A hybrid ginger sex filled Friday!!! For all of you!
Oh my, it's almost too much, between his nippley goodness and his acting skills, and all that gingerosity... Oooohh, seriously, I may need to lie down somewhere quiet, so that I may close my eyes and wander what such a union might be like. I can see it now...
It's a hot sunset in Miami somewhere. Out in the kidney shaped pool some chap is floating face down, the back of his head nothing more than mince and hair plugs. The one and only witness is lounging on a sofa in a pool side cabana. She has GSR on both her hands and high heels on her feet, oh and a short but slinky robe that keeps threatening to open... and perhaps one of those new Prada turbans she thinks are rather chic but impractical for doing the shopping in Superquinn.
She's waiting to be interviewed by the local police, determined and confident that she can resist even their most hardened bad cop good cops routines. But then, just as the sun drops behind the desert mountains, a glow, a russet fiery glow catches her eyes, and her loins quiver.
It is he, the only ginger naked oiled policeman in all of MIami, they've sent in the big guns. He's a blunderbuss of peach hues, a cannon of freckly muscles, a flame thrower of gingeritis.
And when he speaks no one can hear him. No one. 'Cept her.
'Uh-huh, oh yeah baby.'
'Oh god, oh ginger.'
........'I was going...'
'robe, but you.....
'appear to be....
'Keep talking Caruso-Top, don't stop! mumble... MUMBLE SOME MORE! Oh lather me in cliches.'
'GET YOUR SUNGLASSES!!!'
Caruso-Top puts sunglasses on, places hands on hips, gazes into sunset. He glistens, his curly wurlies crackle and bob in the oncoming twilight.
'WHAT?? SAY IT! SAY IT!'
'A rolling stone gathers no moss.'
'Oh you hot confusing ginger bitch! I did it! I'm guilty as sin! I murdered him. OH IT"S ON! Oh god, you're so pink and... are they loafers.... they are, aren't they? Good god, take me TAKE ME!'
'All righty then. I'll be your ginger pony.
The weekend is here chumley-warners. Enjoy!