Thursday, 21 July 2011

Quest for the Hairy Grail

We moved yesterday. As a convicted chubby chaser, it's an ideal place for me and I already know one for the neighbors, but as for the rest of them, I can only say, there are a lot of very funny people about.

So we got talking about tentacle sex, and I thought I may go try it out, after all, what can happen to me when I haven't even got a vagina.

"Damn! I haven't got a pussy!"

I was obviously aware that I was lacking a Tuna Taco, but had not previously felt any desire for a snatch of my own.

But suddenly I felt incomplete, like there was a hole inside... or to be more accurate, the lack of a hole. I felt humiliated, like I was somehow less-than a woman. I deserve a slit, I should have one. Muff isn't a privileged, it's a right.

But why would I need one? Would I even use it.... does that matter? Then I felt a bit pervy for wanting an item which is essentially for doing stuff on pose balls. It's fap-candy.

But then the anger welled up inside of me, "No, I won't feel guilty, It's my right, I want a CUNT!"

Yes we laughed about it my baby and I. We had seen them for sale in a shop a while ago, and giggled like school girls that there were a range of options... even sound effects. We wondered if we could get fart noises.

Then it occurred to me, if I'm going to get a smush mitten, I want it to be a good one, in fact it has to be the best beaver! I'm not going to have just any old rubbish between my legs.

"Now we know it fits like a glove,
we just have to find one in red."
It's unlikely that anyone will ever see my trim close up, let alone use it, but I'll know, I will know. So what to get? It's not something you normally get a chance to choose for yourself... then the thought hit me! I should let my significant other chose my love tunnel for me. After all, she's the cunny connoisseur, I'm sure she'll find me a gash as gorgeous as the rest of me, with flange that suits her delicate taste. Then I'll be sitting on something special... I'll cherish wear it always!

But where do you find SecondLife's premier poonani?  I'm sure there is likely to be the full range of minge available, a panacea of pootang. From mouse-ears to wizard sleeve, hospital corners to a clowns pocket, bacon kebab, camel toe, melon, Chewbacca, Hitler, Enoch and Vin Diesel (*winks at Chaz*).

So the quest is on for the perfect pudding mound, the cutest cooch - preferably a self cleaning model. I don't want to rush into anything, some serious research is called for. Choosing will be a tough job and we wouldn't want to make a ham-fist of it. Expert help is required, a wise woman with knowledge of such things... a slut of epic proportions with experience of handling pink-purse and flipping fur-burgers. If you know anyone, please put their name forward in the comments section. Meantime I'll be trawling the clip joints and titty bars.