A Kitty Lickin’ Holiday (Mandy Diary Entry 4)

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Dear Diary,

I’m officially naming August 9th National (and International) Pussy Eating Day.

Sorry if you find me vulgar but if you’ve read any of my diary entries or any of my books then you already know that I’m a modern woman: a curvaceous, mind-speaking, sex-loving, independent woman.

So I’m going to say what needs to be said.

Blowjob holidays are all around us.

Get your mind out of the gutter (Image courtesy of stockimages at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

Get your mind out of the gutter (Image courtesy of stockimages at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

Valentine’s Day? We get something nice and then we suck his dick.

Birthdays? Come on, we have to go down on that special day of the year.

Halloween? Tell me you haven’t been the sexy nurse or the sexy maid or the sexy playboy bunny.

Every fucking costume in the store is designed to make us the do-gooder! Even a sexy witch is bound to cast a magic spell over his lap that ends with us pulling down the pants of his ninja costume (every guy fancies being a ninja at least once) and doing the chicken-head bob.

Even Easter? Seriously, what kind of Easter egg hunt doesn’t end with rolling his eggs around in the palm of your hand while you wrap your lips around his cock?

No? Is it just me? Maybe I just get taken advantage of. I’m way too nice.

So let me get back to National Pussy Eating Day.

White-Flag

First, let me explain the backstory. Let me set the scene.

I was crazy excited for this guy to come over. We met the other day in the mall. He was doing some kind of fitness presentation for a vitamin shop. He and one other guy and a girl were showing off their killer bodies in tight-fitting clothes and ridiculous poses.

I should’ve been offended when he, we’ll call him Thadeus (that just sounds so ridiculously cartoonish and perfect for this oddball), walked over and handed me a flyer for a discount personal training session as I sipped my whip cream topped frappe.

He was gorgeous in a Magnum P.I. kind of way. He had that super manly Selleck mustache. He was kind of a mix between a really hot bodybuilder and a 70s style porn star.

Remember this guy?

Remember this guy?

Scenes of me wearing roller skates while lying on my back with this guy thrusting his cock into me immediately came to mind. I think I might’ve even spaced out for a moment because I suddenly heard him say the word “Squats” and snapped out of it, realizing I was giving way too much tongue action to the large straw sticking out of the domed lid of my caffeinated treat.

“Squats?” I asked.

“Yes, we can go over squats and…” he droned on.

“What about the wheelbarrow?” I joked.

He didn’t seem to get it.

“You know where you get between my legs, lift them so I’m in a push up position, and we…you know…”

I was being a total slut but his naïve act was so cute. It was an act wasn’t it? God I hoped so.

Then it occurred to me that he might be gay.

“Wait, are you…do you like…are you gay?” I finally blurted out.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Gay? Like you’d rather be doing the wheelbarrow with…him,” I said as I pointed at his chisel chested buddy behind him.

He looked back and returned to me with both eyebrows raised.

“Oh God no. I like women. I like…you,” he said.

“You like me?” I asked.

“Umm, yeah.”

Oh I’m so going to fuck this guy.

So we set the date. He was going to come to my place to show me some of his workout routines and we’d have dinner.

The day came for our date and I was all giddy. I was nervous kind of. I hadn’t gotten fucked in a long time and you know the feeling, when you get that kind of stomach ache, but in your pussy. I was longing to be pounded. And if anybody could do it, surely a fucking body builder could…right?

He showed up looking delicious. He wore khaki shorts and a polo. Perfect for a night just lounging around my place. He carried in his hand a bottle of wine with a red ribbon wrapped around it and had a rolled up yoga mat under his arm. In his other hand was a gym bag.

Thadeus was gorgeous and ate sushi in a way that made my pussy tingle. His lips wrapped around each piece and his tongue seemed to linger on the fish before he bit and swallowed.

I was wet.

No, wet isn’t the word.

My pussy was dripping. Under the table I was doing the thigh master workout without the device.

I was workin' it, just like this

I was workin’ it, just like this

You know what I mean, girls.

I was opening my legs, then squeezing them tightly together, putting just enough pressure on my clit and pussy to make me crave more.

Thank God I had the move down pat because Thadeus wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

He talked a lot.

And then he talked some more.

First he told me about his siblings. He had two brothers and a sister. I immediately wondered if his brother was equally as hot but knew when to shut up.

Then he started telling me about the time he almost joined the military and was supposed to ship off to basic training but didn’t go because of family matters.

I just wanted to get fucked. I didn’t give a shit about his dog or his roommate or his college studies. I didn’t fucking care that he once trained Kanye West’s personal assistant.

Who the fuck cares?

Then he told me about the Chicago concert he recently went to and how great it was. I asked if Peter Cetera was back with the band and he laughed and said it was just as good without him. Chicago just as good without Peter Cetera? He was seriously starting to piss me off.

You don't fuck with Peter Cetera!

You don’t fuck with Peter Cetera!

But he was damn good looking.

Then he started talking about Christmas. What the fuck? Christmas? His favorite holiday?

Finally, I reached under the table and ran my hand up his thigh. His voice got a little higher but he didn’t stop yapping.

I unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and slid my fingernails lightly over it.

He tensed in his seat.

And started telling me the advantages of doing yoga in the morning.

I leaned one elbow on the table and smiled at him.

