Pineapple
I came back from having a cigarette outside.
Mr B leaned back, with a look on his face I can only describe as wilfully destructive. "I never go down on women who smoke. Their cunts taste like an ash-tray," he said.
This may be true, but I don't think he should have used the present-tense in front of his wife. Although, despite being in a crowded bar, she was doing a crossword puzzle, so his interest in other women should be unsurprising to her.
"Mine tastes like pineapple," I said, elaborating no further.
He looked awestruck, and worse, intrigued.
There may be trouble ahead.
8 comments:
the mind boggles.
you know this ... how, exactly?
I've got the tune to Finn's Pineapple Head going through my mind :)
Yes- I Do like Pina Colada!
Yes, add me to the Intrigued list.
:)
"Ha, Ha," I said, elaborating no further.
If I didn't know better I'd think that y'all are trying to get Mme. Smith to admit to being a wanker...
Oh are they? There are other ways of finding these things out, you know....
Goodness gracious! Does one really have to ask? What an unappreciative lover you must be - does your mating ritual consist merely of you presenting your bottom to your partner, like a rutting baboon?
I think I shall have to close comments on this one... Mr Smith will have a fit.
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