I don’t think you fully realize what you’ve done here. That was tantamount to a proposal of marriage. It got me all excited, too. Get over here and HEEL, you naughty girl.
This is obviously a wild fabrication. I suspect that Winturmute divined the real story. You got her drunk and then blackmailed her with the (salacious) videotape. Didn’t you? Admit it, you swine. Or maybe you bought her in a Bangkok flea-market. I would’nt put anything past you.
On second thought, Wintermute, since you actually seem to be consideringsleazy’s indecent proposal, the wedding’s off.
Bad dwyr!!! NO!!! Bite your tongue there sugar lips. No one can supplant Rue. It’s just that no one has managed to hijack his thread. Yet.
Psh. I haven’t had to get a woman drunk to sleep with me for weeks. I might also point out that Wintermute, my Official SDMB Mistress [sup]TM[/sup] has mentioned the most important thing in dealing with any beautiful woman: Treat them with respect. Of course, a neanderthal freak like you wouldn’t understand that. I can offer up some lessons for you if you want. See below.
Wintermute, you sexy girl, my favorite color is the color of your eyes, for I could get lost in them and be content forever. I’ve got no preference for condom flavor, though, since I’ve never actually had a condom (filled or otherwise) in my mouth, so pick your favorite and we’ll go with that. Think you could swing by the store and pick us up some toys to play with? Get something I can tie you up with, too. It’s so much easier to have the pre-made stuff than to make your own. Until tonight, O light of heaven.
I meant for the body oils, silly. I picked up all sorts of fun stuff! Do you like games? Oh, and you don’t mind if I invite a girlfriend or two to come play with us, do you? Which do you prefer, blonde, brunette or one of each?
In the meantime (since you seem to like overheated prose), my diaphanous gown barely contains my lush bosom, heaving with anticipation of your touch. My breath catches in my throat. Oh, my beloved, when will you arrive to catch me in your manly arms and sweep me away to rapture?
Yes, SIR! ::scurries over to Exgineer’s left heel::
Listen, I have a proposition for you; since Welby’s married, he can only see me weekday afternoons or the occasional late evening. That leaves my weekends wide open. [montypython]Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know’t I mean?[/montypython]
Whee, I just moved past flirt and become a slut! The Sex and the City girls ain’t got nothin’ on me! (sniff Mother will be so proud!)
Hey now, I may be two woman man Wintermute, I I don’t take kindly to my women seeing other men. Especially one like Exgineer. He’s got no style, he’s got no grace. Besides, he’s a pool boy on the weekends.
Plus, I can always fool the wife witht he old “I’ve got to work this weekend” ploy.
Oh, er, you weren’t supposed to see that. No! No, I mean, what other man, Welby? How could there be any other man but you?
Mmmm, pool boys. Yum.
Slightly embarassing story; I used to work as an au pair at a very large house that had a pool. One day, I was doing something in the kitchen, which overlooked the pool. I noticed a young man out there cleaning it, wearing cut offs and a hat and not much else. Well, let me tell you, the view had all my hormones doing a happy little dance, so I watched him for a while. Then I remembered a question I was supposed to ask the pool guys (Honest! I wasn’t looking for a reason to talk to him!), so I nonchalantly went strolling out to chat with him for a moment. While talking to him, I realized the hat he was wearing said, “Class of XX (I don’t remember)”, which meant he was 17 or 18 and made me old enough to be his mother (if I started young). What a buzzkill. Harshed my mellow pretty effectively.
I had to come back, because I was thinking about this. What? What is this attitude? I just don’t understand this. And it’s not just you, Welby, I don’t understand it from anybody.
I say, what’s sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose. I haven’t signed any exclusivity contracts recently.
So what you’re telling me is that when Ex tells you to heel like a dog that’s cool but when I lay down the law there’s some kind of problem? Psh. Somebody needs a spanking, and it isn’t me.
Welby, after having you, there could be no other. If ever something came between us, and I could see you no more, I would hie me to a convent (and I’m not even Catholic!) and spend the rest of my years chastely pining over you until eventually I died of Love. I would draw and paint your image obsessively and write volumes of odes to that mole you have. You know the one. Very romantic, don’t you think?
See, now, if I were the obsessive, stalker type, I might take the above statement as ecouragement to “help” Welbywife come to her senses and dump your butt. But, lucky for you, I’m not and she’s perfectly safe.
…but, umm…just for curiosity’s sake, you don’t have a home security system or anything, right? No large dogs? No real reason for asking, I’m just…curious…(yeah, that’s the ticket!)
(I saw this this morning, but work is nuts, and the servers are sooo slooowww from the virus. I promise to come back later [my boss is leaving at 4:00 EDT] and play with you, okay?)
As for the questions. . .we’re not very security concious and uh…wait, I mean yeah! We’ve got 5 huge dobermans and a very expensive alarm system and armed guards and stuff and we don’t leave the key under the fake rock in the garden by the back door 3’2" away from the flamingo.
Until tonight, O light of heaven.
I picked up all sorts of fun stuff! Do you like games? Oh, and you don’t mind if I invite a girlfriend or two to come play with us, do you? Which do you prefer, blonde, brunette or one of each?