Melon 01
Well, hello there my people, I’m Melon (Mel) and I’m just going to plow right through things right here in my first sentence and state right now that I’m just different enough to be comfortable wearing female clothing and body makeup. If I’m to be thought of as a queer for that, then sobeit. I’m happy and I go out of my way to not bother people, so at least try to include that in the tattoo if there is room for it on my forehead then. I mean, I’m a bangs kind of CD, so use a small font as you etch my title across my very smooth forehead. And watch that you don’t get called out to for massaging my smooth skin as your ink gun goes brr, brr, brr.
Now, I might engage with you if you wish to have a Sharpie Selfie night party with me and you might be surprised what words I allow you to write on my body, but please, leave the tattoo gun behind and just enjoy the evening. I mean, and be fair to me for how hard I’ve worked to have such a nice Trans body when you post about your conquest for the evening, but be fair to the both of us by not boasting about any sexual conquest. At least until something changes. I mean, I don’t know, maybe someday, but I don’t foresee that any time soon.
I mean, yeah, you can post that you did what one of the phrases across my belly said to do, but you had better be Derrick and you had better get the date right and you had better say that it was a one-time thing, so. I mean, fine, it was a two-time thing, but Derrick was quite insistent that he needed to cover the front and then the back the next weekend. I mean, he was also quite insistent that he would never dump me, which was clearly a lie, so if you’re reading this Derrick, I mean, you left your sunglasses behind, so call me.
Anyways, back to me, I’m on the smaller side, I’m definitely on the softer side and the rumors about me having a small nose job are absolutely true. But it really helped to highlight the other features of my face and I don’t have a nose job surgery horror story to tell, so it was worth it.
Now the rumors that I’m looking into having two rib bones removed to further enhance my waistline are absolutely false. I mean, I glanced at the idea, but as it turns out, that’s a pretty serious step, so as of today, the waistline that I have is just fine.
I’m also pretty low key about things. I don’t need to present myself in front of a bunch of other people and with the way life works out, there are just enough people who know about me in person anyways. But I do think of myself as thoughtful and helpful when it comes to those who know me and tolerated me, so I try to be there for them when that need comes around.
I don’t entertain in groups often and by that, I mean ever, but I have a couple of folks who will stop by on their own or who will accept an invitation directly from me and yes, either way, there isn’t a lot of broadcasting about who, what or why is going on from either side and I’m alright with that.
However, things change or things get changed and there was a recent time and by that, I mean just a couple of weekends ago when what is known as Rivalry Saturday rolled around because apparently, Rivalry Saturday is a thing. I mean, um, it’s the 119th meeting between two given teams or something and it’s a thing.
Which was when I decided to be thoughtful and helpful and offer my oldest friend, Ozzy, I quiet and relaxing day of college football Rivalry Saturday, which is apparently a thing.
But here’s the thing. My friend Ozzy is how all this started for sure and he should be the center piece of my story, but he’s not. I mean, due to the major knee surgery that he underwent recently, the quiet and peaceful day of football was all about him, in private, of course, but somehow, Ozzy ended up being a supporting character rather than the lead character.
Also, just as a FYI, let me just say that when your friend who just went through major knee surgery says “hey, Melon, do you want to see my super gross and zig zagged Frankenstein scar?”, just decline and respond that the photo that his step sister Camilla posted online was good enough. I mean, I’m sure it will smooth itself out as more time passes, but for now, it’s really super gross and zig zagged and like three different colors, so just trust that your friend’s step sister protected your eyes and memory with filtering and let it go.
Anyways, having a house guest for a number of hours defne escort wasn’t much of a concern for me and neither was game food for the day, but I did need a couple of other things. For one, it occurred to me that if Rivalry Saturday is such of a thing, then Ozzy might need or would appreciate someone else who felt the same way as he did so that those fist bumps and high fives and what have you could enhance the game day experience and I’ll get into my solution for that later.
For the other thing that I needed was a friend to help me re-arrange the living room furniture. I had the perfect arm chair with that leg lift feature that Ozzy could just sink into and be comfortable, but my own household rule clearly stated that I would kill the person who scratched my hardwood floors and I didn’t want my own name to be at the top of the kill list, so I called my other friend, Bobby, to help me move things around so that Ozzy would have a good viewing angle of the flat screen and be that much closer to the bathroom because as I understand it, Rivalry Saturday is a thing and football things require beer, so.
Now, here’s the thing about Bobby. He’s not my oldest friend, but he is actually one of my favorite friends because of his brain. I mean, he’s smart for sure, but the best thing about Bobby’s brain is that it stops him short of officially fagging on me. I mean, it’s weird for sure, but I get a human contact and he gets a little human contact and then it’s over. I mean, it’s cool, right? There’s always a little flirting and a few touches and I’m still fully intact and he hasn’t gone gay, so it’s cool, right?
Well, back to how smart Bobby really is, right? Oh, oh, oh and how smart he was to buy a set of some cheap ass plastic disc’s called furniture movers or gliders or whatever that actually worked too! (And yeah, I suppose it wasn’t all that smart of me to wear my Friday afternoon Denim shorts while we were alone in my house, but it was Friday afternoon, so.)
