If You Wanna Crown His Ass Then Crown His Ass

So I'm sitting at my desk at the office right now and outside the window is a fine looking young lady tanning on the bow of her boat, face down with a tight little bikini riding up her ass. Everything looks good from here but we all know that good from far usually ends up being far from good and I am about a Bonds McCovey Cove cock shot away. Irregardless,

If I was Bob, I'd just drop my nuts down over the window sill and everything would take care of itself. In fact, I would probably be able to get pretty close to nailing two of the four women in the boat at the same time before having to stop in the street to pee real quick and then having them all disappear. (For those who don't know, this is a reference to a similar occurence at Fiorettis last month upon which I will ellaborate shortly)

Anyway, I have nothing close to an excuse as to why I would be strolling all the way down the end of the dock in order to approach, I have no clue what I'd say anyway, and I have no way of telling if any of them are even worth approaching in the first place. Thoughts???

As to my NJ reference, I'd just like to post some props to Da Govna as well as to nominate him to the Wing Man Hall of Fame- which we should now create on this site.

Long story short, I have a threesome wrapped up better than the Mets had the NL East and it disappears as I am walking with them to their car "so they can get a change of clothes," which is what they said we should all go do after an extended period of kissing and grabbing each other in the bar. I stop to urinate just outside in some shrubs because I had been holding it for like an hour so I wouldn't lose track of them and it ended up costing me because I had to unleash this monstrous piss out of the rock hard wang that I had going, and I hadn't clearly declared to them that this was what I was about to do. (I was in a trailing position, thought it would be quick and they wouldn't really wonder that far) Needless to say I was more upset than Strancock and Cooler combined on the day the Mets shit all over themselves when these sluzies escaped into the night.

Afterwards, through a five minute convo, I manage to put myself in position to take down a 6ish with a 8 or so face and a 4.5 or so bod that Bob had opened in the bar. I end up traveling in this broads car for 45 minutes for a drive that should have been ten after the bar closes to find Cheddars. It was straight cuz I had a sweet reach around grope going on her as she was driving with me in the backseat and her friend in the front but it sucked because by the time we got there everyone had pretty much closed up shop for the night and settled into their sleeping spots. We walk in and her friend is visibly questioning what the hell she is doing at this strange little hut. Pian is just about asleep on the couch.

I yell for the Law to get up and entertain this 5 immediately so I can take the other one to my car and bust all over her. Not only does he abide, but it forces him into a worthless two hour long convo that leads to an even more worthless half tug session on the porch deep into the dawn hours. Before he knows what hit him I am happily asleep on his couch with this chick draped over me like a blanket, and he is relegated to a half chair to share with his girl for a bed and no blanket. When I finally wake my ass up in the morning, he doesn't even mutter the slightest complaint and in fact compliments my score. Meanwhile, I have to fight my boys from school who live in Norwalk to even go out with me on a weekend nght to hit on girls. Talk about a fucking wingman. I'd like to crown his ass for such a play.