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A BLONDE Tiffany Taylor!
Would you like to know what the biggest lie is, that men tell? ItÕs a
lie they tell to each other. It has nothing to do with Interns or adultery.
ItÕs this lie: ÒOh, in Playboy, those girls donÕt really look like that.
ItÕs just air-brushing.Ó
Playboy began publishing in 1955. Air-brushing wasnÕt invented
until the 1970Õs. So, although some photos may be Ôtouched upÕ using an
air-brush, to remove the unfortunate mole or blemish (or tattoo), an air-
brush cannot create a beautiful girl out of whole cloth.
Anyway, I have my own experience to rely on. Take what happened to
me last night. I was sitting in this Chinese restaurant. I was eating, and
at the same time I was studying a book about Java and reading The
Economist.
Then a family showed up. To eat in the restaurant. You would not
believe how their daughter looked. IÕll describe her as I saw her, to give
you the full effect:
First, through the restaurantÕs window, before the family even came
into the restaurant, I saw an impressive pair of bosoms. They were quite
large bosoms, even for a woman, but they were on a girl who was no older
than 16. (And perhaps only 14 !)
Due to the fullness of her chest, this girlÕs shirt was pulled tight
against her body. I could see that her ribs, under her breasts, had no fat on
them. And underneath her ribs her belly was smooth and flat. So, in
looking at this girl, I was struck by the sharp inward slope of her midriff:
bosoms, then ribs, then, tucked under her ribs, her straight, small belly.
Next, I noticed this girl with the big bosoms had blonde hair. Long
blonde hair. Of course by now I was hoping to find some defect,
somewhere, on her, so that I would not go completely insane!
I looked at her arms. They were perfectly slim. Her upper arms
were slightly hollow in appearance, just like a modelÕs. Her skin was
well-tanned and seemed to glow under the restaurantÕs lights.
The family was escorted to a table. As they walked past me I saw
that the girl had large, luminous eyes. Some man was glowering at me so I
didnÕt get to fully inspect the girlÕs face. However, as soon as the family
sat down and the man looked away, I resumed my inspection!
Naturally, you can guess how this girl was seated. Her old, fat, bald
father, and her old, unattractive mother (who wasnÕt even a blonde!) were
seated facing me. The girl herself was seated with her back to me. I had
a perfect view of her father and mother, but I was stuck looking at the
back of the daughterÕs head! However, if I leaned to one side I could see
the swell of the girlÕs bosom, which at least was some consolation.
Soon the girl turned her head to one side, to look around the
restaurant. Sitting behind her, I now had a sideways-view of her face.
Since the Òpervert patrolÓ man was no longer glowering at me, I gazed
intently at her. My God! You would not believe this girlÕs face! Her eyes
were indeed large, as IÕd noticed previously. Now I noticed that she had a
small, snub nose. Even more impressively, she had a perfectly round,
pixie-like oval face! An elf would not have had a cuter face. Sometimes
you see girls under 12 who have a cute, pixie-like face, but to see such a
face on a girl whoÕs already grown her bosoms is truly amazing!
You can guess what happened next. I shitted in my pants. I thought
it was just gas, but when I felt a large, wet bulge underneath me, I said to
myself, ÒHoly shit! IÕve pooped in my pants!Ó
I ran to the restaurantÕs bathroom. I locked myself in the toilet
stall and took down my pants. Yep, sure enough, there was a big diarrhea
stain in my underpants, as well as some poop. Quickly I began grabbing
wads of toilet paper and cleaning out my underpants.
Can you guess what happened next? You will think IÕm making this
up, but IÕm not. The toilet paper ran out. I couldnÕt belive it. Here I am,
with poop on my butt and in my pants, and thereÕs no toilet paper!
I looked around the toilet stall. I saw the seat coverings for the
toilet seat on the wall behind the toilet. Immediately I began yanking
them out of their container and using them to clean myself and my
underpants.
Once my butt was clean, an important question arose: what to do
with my underpants? I mean, they were totally ruined. There was no way
I could continue wearing them with a big wet diarrhea stain in them.
Fortunately there was only a little stain on the back of my trousers, so I
decided to get rid of my underpants, and just walk around with my dick
dangling inside my trousers.
However, this question arose: where should I leave my underpants?
Once before this had happened to me, in a Federal Building of all places,
and I just left my underpants in the toilet stall. However, I was now
stuck in a small Chinese restaurant, in a closet-sized bathroom, and since
I had already gotten odd looks from the management when I walked into
the place, I knew theyÕd guess right away who had left his underpants in
their bathroom!
