| How to train A wild puppy dog name Manley: If all men are dogs, who is the best Contributor(s): Kelly, E. Lloyd (Author) |
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ISBN: 1981025979 ISBN-13: 9781981025978 Publisher: Independently Published OUR PRICE: $11.39 Product Type: Paperback - Other Formats Published: May 2018 * Not available - Not in print at this time * |
| Additional Information |
| BISAC Categories: - Fiction | Family Life - General |
| Physical Information: 0.41" H x 6" W x 9" (0.59 lbs) 178 pages |
| Themes: - Topical - Family |
| Descriptions, Reviews, Etc. |
| Publisher Description: Looking for a tragic romance storybook to read? then how to train a wild puppy dog name Manley is the book for you, a thrilling love story about a dog name Manley, or is it? How to train a wild puppy dog name Manley is packed full of metaphoric terms, anecdotes, ambiguity, and innuendoes. All for your reading pleasures. #Hardcoresex talk of a teenage boy on the many encounters which he has with women while on his journey into manhood. Stories of how his life was shaped, and the folks whose hands have helped in shaping him. Here is an excerpt: Ms. Brodbendt came back into the living room wearing what looked like Pyjamas to me. A rather warm and cozy looking pink panther jumpsuit sleep ware, with a long zipper in the front, which ran all the way down from under the throat to just about the groin area. And a fluffy puppy dog-headed, black-nosed, red-tongued bed slippers on her feet. The big round friendly looking, black and white insert which served as the eyes of the puppy-shoe, seemed to be watching me from wherever in the room they were at any given point in time. "I spoke to your mother again this afternoon," she'd said, as she re-enters the living room, she walked past me and headed towards the kitchen, she reached inside the cupboard for a wine glass, and then another. Would you like to try something a little different? Something a bit more mature than ice tea? "I, I don't know if I should, I've never had anything stronger than that before, I mean, the iced tea, well, I mean, I had a beer or two before, what are you offering?" She didn't bother to answer, she just poured the liquor in both glasses, picked them up and came back towards the couch where I was sitting, she handed me one of the glasses, then went and sat down at the other end of the couch. Don't gulp it down she said, take your time, sip it and savor the flavor. I was watching her closely though indirectly, she stirred the drink around with one finger, rolling the ice cubes in circles in the glass, then shake it in a circular motion, the ice in the liquor makes a clinking, rattling sound in the glass. I shook my glass in somewhat of a similar manner, or as close to it as I could get. I didn't stick my finger in though, I lifted the glass to my lips and took a tiny sip, held it in my mouth for a little while and then slowly swished it around in my mouth and all over my tongue. After affirming that it was not a bigger bite than I could chew, I swallowed. Not bad I thought, I took another sip, holding it in longer, long enough to really taste the flavor this time. I noticed the hint of sweet and a slight tingly feeling on my tongue, I swallowed. I felt the warmth within. "As I was saying, she continued. I spoke to your mother earlier this afternoon," she said that she has noticed the changes in you and is quite happy with the improvements. She seems to think that I have something to do with it and wanted you to spend more time with me. She reached up for the zipper head and pulled it down a couple of inches, then shuffle her body into a more comfortable position, lifted up her legs onto the couch and placed them one over the other between us, the bottom of the puppy dog shoes now right in front of my face every time I look around. Do you like the drink? She asked. Its, its okay, I mumbled and took another sip. I wanted to quit and split there and then, but I had was to protect my rep. What rep? ask Bubbles. I rebuked him, from within. The big black fluffy meowing pussy cat came hobbling over and hopped up onto her knees, her butter-like, buttonhole eyes watching me, with suspicion, while she, Ms. Brodbendt, gently stroke its head, smoothing out the furry fluff. I would sure like to be stroking her pussy cat too, but. I ain't that lucky it would seem. |