Chuck's Harem

Chuck, are you Jamie?

I am one who sits at the door of your Harem pleading, nay, imploring you to hand over your prized blonde Mistress.

But alas, I fear I must make my way to the lands of the South to feel the nape of her navel once more.

I thank you. May Allah deal bountifully with this Harem.

It is possible that someone of your stature will do.

I have been searching every Harem garrison I can get my sordid left eye on for a suitable match.

You see, my rich and famous midget uncle, King Hassan of Morocco, has bestowed unto me the half of his kingdom for a woman who might grant unto him happiness like no other.

The sole dilemma, my faithful and patient wait-on-hand-and-foot-er, is that he is rather shy, and every woman so far has refused to bed him without first setting pupils on his, er, manhood.

But I'm sure an arrangement shall be reached with this very worthy and obliging Harem.

Fare thee well, my willing subjects.

Ahem - Chuck, "hot blonde" ? Tsk tsk, you know better then that.
No, I am far, far away from my dear ex-Harem, but I have left the title of "mistress" in the capable hands of the simply gorgeous Chuck who seems to be doing quite well. My ex-haremites are truly lucky ... sigh.
And yes, who are you??

Miss Larry, love, sex, and freedom would coincide more elegantly with my client. Something you must know is that His Veggie Tales fetish shall cause intrinsic delightment when He utters your name, as long as you do not become overly peeved with "LarryGirl" as to inflict irreversible mutilation and rotate His gender.

Miss Jamie, I fear you are no longer needed, although there is a vacancy in my household for a 25/8 virtual-roller-skater who must be compatible with permanent mop fittings.

I would consent to such a proposal if the good Harem might permit me several hours of solitude every morning to keep my mind clean with inspiration-invoking Keys Promises.

Without being reminded that, "The Word deserves first place in your mind, heart, and spirit. Claim the keys of Lustshed (pronounced 'Lusts shed') to rid yourself of temptatious thoughts while being entertained by a Harem when it's Word time," I just might fall for one of you.

Not that any of us would mind such an outcome. Who's first?

Madame Larry, I can assure you that all there is to me is cute squishiness.

Here is a picture from my last birthday when I was given a camel but first had to find it. http://still.dontexist.com/?whoami=arab

Plebeians who know my inner self think me fascinating, thrilling, and epically exciting, as my mind does not quite exceed my exterior in becomingness.

What you see now you see through a tantric glass. When I am truly looked upon, no Earthly veil may stand or sit between myself and the mortal apex in my presence.

Dear Lord, who is this guy? He sure likes to extol his virtues, but yes, he is entertaining. Although I do take offense to him telling Jamie that she "must be compatible with permanent mop fittings" in order to be needed. Jamie is so, so far above that & Mr. anonymous needs to be careful.

But my Dear, if you would read the 7th post, you will see how Larry made it clear that she was the Prima Diva of the Show now, and that attention could only reasonably be placed upon her, for the one called Jamie is no longer within your midst for the purpose I had originally designated.

Conversely, being the roller-skater of an Arabian household does have its perks.

I might see your figure in the moonlight as you sweep your legs back and forth, caressing the floor while I caress the thought of asking you to dance.

You might motion to me to make my move, for the game is set, the time is right, and the local camel robbers have just left town, bestowing safety upon us while we traipse throughout the kingdom.

I might take you out for a date, where we will sit beneath a palm tree. I shall offer you a tasty smackerel in the form of a date, and we will smack upon them and one another until our stock is depleted, and then I shall conveniently climb the tree above for a second helping.

I will make the promise of all the gifts in the world, or at least, all those in my Toy Room, if you would but take me to the Ball.

But Twinkie is right. I’m seldom found at home, leaving your Ex-Mistress’s romantic escapades limited to my faithful gardener, who has a set of permanent weed-wacker fittings. I dare say he shall sweep her off her feet.

"Larry made it clear that she was the Prima Diva of the Show now, and that attention could only reasonably be placed upon her"

I DID NOT SAY THAT!!!!! I said I was the closest to a blond in the Harem...Chuck is the prima Diva NOT me...

And for your romantic setting, was that what you did to the Harem's former mistress??

Or is that what you are going to do to our new mistress??

I said "Show", did I not? And is this womanly domain a "Show"?

If it is, I surely have not noticed.

I indicated that within the merry correspondence involved in winning the heart of one of your kind, you had come out as winner, and that the Show belonged to you.

The Harem's former mistress did not receive my glance or attention as I have described it. It is likely that her elder sibling, who is a foreign object to the Harem, once witnessed my dashingness, but one cannot be sure.

Perhaps the new mistress would act fondly towards such conduct involving dates and trees, but I have equipped myself with much higher intents for the one I choose as my Better Half, and I do believe they shall prove to be adequate.

It is left to be settled if there does exist a match picked from the stars and blessed by the Mother Camel Herself which I am to play a part in, or if this Grail I seek shall end in hopelessness after my conquest has taken a hike.

At least I'll score along the way.

I seem to have that tendency lately.

Perhaps we should arrange a room, although it would have to be free of door, windows, chimneys, and any other possible escape routes, in case you became so intoxicatedly dazed that you're tempted to leave.

But for Allah's sake, do not let me stop you from being your normal Haremite self.

If it pleases you, I would be most flattered to hear you speak on your line of ancestry. Perhaps you could start from your great-grandfather's best-friend's mother's cousin who dated your great-great-uncle's wife while their niece was sleeping beneath a nearby palm tree. I hear they woke her up while fetching a second round of dates, but that only adds to the adventure.

Please, tell all. I must know everything about you. I shall ask your G-spot, I mean, G-string size later.

Here is our room.

Let me hear your side.

http://still.dontexist.com/?whoami=idontknow

Anything at all.

I am not Sparti. I haven't the faintest clue as to what or who that could be.

Speak of yourself. I shall follow.

Don't be.

We have each other, which means that we know exactly where we are.

But, I'm not sure where that is.

It is a simple messaging device my local Camel technician arranged. You speak, and I hear. No doors, no windows, no chimneys. Ideal climate for mating.

I haven't an avenue to contact you directly.

Have you ever eyed the shores of Indonesia?

Very well. I shall retire.

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Get a room!

;)

Ok STOP!!! there are 45 unnecessary comments on this post!!! none of them pertain to the original post, open a new one!!! but it's snazzy to have 45...well now 46 comments

I love you too Larry!