“Listen, Melon, I don’t really get this furniture re-arrangement unless you’re planning on having knee surgery anytime soon. I mean, putting the arm chair here provides a great TV viewing angle without blocking the walkway if the leg lift feature is up and it’s as close to your bathroom as it could get in case you were using crutches or something to hobble around on, but it’s your house, so I guess I’m saying that you can re-arrange things anyway you want too then. I’m also saying that you should quit being such a little bitch about things and invite myself and maybe a few others over as well, especially if you’re going to make your famous spicey chicken meatballs and all, so?”
“Oh, Bobby, I mean, what? TV viewing angles? Hobbling on crutches? A clean change of boxers in the bathroom just in case? What are you talking about, Bobby?”
Seriously? A man such as Bobby can strike that arm folded across the chest pose with that eye glare? I mean, that’s totally a girl thing, which like Rivalry Saturday, is a thing, so.
“Fine, but Bobby, you know I’m not built to host a houseful of beer drinking and grunting football fans, so.”
Oh, by the way folks, I’m basically built to sit on your knee for hours without being a discomfort to you, so.
“Just me then, I mean, just me and a plus one, but I promise to not spread the word around that you’re hosting a Rivalry Saturday game watch mixer, which is a thing, you know. I mean, I’ll keep my mouth shut tight and my promise is supported by my desire to not miss out on your face melting spicey chicken meatballs, so?”
Well, one variation of my spicey chicken meatballs is merely face distorting, not face melting, although the recipe that my sister gave me a while ago makes it very easy to control the level of spice, so.
Also, LMAO, Bobby just said that he would keep his mouth shut and not spread the word, LMAO.
“Bobby, give me this one for tomorrow as a more private event and I promise I will have a batch of cider block dissolving spicey chicken meatballs prepared for you by 10pm tonight and you can swing by and pick them up, so?”
I mean, I still needed to get up to the grocery store and all, but if I could get Bobby out of my house quickly, then I could pull that off and kill two birds with one stone. Or with one spicey chicken meatball that scientists are trying to duplicate as a reversing defense system against hot lava demetevler escort flows, so.
“Yeah, but I mean, Melon, I mean, 10pm sounds like jammies time and all, so.”
“Oh, I mean, I suppose 10pm would be about jammies time for me and I mean, I wouldn’t go slinging a bunch of radioactive white chicken meatball mix around without a ponytail too, so.”
“Yeah, but I mean Melon, we should be alone so that nobody thinks that I’m fagging and stuff, so.”
“[Mwah] Just you, me and the latest solid rocket fuel in meatball form, Bobby, so???”
Well, guys like football and guys like rockets, so I think I won by trading a batch of nuclear waste comfort food the night before Rivalry Saturday for a quieter Saturday afternoon. It was also a nice win for me because of that brain issue that I mentioned earlier. I mean, I wouldn’t, but I swear, I could shower with Bobby and still come out smelling like a rose and not just because I use rose scented body wash either.
Not that I would ever test that theory though, but I have him pegged for a CD’s best bet. But I did lip smack him and he stood his ground, so a little more care on my part might be required in the future. The future like after I ran up to the grocery store for my shredded chicken meat and all of the other ingredients that were required to make my now famous spicey chicken meatballs.
Which brings me around to my early Friday evening Denim capri pants and my plan to lure in at least two guys for Ozzy to cheer and shout with during the Rivalry Saturday games, which is also a thing, so enter stage right, Amira, who works at the grocery store.
“There you go, Melon, three packages of shredded chicken for your famous spicey chicken meatballs.”
“Well Amira, I only ordered two packages of shredded chicken, so.”
“Oh, well, there is one package for chicken meatballs that someone like myself can handle, one package for your normal contoured face formula and one package for melting fence post holes in your backyard or for you know, for someone like Bobby, so.”
“Well, I mean, he’s only stopping by later to pick up a batch anyways. I mean, it’s more of a drive-by than anything else, so.”
“Oh, I mean, are those condoms in your shopping cart then, Melon?”
“I mean, Amira, I got confused in the aisle and I thought they were latex cooking gloves. I mean, both boxes have the “latex” written across the front of the package anyways, so. I mean, shouldn’t we be talking about who you guys are bringing into my quiet home as cheer leader dates anyways, Amira?”
“Tucker and Luke. Any issues with them, Melon?”
“Oh, from Ozzy’s sports team, um, no, they’ll be fine, so.”
“Well, I guess beer pong is technically a sport. Anyways, Shelia and I are not bitching out on wearing our most ridiculously short Denim shorts, so are you, Melon?”
“Oh, um, I mean, out of respect for Ozzy and all, I mean, not too ridiculously short and all, but you girls do whatever you want to, so.”
“OMG, Melon, stop being so damn nervous about things. It’s just a simple mixer of eight and it’s my understanding that it’s a thing for Rivalry Saturday, so.”
Oops, oops, headcount time! Ozzy, Amira, Shelia, plus two dates and me, right? Six, my stress level is six, so????? I mean, six, right? It’s a thing.
“Amira, I mean, eight?”
