Bootylicious


Marco is very expressive. He gestures freely when he speaks, and squints his eyes when searching for that elusive English word: voluptuous… seduction… tease…

He loves women. His eyes often stray from conversation when a beautiful woman walks by. This morning we were discussing Israeli people.

“They are very sharp,” he said. “I think it’s all that military service they do. You can’t get anything by an Israeli.”

He took a puff on the joint and went on.

“I met an Israeli girl in Guatemala once…”

A faraway look came into his eye. I knew immediately he was recalling her body, her lips.

“She was… how do you call it… booda-licious?”

Booty-licious,” I corrected him.

“Ah yes, booty-licious,” he laughed. “Booty-licious. Yes, this girl was very booty-licious. She had an ass like a Chinese spice bowl, you know?”

A Chinese spice bowl?

“When you spanked it, it was like, firm.”

He continued puffing on the joint, recalling this particular ass with great satisfaction.

“Great breasts…” he went on, gesturing like he was holding two watermelons. “Great breasts…”

He drifted off, forgetting his present surroundings, and let the smoke curl from his lips. When he finally returned, he was smiling.

“Anyways, yes! Israelis are very sharp people, aren’t they? There’s no inhibition about the Israelis! They tell you exactly what they’re thinking!”

 

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