! I totally forgot! The Bachelor is on! That makes me so happy!” she joyfully declared.
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