First is the misconceptions about Bulls. I know they are all supposed to be Black ex-linebackers over 6'4" and 10", respectively. I haven't met but the one guy besides me fucking other guys wives, and he was a short, fat, sallow complected, humorless, poor, cretin and from his bluster I am assuming a pretty diminutive appendage. I even joked with my ex wife once about having the bigger dick and she was oddly embarrassed. So it isn't about the dick, gentlemen.
Seriously guys. You never see an add apparently actually written by a woman asking of penis sizes and pictures of impressive endowments.
On the other hand, I want of encourage a flood of inquiries from husbands and boyfriends wanting me to really "stick it to her" SO I will imply gargantuan proportions when in fact I am modestly but entirely adequately endowed. I've never had a woman say "OMG! You are NOT getting that THING near me", nor have they giggled. When they have allowed me access we have been mutually satisfied, sans modern pharmaceuticals, although if I ever need more of a 'lift" than lifting a housewife's skirt, I shall gladdly take one. Or two.
I have a slender build and hit the chart at the exit at the bank along with stick-up men of the 5'8" variety. As I stoop with age perhaps I shall aim for lower fruit but for now, I seem by results attractive to women all the way up to a lofty 6' but usually the shorter, lighter spinners are more to my taste and I theirs.
The divorce aged me rapidly. I grayed nearly completely form salt and pepper to fuck-me-santa white in a year or so. Prior to, I was mistaken for a prematurely balding and prematurely aging mid to early thirties (I was 40 at the time) Now at 45 I get mistaken for 50-55. No one has had the balls or ovaries to suggest I look 60 and they don't offer me the senior discounts, but I can hope. I get called 'Sir' a lot..I take that as a nod to my dominant personality shining through.
Oh, I should mention here why the name of the blog. I was talking to a couple from a Craigslist ad (BTW that is interesting but not fruitful usually) They asked about my experience as a 'Bull'. I hadn;t run across the term.
"Come again?"
They seemed disappointed at my lack of knowledge of the specialized vernacular of the swapped/lent/hot/loaned/cuckoldress wife and her Cuck/DH/Old Man/pimp. I recovered quickly and satisfied them with my answer...
I explained that I have long had a fascination of the mysteries to be unleashed if I had a chance to spend some quality time with another man's wife. I admitted that I had sampled quite a few, but rarely with the kind permission of her husband. They liked that answer. And the Ferdinand reference.
I had thought of the children's book..(still in print?) about a mild-mannered, reluctant bull who as I recall was content to smell the flowers and had no interesting imapling any matodors upon his..ahem..horn. Hence the blog title..I have used this line again in the hackneyed way salesmen recycle gambits that work. This led to bastardized versions when a youngish woman had no idea what I was talking about "Fernando?" and one my age told THAT story that remembered Billy Crystal's 'Nando based on the colorful Fernando Lamas, surely a bull, he. I do a decent version of Billy's version but mine ends up a little more Wrath of Khan/ Corinthian Leather/Mr. Roark-ish of Ricardo Montleban. Great names both of those come to think of it...
Interestingly, I initially, with the first few women tried to imply that bedding a married woman was a rarity for me (as it was at that time) but that her beauty/grace/charm/legs/boobs/pouty lips had so ensnared me that I felt I had no choice but succumb. Oddly, the sluttier I suggested my morals, the more they seemed to want to sample. After a while it was even true.
This same couple asked me about my wife whether she swings too, does she know, suspect, etc. I started at the question then remembered I often wear my wedding ring. Weird affectation of mine , I know. I laughed and told her she is on a need to know basis, and she doesn't have a need to know. Friends who chasten me for 'hanging on' by wearing the damned thing are told it is to remind me not to make that mistake again. Helps if the object of my desire is taken I suppose..More fodder for the couch if I ever decide to get 'shrunk'
No comments:
Post a Comment