love – aMediocreMan

The Purple Fedora Incident (Jude’s big balls)

Image from ebay.com (This is from my site: www.hipsterstories.wordpress.com, probably the greatest hipster/emo love story of all time.)

The day after Jude emptied his manhood all over Clemmy’s back, he was working at Randall’s and feeling like an absolute stud.

He walked around the place like he owned it. He couldn’t stop stroking his mustache while looking into the air with a confidant gaze. He truly felt like a new man.

He almost forgot he was working when two jocks approached the counter. Generally, jocks didn’t come in to Randall’s, but they were becoming more commonplace since a YouFit gym was recently built down the street.

The jocks were both dressed in Nike workout shorts and bright, fluorescent dri-fit shirts. They were muscly, sweaty and their demeanor cocky.

“Hey fedora boy, do you guys have any protein smoothies like Starbucks has,” said Jock 1 as Jock 2 laughed in approval.

Without saying a word, Jude pointed to the menu board behind him that listed two protein smoothies. Jude didn’t have a high opinion of jocks and automatically assumed both of them were less than average readers.

“Oh, so hairy face boy thinks he’s too good to talk to us. We’ll take two Guava paste, whey protein smoothies, extra large. We’ll be waiting at that table in the corner, just bring them over to us after you make them,” said Jock 2. Continue reading “The Purple Fedora Incident (Jude’s big balls)”

a hipster massage

(This is from my website: www.hipsterstories.wordpress.com)

Scene: Clemmy goes to Jude’s apartment to give him a massage. He is still floating in his Xanax dream when she arrives. She is wearing a robe to hide the clothes underneath so it will be a surprise.

Clemmy walked in to Jude’s apartment and he greeted her with a languid, sloppy hug.

“Wow, those pills really seem to be working. Now take your shirt off, lay on the coffee table because I’m about to blow your mind,” she said.

From her gingham bag, Clemmy pulled out four patchouli candles, patchouli massage oil and her cassette player. With Jude laying face down on the coffee table she lit the candles, dropped her robe to the ground and pushed “play” on the cassette.

Thelonious Monk live in Paris 1967 filled the air as she dimmed the lights.

She dripped the patchouli massage oil on the middle of Jude’s upper back and whispered into his ear:

“Just relax my sweet Jude. Picture yourself riding your fixed-gear bike alone on the beach as the waves gently splash the shore while I await you with a vegan Kale shake.”

Jude let out a soft moan as he began to sink into the coffee table like it was luxurious Marriott hotel pillow. Continue reading “a hipster massage”

Face in the pillow (hipster sex)

(This is from my hipster blog: www.hipsterstories.wordpress.com It’s a hipster/emo love story)

After the protest, Clemmy found herself sexually attracted to Jude like never before. Watching him stand up to Billy Emo without a shed of fear absolutely toasted her hairy loins.

His new-found manliness reminded her of a quote in Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer; “I have found God, but he is insufficient.” Jude was her God now.

“Tonight’s the night. Take me to your apartment and put my face in the pillows,” she whispered into his ear.

She wanted to be ravaged by her man. She wanted her stud to relieve all those weeks of built-up tension and anxiety. She wanted her man to provide that cathartic release she had been missing for so long.

Hand in hand, they both rushed to Jude’s apartment; his mustache blowing in the wind and her female scent escaping into the night air. They barely made it inside the door before Jude’s tongue was licking the side of her face. His greasy mustache brushed up and down her cheek, turning her skin red.

She let out a strangled moan of sheer, hipster ecstasy. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh.”

In one motion, he pushed her through the doorway, spun her around almost violently onto his couch. He pushed her face into the couch pillows, pulling her butt into the air as her back arched. Continue reading “Face in the pillow (hipster sex)”

the lost milf- dancing Al Roker

Dancing Al Roker (the lost milf)

her main job for the day is to take the kids to and from school. They are older now so the task has become considerably easier. Their Iphones have the alarm clocks now and they no longer care for breakfast.

“The bus leaves in 10 minutes,” she warns them each morning.

her bus is an extended Chevy Suburban with those cute stickers on the back window that helps everyone understand exactly how many kids and pets she has now. The windows are tinted as dark black as legally possible so no one can see her face absent of make up that earlier in the morning. The crows feet are deeper now and the dark circles widen with each year.

after dropping them off, kisses blown and back to the house. Once inside, time for the magical breakfast 5-4-3 cocktail……..5 grapes followed by 4 crushed and snorted Oxy’s followed by a glass of water with 3 lemon slices………….ah, let the numb morning begin. Continue reading “the lost milf- dancing Al Roker”