Ripe for the Picking!

I came up with this idea a month ago, but just haven't had the discipline to write this up until today. So here it goes.

Sex is a lot like fresh air, you can never get enough fresh air, and I like to breath deeply! However...sometimes you just have to breath alone. I have noticed that the less sex I am having...the more preoccupied with it I become. It's that preoccupation that first made me think of this event.

My boyfriend and I had recently begun dating and after waiting the proper amount of time, it was time for us to have sex. Now in straight relationships, I believe the proper time to wait until having sex is about three weeks. In gay relationships...well we wait for last call at the bar.

We had the perfect date: A dinner consisting of a tossed salad, steamed vegetables, a low calorie boiled chicken breast, and to drink? What could only be considered a bottle's worth of vodka martinis. And during that last cosmopolitan, as I looked into his smoldering eyes, it was then that I knew it was possible to "love" this man. Ahhhh...who am I kidding? We just met. Lets go back to my place and fuck! uh...I mean make love!

Back at his place, he took me in his arms, and I asked him, "What's your name again?" He smiled and said his name was Tom, or Dick, or Harry (I had had 3 cosmos people!)...or maybe it was just Harry Dick? Well his name wasn't important anyway. What was important was our love for each other, and how our two souls, who had found each other when he asked if the only unoccupied seat in the bar (which was next to me) was available, were about to become one. While he kissed me, thoughts of china patterns danced in my head (while something else danced in my pants).

He seductively took his shirt off, showing his defined arms, and just a small trace amount of chest hair. Feeling the burning heat from this Man-God's chest, I began to slowly kiss the soft part of his neck while listening intently to the soft moans of encouragement. In an instant, he was unbuckling his pants and dropping them to the floor. He kicked them off, said "follow me" (which I was more than ready to do), and turned to walk towards the bedroom.

It was then that I saw it. He had a Butt Zit!

In my head, the china pattern had been discontinued. He turned to face me, diverting my gaze from the tiny red pencil eraser sized bump on his ass, and put his arms around me once again. Suddenly his skin seemed a bit colder to me, but as he kissed me, the romantic music once again began to play in my head. He slowly began removing my shirt, and as he did, I ran my hands down his backside until...I accidentally touched the pimple. It was ripe for harvest, and it felt huge. Had it actually grown in the two minutes since I last saw it? Realizing that I hadn't moved in about a minute, he asked if I was ok. "I need to use the bathroom".

In the harsh glare of the bathroom lighting, I swear I could hear his zit calling me. "Pop me...pop me...pop me" was being spoken from his ass (and unfortunately it was the pimple saying this). I planned my course of action, and decided avoidance was the best option. I just would avoid going anywhere near the area.

I entered the bedroom and saw that beautiful Harry Dick...or uh...whatever his name was...stretched out across the bed, waiting patiently for me. He rolled to his side and reached for the lamp to dim the lights, and I once again made eye contact with it. I shall call that pimple Melvin, who was now the size of a matchbox car...and was pulsating. I joined what's his name and Melvin on the bed, and once again was within touching distance of Melvin. As I lay on my side, I noticed that Melvin was rearing his ugly head and casting a shadow on the wall. Melvin was not letting me concentrate on the task that was literally in my hand.

Avoidance was not working...it was time for a tactical assault. I rolled on my back, and what's his face rolled on top of me, kissing me passionately. I ran my hands down his buttocks, and had lost Melvin. I didn't know he could move. Where the hell was he? As I continued to search, what's his face seemed to enjoy my quest to find him. I was actually playing hide and seek with a pimple. Any worse and it would have been like reading brail. I moaned in frustration, and he moaned in pleasure...whatever buddy...I've got work to do. I found the now Softball sized Melvin, hiding on the right cheek, and before he could hide, I pushed both my hands together, hoping to destroy him. What's his name let out a yell!

"Ouch...You pinched me!"
"oh...sorry...yeah...I kinda get into that...you didn't like it?" I innocently answered.
"not really"
"oh...ok..."

Melvin laughed in mockery. He had now grown to the size of a whipped cream pie, and even though I couldn't see him...I could hear him laughing. What's his name began to get more passionate as he asked me to caress his ass once again. I tentatively ran my fingers across what could now only be described as something that resembled Mount Saint Helen. With each kiss of what's his face, I could hear Melvin breathing...and taunting me.

"Ohhhh" what's his face said to me..
"Get off me" I screamed, as I rolled him off of me, and began getting dressed. "This isn't going to work. You have a pimple the size of Uganda on your ass, and I can't take this."

And with that...I left...a ship looking to find another to pass in the night...preferably...a submarine with a good hull.