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by Cyb |
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Although my affections for Sneaky and his chocolaty goodness are growing to swelling proportions day by day, I must confess to lingering lusts for Master. How could I not still feel for him? How could I still not want to lick his head? I am still mostly sane, after all, and these are the desires of a sane man. No one can deny the lickability of Master's smooth cranium. And yet, I feel like I am cheating on Sneaky with my V. V. lustful thoughts. Should I confess to him? Should I tell him about my feelings for Master? The reason I bring this up, Diary, is that when Fruity arrived with his sixth delivery of produce for the day, I felt the hot tinge of flaming envy! It flames like the hot pink satin of my favorite disco pants! They left together this evening (Fruity and Master, not Fruity and Enrique's disco pants) and... Diary, I do not know how to say it. But. Master was wearing the fabric that dare not speak its name. Yes, that is right, he was wearing flannel. The sight of it made me weep horribly! He uttered something about going with Fruity to play Lumberjack in the woods. Well, it was something about "jack" and "wood", but I was weeping too loud to hear it correctly. I assume this was what he said. I can only hope
Sneaky brings me something good for Valetines Day
tomorrow to take my mind off these matters. |
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