What to do? I thought and thought. Then it occurred to me: why not
drop my underpants in the bathroomÕs wastebasket? Unfortunately, it
wasnÕt a closed wastebasket, like in a real bathroom. This was, after all,
a Chinese restaurant. The wastebasket in the restroom was an open bin,
sitting out on the floor, so that anyone could look in it and see my
underpants! (Worse, they would be able to smell them, too.)
I pulled several more toilet seat covers out of their container. I
wrapped them around my underpants. Then I hurried out of the toilet stall
and dropped my underpants in the wastebasket. (Fortunately nobody had
come into the bathroom during the whole time I was cleaning myself.)
With my underpants in the wastebasket, but wrapped in a big wad of toilet
seat covers, it was still pretty obvious, to anyone who might look in the
wastebasket, that something fishy was going on. So I took lots of paper
towels and wadded them up and dropped them in the wastebasket too, to
cover up the big wad of toilet seat covers that had my underpants in them.
At this point I left the restroom. Any normal, decent person would
have left the restaurant too, since my trousers were kinda stained in back.
However, I was not about to leave that restaurant with such a beautiful
girl sitting there! So, with my dick dangling inside my pants, hoping there
wasnÕt any odor from the small stain on the back of my trousers, I went
back to my table and sat down again.
But very bad luck had struck! In between the luscious 14-year-old
blonde and her family, a new family had been seated! It consisted of a
HUGELY fat man and his ugly, fat female relatives. (Plus some little girl,
about 6-years-old, who looked like total shit.) The big fat man was
sitting EXACTLY between me and my view of the blonde! No matter how I
wiggled about in my chair I could not see past him!
So, guess what I did? I literally picked up my chair, still pretending
to sit in it, and moved it way over to one side of my table. Then I could
SLIGHTLY see the blonde, IF the fat man leaned back in his chair. But when
he leaned forward again, then I couldnÕt see! So I picked up my chair again
and moved it all the way to the other side of my table. Then I could
slightly see the blonde once more, IF the fat man DIDNÕT lean back!
Well, you can imagine how that was. Every time the fat dude leaned
back, I had to shove my chair all the way to the other end of my table. And
then, as often happened, when he leaned forward again, I had to shove my
chair to the other end of my table!
I had been in the restaurant for some time before the family with
the blonde daughter had even arrived. The waiter had already been asking
me if I wanted a box to take my meal home with me. Now I was
determined not to leave until the family did, so I could (hopefully) get a
better look at their daughter!
I drank a lot of water. I drank it slowly. The Òpervert patrolÓ man
kept looking at me, wondering why I was just sitting there drinking water.
The waiter kept asking me if I wanted a box. The girlÕs mother and father,
who unfortunately had a pretty good view of me, occasionally would look
in my direction.
Nonetheless, I stayed! I was NOT going to leave that restaurant until
the girl did! I watched the family finish their dinner. I waited while the
father got his money out of his wallet to pay for their dinner. I waited
some more while the waiter took their money and their bill, and went to
make change. I put my Java book and my Economist magazine away and got
ready to leave.
At last, the family got up. Unfortunately, they walked straight out
of the restaurant. For some stupid reason I thought they would have to
stand at the front of the restaurant, to pay their bill, but of course they
had already paid! So when they got up, it wasnÕt like at the grocery store,
where you can wait behind people and look at their daughter while they
pay their bill. The family just got up and left, and I, having not paid yet,
was stuck all by myself at the front of the restaurant, with no girl to look
at! She was outside, walking away!
You would think, with shit in my pants and the fat dude and the
Òpervert patrolÓ man and all the other bad luck IÕd already suffered, I
would at least be able to pay for my food and leave. But no such luck. For
some reason the cashier (who was also the restaurantÕs manager) had
decided to total up the nightÕs receipts. There I stood as he punched in
numbers at his cash register, happily working his way through dozens of
peopleÕs bills. (All of which had ALREADY been paid!)
ÒKeep the change!Ó I yelled to the manager. I left my money and his
fucking bill on the counter, next to his cash register. He nodded to me and
I went running out of that restaurant. But the family was already getting
into their car! They got in it and drove away. I was stuck standing there,
having never gotten a really good look at that girl!
However, I did get enough of a look at her to be able to say, with
absolute conviction, that she was an exact replica of Tiffany Taylor. The
only difference between the two girls was that she was about five years
younger, and blonde!
