Sex Quest
'Peter' (overcome with summertime sights of gals having flaunted various nonpresentable parts such as arms, legs, feet, more of their bodies to/against him and others in general public view in public places) is the target at the supermarket. The gals are after him for sex. Everyone frankly speaks their minds audibly:
[Peter sees Gal #1 coming toward him, and then bump into his grocery cart.
He notices that she is randomly exposing her loose-longhaired mopheadedness to everyone
(that is: LOOSE long hair hanging below her mouth-level)]
Gal #1: Excuse me. I would like you to have quickie sex with me, which includes some great rectal insertions if possible. I'll pay for the room at the Radisson. If you don't, I will get my male dentist to sexually caress my cheek as he drills me. Besides, I'm a Darwinian evolutionist.
Peter: No thanks. You're exposing LOOSE long hair to general mixed-gender public view.
[Gal #2, wearing a sleeveless dress baring her naked arms, approaches Peter and 'accidently' drops a can of peaches into his cart, then remarks:]
Gal #2: Pardon me. Could we please give each other a mutually-nude exchange massage together, followed by intense fellatio and hopefully more? I can rent the motel room at the Sheridan. If you turn me down, I will get my male chiropractor to rub my bared body all over. Moreoever, I support the homogay agenda, and am a fanatical feminist.
Peter: I'll pass. You're semi-indecently misattired with sleeveless dress, thus immodesty exposing your nude arms.
[Gal #3, having on a shortened skirt with no socks under her sandals, bumps into Peter as he is fondling some paper towels, then exclaims]
Gal #3: Oh, I'm so sorry. Incidently, how about some coital intercourse as soon as possible? I have enough money for the room at the Embassy Suites or Holiday Inn. If you refuse, I'll have my male gyno probe my private parts. Besides that, I firmly support abortion homicide murder of non-born children in the wombs, and am an atheistic communist.
Peter: My schedule won't allow it, particularly because you are immodestly misdressed with shortened skirt baring your naked legs, and without socks under your sandals exposing your nude toes and ankles.
[Peter then sees a really cute gal without any ring on the 4th finger of her left hand on tiptoes stretching up for a can of beans too high for her to easily reach. He steps up to her, grabs the can, and puts it into her cart. Down another aisle, she drops a box of cereal and Peter promptly picks it up and puts that into her cart. After Peter checks out his groceries at the checkout counter and is leaving, the really cute gal asks Peter:]
Really Cute Gal: Excuse me, Peter, but could you give me a ride home with these groceries? The limo service who transported me here is so busy, and my motorcar is being repaired in the garage. If you find my request inappropriate, I could perhaps enlighten you as to how four of the eight memorable masseuses in your past sex life are now doing who you (under the duress of sexual-harassment immodesty you never solicited) committed various degrees and types of nonmarried immorality with: Cindy of Miami ('75), Kathy of Lake St in Mpls ('76), Debbie of Blaine ('78), and Angie of Lake St in Mpls ('85).....who (if anyone) they are now living with.....and suggest that they contact you a.s.a.p. at your home, business, or church so they can perhaps get in touch with you again?
Peter: If I were a bishop or deacon, I would not deliver you to your suburban mansion and accompany you to the garage now servicing your Rolls Royce, nor wonder why some guy never married you by now, nor see to it that we fill out a private pre-nuptial exam and contract, then shower naked with you nude in your million-dollar country-estate mansion, culminating in very imaginative and erotically-fulfilling orgasmic sex with you in your PosturePedic-NASA-foam bed.
Reall Cute Gal: Even bishops and deacons can have a secret concubine
who is not an extra wife, can't they?