Wrath of the Vagina

The Scarlet Numbers 6.23.12

Hello world.  Please take a moment to comment below and tell me the things you would like to do with me in this dress.  Answer the question by listing these things:

  • What kind of car would you pick me up in?
  • What movie would we go see?
  • Would you buy me popcorn?
  • What restaurant would you take me to and what would we eat?
  • Would you pay for dinner?
  • What would we do afterward?

Try to be interesting.  I’m curious to see some creative answers!

Oh, I’m single by the way just so you know. You MUST have a PS3 if you’d like to date me.  Also you MUST have clean fingernails and be okay with me watching Futurama 6 1/2 hours a day.  Also no blacks.  I’m not racist or anything, I just don’t like to get robbed.  Just kidding.  Oh and you must have a college degree, preferrably a doctorate but a masters degree is okay too.  Comments must be left on this blog and not on Google plus. Oh and you must wear deoderant at least 3/7 days a week. Clothing optional. Well…depending on if  you work out or not.


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This entry was posted in Bedtime Stories!, New Blogs, Sex, VAGINA, Vagina Photography. Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to Wrath of the Vagina

  1. extremelyavg says:

    I was nervous, because I had seen the dress she would be wearing, and it was the sort that if you looked at her too long, in it, you might burn out a retina.

    It had been a good year, the book was climbing up the charts, the royalties were flowing like a river of things that can be exchanged for goods and services. I had exchanged some for an Aston Martin DB9, in midnight black. I hoped she would be impressed, but my gut told those long legs had stepped out of a Ferrari or two, and maybe a Bugatti Veyron.

    The date had the possibility of crossing into cliche almost immediately, but with the short notice, (I’d asked, but not expected her to say, ‘Sure, how about tonight’) I couldn’t work any miracles. I had in my suit pocket two tickets to “Aisha”, a Bollywood rendition of “Pride and Prejudice”. This had been a blunder, as I later found out she preferred horror movies.

    Still, I had bought the popcorn and demonstrated an Olympic level of skill at tossing the kernels up and catching them in my mouth, before the previews.

    We caught a later dinner at Portobello Gold, in Knotting Hill, London. In truth, I had never been there before, as I’d only been in the U.K. for a couple of weeks, but I did managed to sneak in and bribe one of the waiters to make it look like we were old friends. I think she knew I was bluffing.

    The conversation was easy as old friends, though I’d known her for only a scant few months. We ate, slowly, and during desert I noticed she was playing with her hair. Normally, I don’t pick up on such signs, but that combined with her lilting laugh, seemed to scream “You’re doing well.”

    It was after Midnight when we found ourselves walking along the Thames, holding hands. I don’t even remember who took whom’s hand, or when it started, but all of a sudden, there we were. The moon cast a knowing eye off the water and the waves sent me a wink.

    I spun her around and planted a kiss that surprised us both. Somewhere there was a violin playing, or maybe it was just in my head, but when the sun came up, my life had changed. I had no idea who she worked for, and it proved to be my undoing, but that dress, those curves, and that night, got me through the hardest six months of my life.

    Now, with maybe an hour before the world comes crashing down on me, I sit here, holding the London Times with the number I’m to call, and all I can think about is her.

  2. hofzy says:

    i think i ll do U ….lovely scare…:P
    U R adorable …i like ur butt…<3

  3. Gary Stein says:

    I’d pick you up in a Chevy 15 passenger van.
    We wouldn’t see a movie
    Olive Garden
    We’d play cribbage at my house with my wife and then we’d brush the kids teeth and put them in bed

  4. John Zappella says:

    I would pick u up in Big Red ( jacked up 84 gmc 4×4 ). I would help u in of course.
    The choice of movie would be up to you ,just nothing romantic I don’t want to puke before dinner.
    Yes hot buttered popcorn .
    We would go to a nice Italian restaurant that has live music playing in the back ground.
    We can eat chicken or veal parmigiana, a nice starter salad and then maybe share gelato for dessert.
    What kind of man wouldn’t pay for dinner.
    Then we would drive to the highest mountain and over look the cities twinkling lights and the sun set over the ocean, then what happens happens. Or we go to Vegas and party the night away.

  5. sansself says:

    So… as I sit here on the day after, I ponder how my world got turned on its goddamn head so quickly. I don’t know what happened or how, but this is what I remember.

    I showed up at 7:30PM on the nose. My car, a shitty old Volvo station wagon that had seen better days ten years before now (and it’s been five since then), was on the fritz in some weird ways but still managed to drive so long as you never had to shift manually. Thank god for automatics. She got in and kind of sneered at the car. It’s a good thing I dress better than the car looks. Women love it when I get the suit out.

    I had the date planned out long in advance. We were going to an outdoor screening of the classic “Amadeus” in the park next to a local art gallery. I’m a classical kind of a person but I’m not sure if this girl was really into it. She’s kind of a shut-in despite being both interesting and attractive. She mentioned agoraphobia as she pounded down more medication. I think it was actually xanax but I wasn’t about to question it. She was calm and collected during the movie but somewhat disinterested in the story. There was no popcorn or food of any kind served. The wine and beer selections were pretty tasty though; we shared a few glasses of “the expensive red wine” and it was worth what I spent.

    We proceeded, slightly tipsy, to the restaurant next door, a slightly fancy steak house, and sat down at a table. The server recommended the 16oz sirloin for me and the much more modest 8oz rib eye for her. I knew she would eat it and, thankfully, I was not let down. We made idle chatter about her blog and how she wanted to post pictures of her cute ass online. I told her that she should definitely let me take the next picture for her site and she seemed intrigued. It couldn’t have been for the originality of the line, that’s for sure, but it must have worked. I knew the staff and had already told them that I’d “do you guys a solid favor” if they’d not hound me about the bill. The owner said “You never ask me for a favor so this one is free, my friend!” It’s good to know people around town, I’ll tell you what. Years of service in the hospitality industry taught me that one.

    After dinner, I said to the fine young lady – only slightly off kilter when talking about her profound distaste of Pinterest – that we should go take in the scenery of the region. I knew the best spot. The car had an unexpectedly great sound system for being such a lemon in every other way so when I got to the top of the hill overlooking the elegant designer hotel of one of the area’s casinos and started playing Track #1 of Marilyn Manson’s new career high Born Villain album, the exuberance she went into that someone had paid enough attention to have The Right Album in the CD player was what sealed the deal for her.

    Well, sealed a deal anyway. I did schedule a trip to come see her and take pictures of her butt for her blog. Then I brought her back to the casino she’d come from where they’d put her up when she came to town to talk about how successful her blog was and how to do it again (TL;DR: “It’s my vagina pictures!”) and bid her a fond farewell. Now I’m writing blogs about it in a fictionalized entry because no one who reads it will ever know if I’m shitting them or not.

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