Fox in the Chickhouse
by Jonathan Quince
Sunday, April 11, 2004 18:58:19
At first sight, it seems a dream come true. I can practically catch the scent of fresh young pussy in the air.
I am currently located in a university dormitory, surrounded by the living quarters of hot college girls. Don't ask me how I got here. As I sit here scribbling this Log entry into my trusty old-fashioned word-recording device for later transcription, I am shifting my legs against each other, letting warm waves of electric heat run through my cock as I press it between my thighs and consider the endless possibilities before me.
Right now, I am considering the feasibility of walking around and propositioning random females for oral sex. Giving oral sex, that is; I am in the mood for the taste of pussy. I yearn for the hot juices of one girl after another to fill my mouth. I crave the opportunity to inhale the scents of different vaginas, each its own unique stamp of sexual individuality.
I would charge money for it, too. Perhaps I should make up a sandwich board with which to parade around, offering oral sex to any female for a quarter. 25¢ may seem a rather understated valuation for such top-quality acts of cunnilingus as I would perform; but I wish to keep my services affordable for college students living on a shoestring budget. And besides, think of the bragging rights I would gain! Not only could I then say that I had worked as a prostitute; I could boast of having peddled my services as a cheap prostitute. I would enjoy that.
Unfortunately, this is all just a fantasy. I am here on business, and serious business at that; alas, finding fresh flesh for the ravishing is somewhat low on my list of priorities at the moment. But really, I cannot help but imagine the potential here. For a pervert like me to be in the heart of a building stocked with delicious females — females mostly between the ages of 18 and 22, at that — the term “fox in the henhouse” just doesn't even begin to describe the situation.