Closest to the bone

A boy and a girl meet in a bar. The boy is pretty much aroused by some of the studmuffin’s female features and decides to make a pass.

Knob (much too enthusiastic): Hi
Clit (careless): Hello
Knob (still much too enthusiastic): Can I buy you a drink?
Clit (still careless): Sure, whatever.
Knob (begins to hesitate now but receives no dickcontroll): OK, what’s your poison?
Clit (kinda rehearsed): I’ll have a Safari orange juice but go easy on the orange juice.
Knob (thinking “That sounded kinda rehearsed.”): Uh….. OK.

The boy orders a Safari orange juice but go easy on the orange juice for the girl and a diet coke for himself (the bartender gives him the “you’re such a fag”-look). After all, he’s the one who has to get it up later.

Knob (blinking his eye): Cheers, goodlookin’.
Clit (after raising her glass just a bit): ……………. glook, glook, glook
Knob (très cocky): So uh…… wanna fuck?
Clit (careless as ever): Sure, whatever.

– Excerpt from anonymous contribution published in the Bedtime Stories-section of the obscure Norwegian erotic magazine Swøllen

Closest to the bone