When we stepped into the small cluttered office of Dr. Porn I pressed on fervently, savoring the youthful wet folds caressing years of neglect from my hypersensitive organ. “You know, my former assistant wouldn’t mind if you stopped by again.”
“Not again, Doc – well, maybe if she’s got a butt load of prime herb,” I retorted, “Unfortunately, I gotta think about getting home pretty quick before my folks call missing persons.”
“I appreciate your candor, my young friend and please keep this conversation confidential. Finally, with a back pack full of cannabis, I climbed aboard the Trailways and maintained a low, paranoid profile all the way home until my stash was safely stowed. Throughout the conversation, I found I now spoke with new found purpose and confidence.
