BEST & WORST
SESSIONS & EXPERIENCES – part II

Best#3: Sunset Lodge at Age 13 – April 1, 19??. Every teen boy with a permanent erection needs to live near a town such as Myrtle Beach. Boys need also to have an uncle Jeb with a sense of humor, who will send him away prepaid for a few days to a Xanadu bordello of hot ultravixens. The ladies may gently introduce the boy to the many fine arts of dfk, daty, bbjteow, succulent breast stroking & nipple licking, daty, Baptist mish, cowgirl, woof woof, and daty.
Once upon a time outside of Georgetown, SC, nestled amongst huge ancient oak trees bedecked with Spanish moss, there was the Sunset Lodge, a vixen home, not just a house. Blaze was the firey auburn-tressed Madame who presided over this Georgian twenty-room mansion of naughty vixens. She took very good care of the politicians, Baptist preachers, and senior LE of the Carolinas. Rumor has it that Billy Graham had his first bj at the Sunset Lodge, with a Marilyn look-alike of course, maybe Elle of Apres Vous. He prayed with her in between his third and fourth bj, praying for strength. Strom was a regular, and courted the tall exotic Tanzanian vixen, a Naomi Campbell look-alike, who laughed and was happy, not like those starving models who look pissed off because they are so hungry all the time. Strom's portrait as a young man in the late 1700s hangs in the card room. The vixens usually visited Sunset for a month at a time and stayed in little cottages out in the wooded gardens. Those were off limits. Right. The House of the Rising Sun in N’Orleans was another like Sunset, but mostly with hot Cajun Queen Vixens, who were always very oral. A third was in Hollywood Hills and another in a Pacific Heights Mansion of San Fran.
On Sunday morning after Easter, an April 1 it was, uncle Jeb took young 007-Rhett to the Lodge for breakfast, introduced teen Rhett to Blaze, a blonde, and brunette, and did the disappearing-uncle act for three days. These most definitely were not Church Ladies. They had large pulsating bosoms. One looked like Heather Barron. Another was a leggy Amanda of Dallas twin, Catherine the DC college girl from Paris, or a Taylor Wane. The wrap-around-leggy brunette from Memphis could have been Candy Roxxx, Heather of Houston, or Samantha of DC, rookie of the year. Poor Rhett was bedazzled by these full pouty painted lips and wide mouths that surely could take in a little league baseball bat. There was so much milk in those beckoning breasts that were struggling for freedom, two at a time. Would there be any rescue for young 007? No way.
Amanda and Heather led Rhett upstairs after breakfast, for an early brunch, which means breast-lunch at the Sunset. They first gave the boy his first attended bubble bath, with champagne, strawberries, and whipped cream. The bottle was green with white flowers, must have been Perrier Jouet. Then they led the terrified lad into a large Victorian bedroom, and took his protective towel away from him. The exquisite candlelit room was elegantly furnished, with a huge canopied bed, and a loveseat big enough for three. Wagner played in the background.
It was hardly noon, much too soon for sleep. 007 wondered what was in store for him at the hands of these very naughty women. Already this was his best life experience, much more fun than doubles with Suzie and Megan in the school nurse’s office. More of this scary journey on Friday.

Worst#3: The Vixen from Hell – Never, never, ever call a vixen in the Yellow Pages, classified, City Paper, or whose number is scrawled on the inside door of the men’s room, not even of the Ritz Carlton. It was a very sick unfunny joke, pre-TER of course. Always look out through the peephole in the door to check for trolls. If you once forget, the Vixen from Hell walks in – 6’3, built like a flabby part-Samurai Russian tank, cross-eyed, odiferous, not very dainty at all. She wore combat boots. “Where’s my hunerd dollars,” she bellowed in a masculine bass voice. “Gimmee another hunerd and I’ll take my clothes off,” she croaked with a cigarette incipient lung-cancer voice. I went to the door, walked out, and put a hundred on the hallway floor. She went for it. I said "That's so you keep your clothes on!", and snuck back in, locked and barred the door. Time for a Stephen King novel. She might be in it! LOL

Part III coming soon.