“Well, did you think that Ozzy’s step sister Camilla was just going to dump him off and blaze without taking the opportunity to inspect and check out every nook and cranny of your house then?”
Huh, right? I mean, I took that as code to clean up a bit, right? Not that is anything to hide in my nooks and in my cranny’s. Also, just what is a nook and a cranny and is there proof that I have both in my house? I mean, drop me a comment on my Chang homepage about those two things and don’t get mad if it takes me a while to thank you back. I’m slinging depleted uranium over here for Bobby and his taste buds which can’t be taste buds.
Also, LOL, Bobby’s level of spicey chicken meatballs needed a glass container as they melted through the plastic container.
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, umph, umph, hump, hump, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump]
“Oh, oh geez, ooh, Bobby, I can’t believe you charmed me into straddling your lap like this, oh.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, hoof, umph, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump]
“I demirözü escort mean, Bobby, I’m not exactly afraid.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, hump, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump, ugh]
“I mean, hold me tighter to you then, Bobby.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, umph, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump, ugh, ooh]
“Don’t Melon, don’t, leave your undies in place.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, hoof, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump, ugh, umph]
“Alright, Bobby, I mean, this is quite far for us and I thought you might want a valid reason for putting the condom on, that’s all.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, ag, ah, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump, ugh]
“Hoof, sorry, Melon, ha, ha, that’s too gay for me, so, hm, hm, umm, umm, ugh.”
[Umph, umph, umph, ugh, ugh, ag, ah, umph, umph, hoof, hoof, hoof, umph, hump, hump, ugh]
“Alright, Bobby, it just felt like you actually wanted a Charmed Boyfriend this time, but listen, you’ll need to flush your condom when you finish and not leave it in a nook or a cranny, so.”
I mean, I was sure that the switch in Bobby’s head would turn on at any time, but he kept going at it. And nope, I wasn’t exactly sure what he was going at, but his cock was out and his cock had a condom on it and he charmed me over his lap and even though my jammies bottoms were long gone, well, read the above again and I was pretty clam about things, right? I mean, it felt like some level of sex to me, but if that’s as much as sex is, then I haven’t missed a thing.
Especially when he finished. I mean, wow, if you think my high level spicey chicken meatballs will screw up your face, wow, you should have seen Bobby’s face once he realized how far things went between us! LOL, like he didn’t realize that as he was, ah, um, what, super dry humping me????? Like just about everywhere he could as I straddled his lap except for where most fags would, um, work it or rub it or poke it and OMG, I felt pretty much like a cheap slut in a just a PJ top as soon as he ran out of the door!
LOL, but not as much of a bonehead as him as soon as he figured out that he put himself back together without removing the squishy condom first, LOL! But at least he didn’t leave it behind in one of mu nooks or even my cranny’s, so.
However, something good came out of it. Cooking in a just a long PJ top would soon become my new thing!
Also, what the hell do you mean Rivalry Saturday football games start at Noon?!?!?!?! Who in the hell is ready to deal with all that at Noon after being treated like barely a Charmed Boyfriend the night before?
[Beep, beep, beep]
Well, I guess it’s a thing for everyone else to be ready when the first game is about to start. Also, who in the hell said that Camilla could look so good before Noon anyways?
Oh, also, huh, temporary cripples on crutches and seven front steps don’t mix very well.
“Come on, Melon, get your shoulder into it, grab his beltline, get all up under his arm pit and grunt a little! I mean, I don’t think that you’re a total stranger to my step bro’s beltline and all, so, grab it!”
[Grunt, grab, heave, wobble, lift, jiggle beltline, side step, weird step, dip fingers below beltline]
“Whew, well, I mean, Camilla, um.”
“Oh, shut it, Melon, I’m not stupid. Nor am I shy, so if someone gets a “hello” lip smack while my back is turned to the two of you while I’m opening your front door wide, then sobeit. I’ll be in the kitchen, so.”
[Smooch, smack]
Well, I already said that I was a cheap slut now, so.
[Hmm, tongue flick]
[Hmmm, mwah, ummah, um, unzip shorts]
“[Zip shorts back up] Alright, Ozzy, let’s wobble your butt into the easy chair that I have all set up for you and get this Rivalry Saturday started then.”
“[Unzips shorts] I’m going to need help using the bathroom today, Melon.”
“[Zips shorts back up] Well, that’s a forward pass if I ever heard one, Ozzy, but let’s start with a seat, a beer and a few spicey chicken meatballs then.”
[Unzip, mwah, mwah, ummah, ummah, zip back up]
“I mean, Ozzy, with your step sister Camilla here and all, so.”
[Wobble, walk, mwah, unzip, unbutton, ah, hobble towards the bedroom???]
“(OK, OK, OK Ozzy, um, just plop it down in the chair and we’ll talk at halftime or something, but, um, I mean, is that really for me?)”
Oh, it was a thing and it was clear that it was a thing for me, but with his step sister in the house and her date and the others on the way, well, I mean, well, I don’t what I mean because I had no idea what was going to happen on this year’s Rivalry Saturday, yet.
End Melon 01
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