• Mathura Hawley

bf

Updated: Aug 2, 2021


As he pulled himself over, Luke cannonballed onto me from the other direction as if he were sliding into home base, which thanks to him, I would never get to. "

One cool Saturday evening, last Fall, a date was at my apartment and Luke had finally stopped barking his protest at him. Luke doesn't like to share me with other men unless they give him immediate, sincere and focused attention including the cooing of his name. Then he decides if he will relent to my pleading to please allow me a few minutes of attention from someone else. My begging is disguised as a stern talking to, forcing him into a backyard timeout, the opening of the treat jar made as silent interspecies negotiation, and finally, the old fallback, a big fat bribe of a new rawhide bone, which he will grab and take up onto his sofa perch to gnaw. It works perfectly. Unless the guy touches me. Then it begins all over again. I was kissing this guy at the other end of my sofa, my right arm around him, my left disappearing secretly off under a pillow, where it rested on Luke's backside. Each time I heard a tiny whine of disapproval I pushed down on Luke's ass like a warning: if you ruin this for me I will kill you. And it usually works, for a little while, until someone moans, shifts or stands up, or until Luke thinks the kiss is going a bit too far. The guy paused our kiss and pulled back, said something sexy and began to slide over onto my lap. Oh no, I thought. As he pulled himself over, Luke cannonballed onto me from the other direction as if he were sliding into home base, which thanks to him, I would never get to. The guy literally fell off the sofa and onto the floor. "I'm so sorry," I said, "he's like my kid." The guy stood up and put on his coat. "Dude, that dog isn't your kid, he's your boyfriend." Later, Luke and I ordered pizza.


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