In case you forgot, this is the Band Teacher's very fit and very firm body:
When she got here, we started chatting outside. I usually don't feel comfortable with people in my room. I have sweaty mountain bike and motorcycle gear in my closet. If the trade winds blow just right, my room smells like a gym.
I showed her the brand new tires on my bike. She came with me when I ordered them, so I figured I may as well point them out. I also explained that I had a bit more scrubbing of the tires to do to kill off the chicken strips.
"I don't know. I would feel more comfortable being enclosed," she said. "I'm not sure what the thrill is about."
"You never straddled a throbbing V-Twin before?"
"I've never owned one before."
That's when I started staring at her inseam. Of course it was to check her leg length. No, really. I wasn't ogling... much.
Her crotch came up about the height of my crotch, so I told her she should try sitting on my bike. She did so cautiously since she hadn't sat on a motorcycle before. I ran back and forth to both sides of the bike to get her into the proper position and to make sure she didn't scratch herself on my new rearsets. Those things have sharp edges meant to dig into boots.
While behind her, I noticed the top part of her jeans was a bit open. I couldn't resist a peek.
"Hey, I can see inside your pants."
"HEY! I'm wearing a thong you know."
"Really?" And I peeked again. I was playing around though. I didn't really try to look at her thong. I told her that too since I didn't want to be TOO crass.
The Band Teacher hopped off the bike. I hopped on right after her. Although our genitalia are located around the same altitude, it was easier for me to get my feet on the ground. Part of the reason could be her weight. She's only 113 pounds compared to my 200. Troll flesh is made of depleted uranium. Her body could only compress the suspension and seat cushion half as much as the orc.
Another reason was her position on the seat. She sat toward the back of the seat. I sat balls on tank, and I pointed it out to her. Not so much my balls, but the fact that the seat is lower nearer to the tank lets me get my feet down. I told her that her brass balls probably got in the way and she agreed and said she would shift them to the left next time.
Next we played with my dog. The Band Teacher first met my dog when he was about 8 weeks old. He's about 10 months old now and about 50 pounds big.
"He seems happy to see me."
"How do you know?"
"Because... he... is."
"He has a boner?"
"Yeah."
I can't blame the dog. If young women gave me that much attention, I would be sporting wood 24/7.
I played with the dog a bit and he slobbered all over my hands. He has this weird thing where he needs to lick things or put things in his mouth. He doesn't bite my hands. He just coats them with saliva.
"Smell my finger," as I stuck my hand under the Band Teacher's nose. "BTW, you always wear thongs?" I know for a fact I have never seen panty lines on the Band Teacher before.
"Almost always. When it's that time, I don't."
"That time? Oh! That's right, you use pads." I once had to help her shop for pads and depilatory creams. I still don't know why these feminine hygiene products come in strawberry and cream scents. Do women expect someone to eat... oh. Never mind.
"Yeah. I can't use tampons. My vaginal muscles are so well trained that I can tie the string into a bow and eject the tampon 20 feet all while I sleep." (She didn't say this. This is what my male brain heard.)
"I don't believe you without video. Did you try ping pong balls yet?"
Then I took her for a ride in the Yaris.
This car is a total chick magnet. They can't get enough of the spacious interior. The well thought out ergonomics. The energy conserving 1.5 liter four banger. The sensible styling. Bland, yet tasteful.
While in the car, I bemoaned the fact that I lack actors to help me make YouTube videos. I'm as ugly as dog poop, so if I am ever going to make videos, I need human-looking people. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone who both looks good and is willing to help. The Band Teacher said that Hawaii people aren't great actors. She does have a point. Everyone I know either sucks on screen or is too embarrassed to be of use. But then I remembered Mikey Inouye.
Mike Inouye has a very popular video blog on YouTube. I've watched several of his videos and he cracks me up. What makes it even better is that he collaborated with Abbegirl to make a few. Abbe is a pretty blonde.
"There you go with the blondes again. Are you into blondes?"
"I don't think I have a preference. The other day when I was passing the Shrimp Station," I point over my shoulder even though the Shrimp Station is seven miles away, "I saw a pretty black girl. I swear I couldn't stop looking. She was hot."
"Hey, that's cool that you don't care about race."
"Yeah. I think my only real criteria is that the girl has a vagina."
When we got back to my house it was time for the Band Teacher to leave. She wasn't sure if she would be able to return during the summer or if she would have to wait until next winter to come visit.
"The next time I come back, I'll show you another thong."
Me:
*********************
On December 29, I had to say goodbye to a dear companion. We had first met nearly 14 years ago. Back then I was really into rollerblading. It was through rollerblading that we met. Even after I stopped skating and moved on to other activities like diving and drag racing, my companion remained close by. Then when I started riding my motorcycle, my companion came with me on most of my rides.
However, because of age and a hard life, my companion no longer had any strength left. He couldn't stay up and he couldn't support me. I had no choice but to give my companion a dignified end.
Goodbye, socks. I will miss you.
1 comment:
Shoulda gave 'em to the band teacher as a souvenir of your undying love.
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