After playing on the floor in the living room, and up against the door in the kitchen, and in front of the mirrors in the boo-dwahr (notice the classy use of French), we got in the tub. With a couple quarts of eggnog. For our traditional holiday toast.
Those sweet boobies were sweeter still with the creamy, thick, golden eggnog flowing on them…
And there nothing that roasts my chestnuts quite like a sweet pus-say (French again) made sweeter still…
But the piece de resistance (third time! ooh-la-la!) was this little piece of ass…
Board rules (and Elisabeth’s quite prudish policies) prevent me from showing you a photo of my (shall we say) candy cane, but believe me, it was quite properly licked. Never once did I say, “Leggo my Eggo.” Thanks, M. You’re the best.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Ho. Ho. Ho.
Monk