Mission impossible - The view to a Kill...

hi all!!!

Recently, A and I went out again..... of cos, no need to say, we held hands this time. I feel like a 15 yr old on her first date, can? The feeling is fabulous and as long as u dun look at my face, u’d probably think I’m that age, the way I was behaving.

It was quite disgusting, but I cannot help. Every single little thing about him makes me happy. See him smile make me happy. See his hand clasp mine, happy.....see him wear polo-tee again, happy.......See him eat McDonald’s Big and Tasty.....happier........






Huge mouthfuls with slow chewing, utterly enjoying every bite.....







If he makes love the way he eats, I kena strike lottery........Oooooo......






I admit that there were other things to be happy abt. As I said the last time, A is my PE teacher crush from Uni, since he’s a swimmer hailing from AC. And we do know their supposed reputations, don’t we? *wink*


Actually, it’s all a local urban myth lah. The one that says that AC swimmers got damn bloody lovable bodies (this is not an R(A) site, or I would have said something cruder).

Muahahaha…then it’s pretty obvious what we are gonna talk abt, rite?

Today’s topic is abt ---------Mission-impossible-------the assignation to peek on A’s ‘supposed’ washboard abs.



Does he or does he not have any?




*dum- dum- DUMMMM......*



All the while we went out, talked, behave like frens, fingers brushing each other or hands clasping, he’s probably thinking:

AKK is so peaceful and serene, even shy, what a decent girlfren I’ve got.


He'll never know that the real AKK's mind is as dirty as a toxic waste dump. It has to be the many years of living in repression and sex-deprivation (26 bloody years of it!).


And come on lah, let's be frank, who ever likes a prudish blogger, ya? Why, I'm not prudish, hell no! in fact, while he’s sitting there so calmly munching off on his Big and Tasty, I was eyeing him like he’s my up-sized Beef Whopper.........


Hot Damn! There was a million different ways that sweet kiss could have spewed into something sleazier, dirtier and much more exciting-er......


And best of all, this glorious Swimmer is ALL MINE!!!! MINE!!!!


Woohooo!!!!!!


So since sooner or later, he shall be bodily mine (I believe in not wasting time), I’m kinda dying to find out if he still and does have this startling deep abs from the last time I saw him at the pool.


Not that it seriously matters lah, but it’d be nice to know, rite? So I can prepare myself, rite? And not faint from excitement and miss the whole experience, RITE? Yea! I know you guys would understand!




He had his throat bared in the hot weather.........


Gosh.....if only polo tees had more buttons......... So I was nibbling on a French fry when my eyes just started wondering down his chest......


I was trying to ‘power up!’ my X-ray vision when I suddenly heard him say,



‘What are you doing?’




Obviously he found my squinting eyes and fierce concentration on his stomach slightly disconcerting. Either that or he knows exactly what I was thinking of, because he followed that question up with a lazy smile.....


I hastily powered-down and gave him a slightly cock-eyed smile back..........mission failed first round.......


Throughout the rest of the date, which involved shopping in Orchard and a movie, I was constantly trying to brainstorm ways to find out the existence of that elusive flatbed of flesh. We were holding hands, so I tried bumping myself against him a couple of times, trying to get the flat of my clasped hand to accidentally brush his abs, before turning around to scold a bewildered shopper for pushing too close....


I was failing miserably, although I think the bumps were having a wondrous effect on him. He became more concerned with my heels, asking me to be careful when climbing stairs and in 1 case, pointing out a 10cm open drain and informing me that it’s 1 m ahead of me.........


But in all these cases, his hand would snake around the small of my back to guide me along, so I guess it’s a bonus of sorts .......



The end of the day ended with a nice dinner at Raffles Hotel. By then, I was totally discouraged. Nothing sort of announcing it outright my intentions could get my hands that piece of (still supposed) treasure.



He must have noticed my downcast eyes glumly looking at the cars whizzing by as we walked back, for he started asking, ‘Hey Dear (yayy!), why so glum? was dinner terrible?’


‘Oh no no! Dinner’s Great!’ I perked myself and smiled winsomely, after all it wasn’t his fault I’m such a dunce. ‘And you? how's dinner? OK?’


‘The best!’ he sparkled, warming to his favorite topic, ‘I've never been so full!’



Then without further ado, he did it:


In front of my eyes, he matter-of-factly put his hand on his tummy and began to rub it in cirlces..........



He was using the hand that was holding mine.........



The back of my hand felt like it was rolling pass .......3 .........humungous ............speedbumps.......



Going up.........bonk bonk bonk! Coming down........bonk bonk bonk!



I was in thrilling euphoria just imagining the million hundred images how his speedbumps (new name for his abs!) looked like.......I felt faint all over.....







Then I saw his face......he had that lazy smile again........


Seeing me blush at the excitment his tummy alone had caused, he burst out laughing while he continued rubbing the back of my hand against those speedbumps, trying to set it on fire ......


I also started laughing through the blaze of deep-red blushing before we ended up giving each other a big hug.....I was beyond redemption and beyond embarassment....



‘Arrghh!! How did you know?!’




‘Since you start bumping me even when there were no crowds and you were scolding thin air......’




‘Damn! So embarrassing.’




‘Don’t worry, next time I’ll try bumping back to see if you were wearing a maximiser.’




‘Hahahahahah...I'm...’




‘Don’t tell me yet! I’ll find out myself….Next time, just ask, OK? I try my best to accommodate, hahahaha........’



‘OK.....erm……can I put my hand under your shirt?’



‘Be my guest.........’




And that, frens, is how I found out, with my own hand, for the first time, how a 6 pack felt like, a case of Mission Impossible becoming Possible. Anything is Possible, even to somebody like me........



Out!



AKK





Heheheh.....anyone caring to expound views on the AC urban myth is free to do so. I'm always open to opinions about other schools, espcially if they come attached with pictures of hotbods to prove a point. pls send team photos (must be in swimming trunks) to akkueh@gmail.com. I'll post them up.