by Patricia Parkinson
(12/21/05)
"If you were a bird, what kind of bird would you be?"
These are the types of questions I'm faced with everyday. Last night it was, "Do you think it'd be nicer to live by the ocean, or the mountains?"
She always asks when we're having sex. We have a lot of sex.
When she asks, I have to stop, mid-stroke, and think about the answer, which I know, in her mind, is a test to reveal my inner self and satisfy the emotional side of her sexuality. The right answer depends on whether she's feeling like a bad girl, or a good girl.
Tonight, I can't get a read.
"I don't know," I say, and prop myself up on my hands, willing my cock to stay hard, wondering what answer it is she's looking for that will guarantee a satisfactory outcome. "I think...I'd be an eagle." Makes sense. Sounds good -- strong, masculine.
"Really?" she says, in the same tone she uses when she hears about an unlikely couple splitting up. "An eagle. Really. Eagles are kind of, well, they're very independent birds."
Hello Good Girl.
Wrong answer. Shrink half an inch.
"They're also very...strong birds, very..." What the fuck are eagles? "Brave birds! Eagles are brave!"
"I guess," she says, and untangles her arms from mine.
I am losing major ground here. I re-adjust my weight, get in a few mini thrusts, and look down, at her tits.
"Or...if I'm honest with myself...I would be..."
"Yes?"
"I would be...a penguin."
"Really?" she says, in the same tone she uses when she hears about a happy couple having a baby. "Penguins are soooo, cute. Aren't they the best?" She wraps her arms around me again. "They move sloooooow," she rocks her hips, "and have that little Charlie Chaplin walk," and swivels them, side-to-side, up and down, and around. "They huddle close together, and snuggle up tight," she says, and puts her hands on my ass, pulling me deeper into her.
"I hear they mate for life," I groan.
"No way!" she moans, and kisses me. Her tongue circles the inside of my mouth.
She places her hands on my chest and rolls me on to my back. She smiles, straddles me, and licks her lips. "I'd be a penguin too," she says, and bends her head to kiss my neck, my chest, and lower. I close my eyes.
I'm the man.
