Slow Boil
It is two in the morning and I have to have it. This slow boil is getting to be a habit. I wake up in the middle of the night with urgent desires. It’s impossible to resist no matter how much I know I should. Maybe I can sneak out without waking anyone up this time. I’m pretty sure I am pushing my luck at this point, but some things are worth the risk. This is definitely one of them.
As I tiptoe through the house I think about last time and my whole body starts to tingle. Memories of my previous nighttime exploits run through my mind and the sensation gets stronger and stronger. After what feels like an eternity, I finally arrive at my destination. The one room in the house I want to be in almost as much as i want to continue breathing. For a few moments I just stand there looking inside. One question immediately comes to my mind. How long will it take to heat things up? Patience has never been my strongest virtue.
Waiting
All of my senses are awakened. I think of how it is going to feel, look, smell, taste, and even sound. Especially how it will sound. I tend to be a bit on the noisy side when it comes to these matters. I get things started. Maybe practice really does make perfect. I manage to be much quieter than last time. A few moans do escape my lips as it gets hotter and hotter, but that’s to be expected. Finally, just when I thought I could wait no longer, it comes to a boil. Satisfaction has arrived at last. I creep back to my bedroom with what I am sure is an extra smug look on my face. I think to myself these kosher hot dogs are worth every extra penny.
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