Sex and the University ~ the blog

if you haven’t read my previous posts: in a few words, the sex has been… not happening because the partner’s instrument was not hard enough.

Hello BabyCarrot,

There is something you should know about me. Until 2008, I lived in a cucumber field. You know, where the stuff is hard on the outside, hard on the inside, always ready for appreciation (have you ever had a cucumber that doesn’t taste ready? I haven’t) and uhm, well, geometrically interesting. And then I met you, BabyCarrot. Or should I say BabyBanana? is there something softer than a banana?

A wise friend of mine enlightened me today-

W: Jules, cupcake, we’re all bananas. It takes more than a kiss to be ripe and ready.
J: Nah, Honey, I think you should only speak for yourself and all other (ethnicity that I won’t name)
W: Actually, cupcake, it’s probably because your cucumber plantation were all uh, what do you call them… (scratches his head) VIRGINS. Virgins get hard like… sitting on a bus.
J: Nooooo you did not just throw that in my face

And then W-the-wise informed me that I looked deliciously Tomato-like. And a lazy one at that. Fine, BabyCarrot/Banana-would-be-Eggplant-if-I-weren’t-so-lazy-and-impatient. I sincerely apologize, and rrrrrrr (scratch my head, nose, right ankle, look elsewhere) I miss you.

Looking forward to not being lazy with you,
J.