“Yoga, huh?” I asked as I gave him my sexiest smile.

At least I think it’s sexy. It seemed to work on Braden at the carnival. If you haven’t read that adventure, click HERE so you don’t miss it. And it worked on Valentino when he fucked me on the beach in Cancun. You can read about that one HERE.

“Yes, yoga is so beneficial…”

He was stiffening in my hand and he was big. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore his voice as I stroked his cock beneath the table. He was going to fuck me this night, whether he realized it or not. He would not be leaving my house until I felt taken care of.

And he kept talking. About puppies and about his favorite movie, Rocky 4.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I got out of my seat, crawled beneath the table, and wrapped my lips around the head of his dick. Just the head. I licked beneath, wiggling my tongue back and forth. I heard something thud against the table and could only assume it was a fist.

“Oh shit,” I heard him say.

Yes, finally, soak this up and use it to have something fucking interesting to talk about later, ya douche.

I put my teeth there just below his head and rolled my tongue around the tip. He clenched in his seat and smacked the table again.

“Fuck, Mandy, that’s…that feels good.”

So I took him all the way in my mouth, sucking his cock like each time up and down was putting money in the bank. Ka-ching! Ka-ching! Ka-ching!

Then he pulled away from me. I wasn’t expecting that and I kind of stumbled forward and smacked my forehead on the hard seat, where he was no longer sitting.

“What the fuck?” I blurted out.

“Come here,” he said.

I crawled out from under the table thinking, “Hell yeah. Now it’s my turn.”

He swiped the tablecloth off the table with one hand, sending the sushi containers and plates to the floor. I was pretty sure I heard one of them break. But I didn’t care. I just wanted to come.

He picked me up and put me on the table on my back.

He is going to eat the shit out of me. Oh this is gonna be good.

Then he climbed onto the table, I have a pretty big family-style table, and sat on his knees right next to my face.

What the fuck is this?

He leaned forward a little and let his balls hover right above my face. They were bald, smooth, and kind of cute in a strange they’re-fucking-balls kind of way.

But still, I had the end game in sight, so I took his balls in my mouth, the whole sack, and let my tongue go to work.

I reached down to finger myself and my panties were soaked. My finger stuck a little as it tried to pass over my panties. I reached up to take his hand and pulled him towards my thighs, trying to give him the hint that sixty-nine would be great.

Ever heard of killing two birds with one stone, dummy?

He swung his leg over me so his asshole and balls were right above my head so I took his cock in my mouth and lifted my hips a little, trying to put my pussy closer to his face.

He seemed to get the point as I felt his hand touch me. A finger or two petted me. Petted me like I’m a fucking dog or something.

“Yes,” I said.

Yes, that’s where I want your mouth.

And he stroked me harder. By this time my mouth was working all on its own because my head wasn’t in it. My mind was busy with the clumsy hand action going on between my legs.

“That feels good,” I lied, trying to motivate him enough to do a little more.

Finally his hand went beneath my panties and a finger found my clit. It swirled around it a little and it was nice.

Ok, this just might work out.

“Yes, baby,” I said. “Eat my pussy.”

I could practically hear the sound of the DJs record scratching. Thadeus’s internal music paused and he made a sound that I shit you not sounded like Scooby Doo.

Huh? Shaggy?

“Huh?” he said.

“Lick me,” I said. “Like I’m licking you.”

“Umm,” he said. “I don’t do that.”

I swatted his dick away from my face like it was an annoying fly. And it came back just like one. So I swatted it again.

“Get the fuck off me,” I said.

He rolled off the table and stood there with his cock standing hard at attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought things were going good.”

“Good?” I asked. “What do you mean you don’t eat pussy?”

“I’m just not comfortable with it,” he said.

“Not comfortable? Well sucking your dick isn’t exactly a trip to the day spa.”

Sucking dick is not the same as this (Image courtesy of marin at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

Sucking dick is not the same as this (Image courtesy of marin at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

He was silent.

I kicked him out. Yes, I Mandy, kicked a naked hunk out of my fucking house because he wouldn’t go down on me. This isn’t motherfucking Burger King, guys. It isn’t your way right away.

Haven’t you ever heard that it’s better to give than to receive? Well that means you. Cause I give plenty and sometimes I just want to fucking receive.

Am I wrong ladies?

Sometimes we just want to come home from work, get naked on the couch, and have our man tongue our pussy for a little while without wanting anything in return.

Don’t get me wrong. I like to suck dick too. I like the control I feel when I’m down there.

But today was one of those days where I could have really used a man’s mouth between my thighs.

So in honor of Thadeus and his ridiculous fucking comfort level, I’m announcing that today, the 9th of August, 2015, is the start of National Pussy Eating Day.

So ladies, have your men read this diary entry. Fellas, if you’re reading this, you know what to do.

Eat that pussy.

Now, I’m going to get out my little pink book and look for any name of any guy who’d be willing to honor a new holiday.

Thanks for reading,

Mandy

If you want to check out the Mandy books or any other book written by C.C. Genovese, please click on the following link to go to his author page: http://www.amazon.com/C.C.-Genovese/e/B00TW2B4I4

2 comments to A Kitty Lickin’ Holiday (Mandy Diary Entry 4)

  • C.C.  says:

    Thank you, Kelly! I’m glad you liked it.

    Chris

  • Kelly  says:

    Hilarious! <3

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