Sexual In Your Window


“Dad, what does sexual in your window mean?” Not a question I was prepared to answer my four year old because part of me wanted nothing to do with a conversation involving sexual innuendo with my daughter and the other part, that premature, I mean immature part of me wanted to make a joke about sex, stalking, and peeping Toms. But the question was asked and I had to attempt to explain it. Other questions followed as she grew up like the one that nearly caused me to drive off the road after she inquired what “Dad, what does eff you” mean? She even lifted her middle finger to extenuate the inquiry on our way to kindergarten. Or the time a few years later when she wanted to know why everyone was mad at President Clinton for doing oral sex with Lewis Insky. That one took some serious thinking because it was on the news hourly. Anyway, here’s how NOT to explain sexual innuendo to a child.

Sexual innuendo, double entendres or just sex puns. The more you play with it the bigger it gets so think long and hard before entering. Once you rise to the occasion you can go deeper and deeper into it. I try not to use sexual innuendos much because using them incorrectly can make you go down, and then its not easy to get it up again. Just about anything you pull out of your vocabulary can hint at one sexual practice or another. Something as normal as wood becomes a solid morning image and if its not standing tall its hard to beat. We use wood to erect structures and if a woman is looking for it you can give her the lumber and she’ll crack a smile. It can get downright indecent which is to say is if its long enough, hard enough, and deep enough, its in decent.
Maybe its because we have so many nicknames for our sex organs. Penis, dick, prick, cock, wiener, boner, and these are just some the ones that can be ‘slipped in’ a normal conversation. I grabbed the thorn bush and pricked myself. If I fold it over I will be half cocked. I like my wiener on nice soft buns and so do my buddy’s Dick Hertz and Hugh Jerkoff. On one hand you could have the member and in the other the shaft, its stiff competition between the two. Its easy to make a boner.
The vajay jay is no different. Vagina, pussy, snatch, twat, slit, box. The pussy cat slit the box with her claw to snatch the magic prize. The lady garden cream pie has been compared to a beaver, kitty, love pie, love tunnel, and a poon whatever the hell that is. The nether regions get explored with a cave dwelling love stick in search of a happy humping with an exciting climax. With so many slang terms for the various sex acts and the tools used to perform them its near impossible not to cum across an innuendo.
Basically I try not to give a bang to innuendos because on the hole they take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’ but they often slip out and you could get screwed in the end. I can’t put my finger on it but most of us have our minds in the gutter and like it there. A man and woman like to get something straight between them and they can do that by acting on whatever pops up.

Sex is in our face all the time sometime even sitting on it. We use sexual sport analogies, I got to second base then went in for the score. My bat was raised and her glove was open. Touchdown! In food, what she needs is a hot beef injection, maybe I should give her my sausage. I’m so hungry I could eat at the “Y”, maybe have a bearded clam or fur lined taco. Automotive, give her a lube job with my dipstick, that’ll grease my nuts. We are constantly pre-occupied with sex. Even the technical explanation of why we laugh at sex jokes is suggestive. What comes off our tongues is processed in our pre frontal cortex and the laugh cums in and out of the temporal lobe. We love getting it on and from what I hear men think about doing it every sex seconds while it takes a women sixty nine. No wonder everything we hear can relate back to sex.

A common vulgar sexual term is fuck. Popular misconception is it came from Fornication Under Consent of King, or Forced Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, and while an entertaining bit of trivia the truth is it a derivative of some dudes name, John Fukker. But that doesn’t stop us from fucking an sucking our way into a multitude of sneaky ways to get it in a conversation. Getting laid, the old in and out, screwing, humping, banging, poking, shagging, or other acts like going down on, sucking off, polishing the helmet, giving head, eating out, jacking off, and on an on. There must be fifty ways to fuck your lover. We love double in tenders and in your endo’s.
So I will try to keep you abreast of innuendos and entendres without making you feel the boob. I usually put out on the first date because I’m loose. I prefer it tight but I’ll take it anyway I can get it. It will help me if you respond to my explorations because I do have a big ego but I prefer to not stroke my own. I like having it stroked for me. If you’re up for it we can enter a discussion but I suck at them and I get licked in debates. Then I end up with it all over my face. Hope I laid it out for you in a way will stand up in court……..Piece, I mean PEACE

Experienced Waitress wanted (hopefully and up and comer!)

“Is That A Rolling Pin Under Your Apron or are You Just Happy To See Me?”

