In Your Eyes: An Apology

When I first met you, I couldn’t help but notice how cute you were. There we were, at opposite tables in a Starbucks, you with a double whipped half-caf mocha latte, and I with a grande Americano with steamed milk. You nibbled on a croissant, carefully making sure no crumbs got on your new blouse. In only a few short hours, I’d be ripping that very blouse off in a fury of sexual passion. You asked me to pass some sugar, for your table was without. Our hands met. You smiled.

By the time we made it to my car, a ’92 Geo Prism, I could see your wetness slowly dripping down your leg. I steered with my erection as I forced my tongue past your crimson lips. I don’t remember the drive home.  You mentioned something about picking your ex’s kids up from soccer, but sports would have to wait. We pulled up to your house, a cute little bungalow with a lovely garden of perennials and creeping ivy. I remember thinking that I should ask you who provided your gardening services, but that is neither here nor there. Next thing I knew, your clothes were on the floor of your son’s room. I looked at my throbbing member in the Thomas the Tank Engine mirror, pulsing like a fat worm searching for fresh dirt. I kicked aside a “Snow Dogs” Blu-Ray disc . Your tender, single mother hands slowly stroked me as I aggressively attacked your perfectly Puerto Rican breasts. You yelped, I grew harder.

Eventually, your tongue escaped the prison of your mouth, and slowly flicked my dome. That’s when I ejaculated. Hard. Like, so hard it took months to regenerate enough spunk to masturbate comfortably. It was too late. A full pint of my potential children coated your face like a reverse minstrel show. I swore that I never end that fast, but you were already blind. At first I though it would be temporary, but as your screams turned into resigned weeping, I gathered my things and quietly exited.  On the way out, I grabbed one of your son’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures. I was determined to never forget that day.

I saw you again the other day, but you did not see me. I was glad to see you had not been permanently blinded. You looked happy, and so did your husband. Single mother my ass.