Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243
It is an average end of the work day. I close up my laptop, grab my things that I don’t intend to leave at the office, and head out the door. On the way out, I double-check the lock and head down the street. It’s only a few blocks to home, and it has been unreasonably mild outside for a mid-December week, so I decide to walk home.
On the way, I get a need for some sausages for dinner and make a decision to swing by the butchers, which is just a couple blocks out of the way. As I go to enter, my nose is buried in my phone, the door doesn’t open, and I slam my forehead into the glass. Looking up as I curse, I see the butcher trying to close up shop, shouting something and waving his arms around.
Butchers Meat
When he opens the door, I see his familiar frame. There’s something about the tall “strongest man” build that I just love. Not the gym rats that cut their body fat and pump their pecs full of water. I mean the REAL strong men. Barrel chest, and a little bit of belly to match, but you can tell that under that is the type of man that can throw a telephone pole. I mean, this guy regularly throws around a half-cow in the back, right?
Just thinking about it has got me all hot and bothered. I’m biting my lip and staring at his shoulders, thinking about him throwing me around the back room and slamming me into a cold, stainless steel table. GOD, it sounds incredible. Just as I’m starting to get overwhelmingly horny and my hands start roaming, I finally hear him shouting, “HELLO! Space cadet?! Look, I’m closed, but if you need something, I’ll write an I.O.U. since you’re in here regularly. What kinda meat you want? Make it quick!”
Oh, I’ll tell him what kind of meat I want. Do you think he’s ready to throw me around the back of the butcher shop?
Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243