Let's play a story game!

Christine scoffed, "You know, you've become quite a bore these last months, Paul. What's up with that?"

"I'm beginning to think it might be the new bathroom cleaner I'm using....It cleans really well, but I'm sick for a day after I clean," said Paul.

Christine, who was dressed out in a skin tight leopard leotard and black leather skirt and matching Guicci pumps, started to pout and asked Paul in a rather coy and suggestive manner, "What's the matter, baby, isn't my new Perfume good enough to overcome those nasty toxic fumes?" "Come closer, I want you to get a good whiffy-poo!"

dsmbaptist wrote:Christine, who was dressed out in a skin tight leopard leotard and black leather skirt and matching Guicci pumps, started to pout and asked Paul in a rather coy and suggestive manner, "What's the matter, baby, isn't my new Perfume good enough to overcome those nasty toxic fumes?" "Come closer, I want you to get a good whiffy-poo!"

Paul who had not had a date in ten years came closer to Christine, and she the whispered into his ear:

" http://tiny.cc/9cxys "

"Baby, the warp drive is real. I'm the inventor. Yeah, I know you think I'm just a pretty face and a nice pair of .... well, breasts, but inside, I'm much more. Listen, let's get in my spaceship and travel to Betelguese, and make love in its beautiful light. Are you game?"

...But then Paul woke up and realized that it wasn't Christine that whispered in his ear, but it was Clara, the cleaning lady. Instead of a skin tight leopard skin leotard and stiletto heels, it was a print dress and sensible black Dr. Scholls, and she was trying to tell him that he was standing in her mop bucket, and could he please move or she's show him the business end of her mop...

Paul, still woozy from the ammonia and bleach, looked at Clara with interest. He'd never noticed how shiny her gold teeth were, nor the allure of a flesh-and-blood woman wielding a mop. And, it had been, after all, ten years since his last date. He stepped out of her cleaning bucket, apologized, put on his "Prison Planet" CD, and asked Clara if she'd like to dance. Clara, surprised and flattered, replied.....

Which Paul promptly did, leaving Clara disappointed afterward in his seeming lack of skill, due to he still being under the psychedelic influence of the high quality blotter acid...

So Paul decided it was best to take Clara for a drive instead. Unfortunately, due to his drug usage and lack of a rational mind to begin with, he found himself in the middle of the Mojave Desert...

While Clara was bitching to Paul about taking the wrong turn at Albuquerque, Paul spied a nearby cave that ran several fathoms underground and contained a fresh water supply, and noticing that the car's radiator needed some water, he drove the car to a shady area to allow the car to cool off before he proceeded to add the water.

However, while waiting for his car to cool off, Paul noticed that Clara's anger had cooled down. She quit her bitching at him, which really hadn't bothered him that much anyway. She had been barely audible over the Aerosmith CD he'd been playing, like WAY loud. Paul then noticed that familiar look in her eyes, eyes clearly revealing that her passions had again returned.

"Paul darling," she said breathlessly, "it's so damned hot, and so am I. Can you give me a hand with this?"

Paul, in spite of living a monk's life since 1978, had at least enough of his secret porn star past to know how to seduce a woman....

"Well, hey, sweet thing...I've got TWO hands! Wanna see how I can use them?"

"You're going to need two hands, sugar dumplin'," Clara said. "While you were spaced out listening to Aerosmith, I called Christine. That's her car coming up the road right now. Whaddya say to that, big boy?"

"You into three ways, hot mama?", said Paul, hoping to end his three decade long monk hood. Paul then eyed the underground pool inside the cave and noticed how cool and refreshing it glistened, with just a few rays of light shining thru a crack in the ceiling of the cave, and how the stalagmites and stalactites glistened with the pinks and yellows of the rock layers and how it all made for a wonderful rendezvous point for a night of hot passion. Although he was nearly sixty, Paul had the stamina of an eighteen year old. He said a quick prayer, hoping for an affirmative answer from Clara.

Which was a silly prayer, because while he was spacing out on the cave, Clara and Christine had stripped down to buck naked.

"We're going skinny dipping, Captain America," Christine shouted at Paul. "Are you going to join us, or just keep standing there zoning out?"

Well, not to be PWND by a couple of chicks, Paul not only got nekid, he strut his stuff in front of the ladies, and hopped into the pool.

Now mind you, Paul still had ...um..."IT", if you know what I mean, but what he also had was....


...A bad case of gas, and was blowing bubbles as if he was on The Laurence Welk Show! The ladies laughed, and poor Paul he lost...

...well, there are probably children reading this, but suffice to say, Paul remained a monk that night!

Morning came. An unfamiliar whirring noise woke Paul from his deep slumber. Opening his eyes, he saw Clara and Christine sitting at an ordinary looking table, chatting and drinking tea.

"Where am I?" Paul asked the ladies.

"Well, good morning to you too, Gas Man," Christine shot at him. "We're on my starship, headed for Betelguese. We've still got some plans for you, and no, you may not have anything to eat."

"Babes, all that I want to eat is your love!" Said Paul, who was now totally sober and ready for some ...um. "action".

"Well, Gas Man, up until now you've been all talk and no action," Clara reminded Paul. "And anyway, what exactly do you mean by, 'Eat our love'?"

Paul then proceeded to show the ladies his secret stash of edible undies and with a seductive glint in his eye that only a nun would ignore, he motioned for them to get closer...his grin growing larger as they approached closer and closer...a few more steps and they would be under his control..."Closer, ladies, closer!", Paul thought to himself as he prepared for the three way of the century...

However, Clara and Christine mostly ignored Paul, busying themselves in preparing to drop out of warp drive.

"We've arrived at Betelguese," Christine announced, "home star of the planet Studstuff, home to best-looking dudes in the galaxy."

Paul's fantasies dropped out of warp drive right along with Christine's starship.

...Paul pondered to himself,"I wonder...if they hesitate to do a three way with me because.......................................



...they're actually lesbians?"

It was at that point that Paul woke up in a shady motel room smelling of booze and cigarettes. There were burn marks on the mattress and what smelled like jalapeno oil on his hands, though there was a hint of strawberry as well. Instead of pondering the wild and crazy dream he was having, he hurriedly rushed to bathroom. To his horror, he discovered...

...that the sun coming through the window was RED!! Wait, he thought, the dream, Betelguese, warp drive, Christine, Clara. Damn! What am I doing in a shady motel room on Studstuff??

Just then, a knock on the door.

"Paul honey," a voice on the other side of the door crooned. It was Christine. "How're you feeling this morning, Big Boy?"

"C-c-c-christine?" Paul stuttered. "I thought I was dreaming. How did I wake up in a shady motel room on ... Studstuff, right? And, just what the hell happened last night? What's with the jalapeño oil? And I'm outta cigarettes."

Christine answered, "Easy Big Boy. Last night, you......