I relate all of my travails that I have listed above to make this
point: there ARE girls in this world who are ÒPlayboy-perfect.Ó You arenÕt
just seeing air-brushing when you look at Playboy. Girls in fact do look
that pretty. I would have loved to have found some defect in that blonde
that I saw at the Chinese restaurant, so I could go back to reading my Java
book and my copy of the Economist. And so I wouldnÕt shit in my pants.
But, unfortunately, the girl WAS, in fact, a ÒPlayboy-perfect,Ó Tiffany
Taylor-type girl, and a blonde to boot! So I shitted in my pants, and had to
leave my underwear in the bathroom, and otherwise had a perfectly awful
meal, trying to look past some fat guy by moving my chair back and forth.
Well, I hope I have made my point. ThereÕs one other IÕd like to make.
Take an extra pair of underpants with you if you go out to eat. You never
know: the next All-American family you see may have a Tiffany Taylor
daughter!
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 404
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Eight
Kate, still handcuffed to her master, tossed her blonde head as
casually as she could and tried not to think of all the eyes on her fanny.
She was proud of her bottom, in an odd, feminine sort of way. Proud of
how all the men, and not a few women, gazed at her nether cheeks in
admiration. It wasnÕt often you could show off your bottom in public, Kate
reminded herself, trying to suppress the butterflies that rose up in her
tummy. Yet, when you were young, and beautiful, wasnÕt it something you
should wish to do? Kate gave her heinie a wiggle and watched the other
guests respond. She was a fish, leading a school of fish in the ocean, her
flipping tail making all the others follow.
ÒGod, if it wasnÕt marked already,Ó a young man sighed. He looked
wealthy and spoiled and Kate took an instant liking to him. He seemed to
have eyes filled with fire and Kate guessed his veins were just as
arduous, right down to the ones that ridged the thing in his pants which
now stood up quite plainly, making him a little embarrassed as he stood
amongst his fellows. Then Kate saw her admirerÕs eyes pass over to the
waist of the hostess. Kate leaned back a little and saw that there was a
competitor for the roomÕs eyes. The hostess, in bending over to kiss
KateÕs fanny, had revealed more of her own rump. Her dress was so tight
and cut so low in back that when she bent her bottom had arched up out of
her gown. Now it stuck out quite completely, with her tight gown bunched
underneath it. Unless she reached back and put a finger into her dress and
lifted it up back over herself, the hostess would have a bare bottom for
the rest of the night. Kate waited for the hostess to repair her dress. But
she didnÕt. Instead, she went on with her duties as if nothing had
happened. She took a fresh bottle of wine from an ice bucket and had a
man uncork it for her. Then she filled the glasses of those guests that
looked empty, waiting while a few guests hastily downed what theyÕd
already been given.
ÒWe must be in high spirits for the evening,Ó the hostess laughed.
Her nipples were risen through her expensive dress. It clung to her belly
and thighs so liquidly that Kate felt the womanÕs pussy was almost on
display. Where her thighs met the hostessÕ dress dipped inward, then rose
a little to show the outline of her bush. While the effect had always been
present, the fact that the hostess was now disordered in back seemed to
deepen KateÕs awareness of it. She felt so teased by the womanÕs attire
that she wanted to run over to her and rip off her dress. She felt a strange
desire to lick the womanÕs bush and pass her tongue up between her
lovelips and make the hostess as aroused as Kate herself was feeling.
Dharma Bum
by Alan Catlin
He drank
life from
easy chug
a mug
bottles
throwing
the empties
off the porch
onto the over
grown lawn
lighting
white filter
tipped cigars
with stick
matches he
struck on
the peeling
railing paint or
on the sagging
floor boards
when the railing
was too far
away to reach
listening to
ball games
in the out
of tune radio
plugged into
the frayed
extension cord
the wife and
kiddies going
by without
comment one
way or the other
about what might
be happening in
his life like
he was some kind
of animated lawn
ornament the weeds
hadnÕt gotten
to yet.
AND IN THE END...
OH, CHARLIE ROSE...
ÒMore pigs than people live in North Carolina; about 10 million of
the former, only 7.5 million of the latter. ...The rapid expansion of pig-
farming proves North CarolinaÕs success at diversifying its economy,
but it comes at a steep price in filthy water and strong smells.Ó
- The Economist, September 20, 1997, pg. 30.
(Now you know why Charlie, though a proud North Carolinian, broadcasts
from New York! - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
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copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 404 EMISSION