While the female mannequin appeared multi orgasmic at the hands of my boyfriend, I could not find the male mannequin’s g-spot. It was just a smooth piece of plastic and the ins and outs of anything’s asshole, including my own, remain thankfully mysterious. But I finally found it. Boy, did I find it. The female mannequin was subdued in comparison, this thing went off like a land mine.HT to the eternally vexed and irritable Canuckess, Kathy Shaidle, who titles the link: "Confirmed. We didn't kill enough Germans." She occasionally opines similarly about Japanese and atomic bombs. And in detail about southern Italians. And people think I'm a curmudgeon. And she's young(is). And female. And Catholic. And Canadian! From Ontario!
“OH YEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” it echoed across the quiet floor, causing everyone in earshot to whirl around and find me knuckle deep in a mannequin’s asshole. For a moment they all just stared and my previous lax attitude vanished. I could see it now; dumb American girl gives mannequin ball-shattering orgasm, gets kicked out of Europe.
Or so I thought until everyone in the place started cheering, including my boyfriend.
A group of British guys came over to congratulate me on my apparent sexual prowess, giving me high fives and patting me on the back as they did. One dude jokingly held his hand up to his ear and whispered, “Call me.”
Hey, who said the decline and fall of a civilization lacked moments of humor?