Let Steve Burke Woo You, Honey

Hey, baby. I know it’s only been a couple of days since we first met—since that fateful evening when you walked into the Club Sports Council meeting, representing the Women’s Synchronized Swimming team. You were so full of wonder, so full of life; with an ample bosom and an inquisitive mind. Now, baby, I finally have you and tonight, we shall make sweet, sweet love. Steve Burke is a serious player.

On my way home from class yesterday I stopped by Walgreens and picked up a bottle of Doc Johnson Sweet Strawberry massage oil. Very erotic. Very sensual. Very berry. Steve Burke also purchased an off-brand pine-scented candle. And like my desire for your loins, it’s been burnin’ continuously in my room. When we’re enjoying intimate times tonight we will be draped in the carnal blend of Nordic forest and endless strawberry fields. It will be oh-so titillating as the scents and our bodies meld together into one common denominator of ecstasy.

As long as Jeff keeps his room closed because he stinks to high heaven. Also Jeff has very few interpersonal skills and his lazy eye can be quite off-putting for someone who doesn’t know Jeff like Steve Burke does.

Forgive me though, sweet thang. I have rushed into this tantalizing description. Before even the first article of clothing is shed, and we will cover ourselves in Doc Johnson’s Sweet Strawberry massage oil, we will gorge ourselves on the Kirkland Brand frozen chicken that I have stored in my freezer. I will overcook it so as to ensure that our night of debauchery will not be interrupted by bouts of food poisoning; the meal will be as dry as you will be moist. I also have a box of Carmel Delite Girl Scout Cookies (your favorite) that we can crumble onto our skin and gently nibble off of each other for dessert.

Jeff might want to watch this. And we should be accommodating to ensure that he does not scream into my window the rest of the night.

Now picture this, honey. My bed. My fingers. A slow jam of alternating Bing Crosby and Barry White. My sheets are clean. My rug has been vacuumed. My other rug has been trimmed. I am awaiting your sweet caress.

Holla at ya boy.

Originally published: March 2014

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