My very first restaurant experience was enlightening in many ways. I was hired to ensure the sanitation of the entire establishment be maintained throughout the dining experience. I proudly bore an exalted title than made me the envy of my school. “Potwasher,” a title that’s far more demeaning than the inoccent name would imply. But fuck it man, I didn’t care. Other friends had jobs in deli’s, gas stations, or retail stores and shit. They had easier jobs, but I had something they didn’t. Easily accessible alcohol, fun loving dudes to joke around with, and HOT waitresses.
So there I was, at the suds busting helm of a sink full of soapy water smiling away at all the hotties. My raging sixteen year old hormones were smiling too. Even the older waitresses were HOT. I quickly learned of the extra advantage of apron wearing which could conceal my budding enthusiasm. Cuz the waitresses were HOT! I used the traditional three compartment sink method, wash, rinse, and cold water to cool my jets in. It wasn’t just that though, I was accepted.
Most people who are “Quirky” out on the fringe of society at age 16 get made fun of a lot. That or run off to the circus or carnival to blend in with other “freaks” But not this young lad, I headed straight for the restaurant life. Working at a restaurant was a religious experience for me. I was like holy shit man, there’s people here even weirder than me. A good restaurant is filled with artists. Struggling actors, singers, comediennes, and writers. That was mostly in the front of the house but I was back of the house. Apparently they don’t get along in many establishments. I can understand the old fuckers in the back of the house but the young chefs? Don’t they see how HOT the wait staff is? Some of the staff were gay, but if guy on guy sex was up my alley I would have bent over backwards for those hunky servers. Dressed just as revealingly as the female counterparts the gay waiters were HOT too. Some so hot I may have considered switching sides from time to time, but the sea of sizzling sexy waitresses was way too plentiful. And HOT.
I loved the way the older waitresses flirted with me and I think I looked good in crimson red when they made me blush and laughed about it. The unflattering white cook shirt really complimented my reddened face. I didn’t care because I was in a kitchen and I could handle the heat and my perseverance paid off one particular evening. It was a tediously slow Monday night and the manager decided to let Kat, the thirty something head waitress close the restaurant. Kat was a divorced women with long blond hair in a shag cut that made her look younger. Deep blue eyes were highlighted by thick mascara and her eye shadow bore an even deeper shade of blue. I used to wonder if she was a model when she was younger, but I was a pup myself and somewhat naïve. She had the perfect face for a young boy to fantasize about, wearing more make up than she needed and pouting oversized lips painted gleaming hot red. Fantastic legs with bulging muscles even in her ankles. I spent many a break following those legs around the kitchen dreaming while trying not to get caught looking.
The chef and cooks broke down and left even before then, so it was just me and Kat in the restaurant. Kat was one of the women who loved to flirt with me to get me mumbling and flustered and goddamn was she good at it!. This Monday night she walked into the kitchen with her skirt higher than usual and asked me if I wanted a drink. I replied indeed I would and she told me to come on out to the bar and She’ll “give it to me.” I watched as she left the kitchen not able to take my eyes off her legs. Had to check the apron to make sure it didn’t reveal my own tightened muscle that had formed below. All clear so out to the bar.
Kat was behind the bar with her back to me. She turned around and caught me staring at her ass and smiled, “See something you like Hon?” I smiled weakly and thought to myself “Oh yea, I see something I really like.” As if she read my mind she grabbed two rocks glasses and walked over to me. “How bout this Hon?” She handed me one of the glasses. I drank half of it straight down in one fast gulp. “Easy Hon, you don’t want to go too fast.“ There was a throaty tease to her voice, but more obvious was the tease as she gently rubbed that muscle I was talking about. The blood shot up to my face so hard and so fast I thought someone hit me. With her other hand she reached up and unbuttoned three of the buttons of her blouse revealing three quarters of her smooth breasts barely covered with a thin flower print bra. She had my undivided attention. My apron muscle stood at attention as well. I pulled the apron string and let it drop to the floor. I launched a near attack on her breasts but she grabbed my hands, “Easy Tiger, no need to rush.” She skillfully undid my shirt and pulled it off an began sucking on my nipples, “This is how you do it Honey, nice and easy.”
The adrenalin that shot through my body was electric shock therapy. I never even thought women sucked on guys nipples but I was a fast learner. I returned the sensual gesture and paid total attention to her breasts, lovingly applying my tongue on her nipples. I could tell she liked it because she was making soft moaning noises of approval. I was so focused I barely even noticed that she had undone my pants. I pounded down whatever was left in the rocks glass for a little bravado. It went down easy yet burned all the way. I struggled out of my pants an underpants and Kat led me to the lounge and laid me on a cushioned bench. She remove her stockings and panties but not her dress. She just hiked it up an straddled me. Her skilled hand directed my heat seeking misle inside her and pumped away furiously. It felt so unbelievably good my inner self was ablaze and transcending rapidly. My entire circulatory system sang, danced, then gathered in my penis and threatened to make it explode violently. Kat slowed her pace as she moved up and down with artful slow rhythm and now it was me making sounds. I moaned and groaned and claimed my allegiance to god over and over as Kat just kept moaning simply “Yes, yes, Yes, oh yea.” Suddenly she got very loud and screamed “Oh god, here it is, I‘m coming, I‘m coming!” and then a AHHHhhhhh, that began really loud and got softer and slower by the second. Hearing her orgasm brought me to the breaking point. I exclaimed loudly “I think I’m gonna come,” but the warning was too late as I exploded my hormonal syrup, every last drop of it deep into her. The two of us lay there panting and moaning and panting some more. Like needles and pins blood pumped through my face and I fell in love for the very first time that very second!
Of course it wasn’t real love, Kat had zero interest in love especially with me, but I could feel it. I knew I was in love. We had sex a few more times after that night, mostly in her apartment. Kat never once made it feel awkward at work, I never bragged to anyone so no one knew what we did. One day something came up and she had to go back home to Kansas. I would never see her again, but neither would I ever forget her.
Kat schooled me in so many things, but nothing so expertly as pleasure, both how to please and how to be pleased. To this day looking at a waitress makes me horny and reminds me of my carnal adventures with Kat. I know she never loved me, that I merely served a purpose for her for a while but that’s okay. I would fall in and out love a hundred times more and have plenty of sexual adventures. Kat did way more for me than I ever could for her and she may be the true reason I fell in love with restaurants to begin with. I’ve had a great career as a chef and have my share of excurions so intense they would make Kitchen Confidential seem lame. I’ve been loved and been in love. But nothing will ever compare to the love I got from Kat the waitress. Thanks Kat, wherever you are!