Steve: Creamy beige, espresso hues and luxurious royal blue ensure that the sex you are about to enjoy will be nothing less than opulent. As does the monkey toy.
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For the love of god, where are you finding these delicious men? The blue is a nice match to his eyes.
And fuck the monkey, he can watch!
Tex, come out come out wherever you are!!
Douglas always thought that Martha Stewart had been rude to him on the phone because he was a mere underling, the coffee-fetching, back-scratching, foot-licking broker’s assistant. But the truth, he learned, was far more hurtful. Martha loathed him because she could hear the bad taste in his voice. She knew that he bought bed linens in small corner shops in Queens, lacking the scratch and the ambition to even move up to her bargain line in K-Mart. Even his childhood monkey seemed to sneer at him as he slid into bed (and nearly off it) in those days. But Douglas soldiered on, rejecting the sirens’ song of thread counts and sateen finishes, and today stands up–or at least squats–and says, ‘I am what I am!’
By a show of erections, who else thinks this guy bears a slight resemblance to Derek Jeter???
And what’s up with the monkey? Is he dusty or covered in age-old spooge?
Monkey? What monkey?
Ha! I know we’re suppose to focus on the interiors, but seeing as there’s not much there to focus on (all three factors have been well covered), I’m going to go for the meat: the stage center meat who put the delicate but capital swirly Q in Drama Queen. Yes, yes, I would do him–I would spend a stretched-weekend doing him over and over–but first I would bind those wrists. You just know he breaks into spontaneous jazz hands.
Great look, love the ‘monkey’ in the middle!
Oh yes, I’d do him, but first I’d have to put the monkey under the bed and throw those blue satin sheets away. Although it might be fun (for a while, anyway) to slide around trying to grab each other in that slippery polyester nightmare.
I look into his eyes:
“I am coming for you. There is nothing you can do to prevent the ravishing that is about to consume you. I want you, and only you.”
I look into the monkey’s eyes:
“Hiya! I’m a monkey!”
I look into his eyes:
“These blue satin sheets are like the ocean: relentless, unstoppable, pounding, as I will unstoppably pound you relentlessly. You and I will create pounding waves of unstoppable, relentless passion together.”
I look into the monkey’s eyes:
“Fuck him! I’m a monkey!”
I look into his eyes:
“Do your best to ignore the monkey.”
I look into the monkey’s eyes:
“Just try to ignore me. I’m a monkey!”
I put on a movie and jerk off instead. Less monkeys that way.
The blue satin sheets scream luxury, but one has to be careful not to get any body parts wrongly caught in the seat belts which keep you from sliding out of the bed.
So the sheets are too slick to actually fuck on….I’d through this handsome boy to the floor anyway….Oh fuck yeah!
Tex, glad your back with your back self.
I meant bad self. Mr. Sateen excited me so that I can’t type.
yes
Monkey see, monkey do…….
Who cares about the stuffed monkey and the hideous satin comforter–this boy is hot and I would pound him.
Of course, afterwards we would head to Bed Bath & Beyond.
not me. all that satin and all that hot man. could be a hot slippery slidey time.
we could finally get to do the position that’s only theoretically possible: On top AND underneath, at the SAME TIME.
Ya know the last two pics posted here have proved one thing.
That the best accessory to a very poorly decorated home is a hot man.
Now I am just saying that there is much one can forgive when you put a nice hottie with a fair sized stiffy in the middle of the room.
Gone are the drab walls…the curtains which may you want to vomit…or in our last example the cumstained monkey on the blue satin sheets.
I cannot see any of that….nope just that important accessory …. right smack dab in da middle.
Cheers
Just as Venus rises on the half shell, so Eros emerges from the foaming seas. Eros and Monkeybone?!
I always find Plushies - even hot ones - a little off-putting. Sue Me.
well…looks like dude just caught someone filming him spankin his monkey, and so he put it down to get to the guy with the camera…
hot!
The bumps under the lustrous blue covers are the previous visitors, whose remains have yet to be sliced and diced, and fed down the local waste pipes. Choice cuts are used to feed-up our somewhat lean host.
Sparks fly when there’s friction of the man made fabrics, which is entrancing on a moonlit, with a surreal blue and spark lit interior. Our host’s smile comes into its own then, beating the monkey’s twee smirk. Guests taking their own cotton linens are soon stripped of their adornments, and enjoy things in the way that only our host can make them.
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