Friends, For the past two years -- in fact, since my last party with a certain chocolate caramel delight -- I've been suffering some horrible symptoms. Lord, have I been suffering: the shakes, the sweats, chills, a little fever, and terrible pains in my lips, heart, arms and loins... Some of you may recognize them, but for the uninitiated, let me identify them for you: they're advance signs of severe Paris Micheals withdrawal. :cry: :cry: :cry: Can anyone really blame me for this affliction? I mean, look at this extraordinary woman. She, in my humble opinion, is a classic beauty, like the Goddess Nefertiti, from top to bottom: long, curly brunette and auburn strands dangle over her silky shoulders; mesmerizing brownish-grey hazel eyes that are happy, inviting and alluring; perfectly aligned with a pristine and a luscious set of lips that are ideal for kissing. These are movie star, Top Model looks with all the classy and regal elegance that they imply, and that amazingly attractive face sits on top of a dreamy body that deserves to be continuously worshipped. Her ample bosom is again, delightfully immaculate, her posterior is ripe for grabbing and her legs are second to none. Her piercings are incredible...she is my fantasy woman...and I'm fortunate enough to say that Paris has indeed allowed me to realize many of my deepest desirable dreams on a number of occasions. This time around, the masochistic streak within prolonged my agony by a little. See, I attended the St. Pogus festivities and visited the Ranch for approximately five days, which means I saw Paris frequently in a wide variety of corsets, costumes and robes. :shock: She was always happy, always smiling, always pleasant and lit up the room immediately whenever and wherever she entered it. I couldn't take my eyes off her whenever she was around; and the energy she demonstrated in the wee hours of the early mornings was envious. She was like a little Energizer Bunny, working her Mojo to the point where it had a profound affect on everyone graced by her presence. :twisted: :twisted: I decided to torture myself further by inviting her to be my partner at the St. Pogus Co-Ed Lap Dance contest -- and anyone who witnessed the occasion was as dumbstruck and stupefied as I was by her stunning beauty and smoldering sexuality. She decided to recreate a scene in the Demi Moore film Striptease, where a cigar-stoking Demi apparently dressed up in a man's suit and then transformed herself into a seductive siren. Let me say this about Paris: When she commits to something, she commits 100%. I sat in my chair slack-jawed as this tempting tigress heated up the room by about 1000 degrees, stalking her prey (me, gulp) as she rolled, slinked, crawled, and choreographed the perfect seduction. I had trouble seeing straight, my vision blinded by Paris' beauty as she focused all her attention on lucky ol' me... :shock: :wink: Yes, I was the weak link in the partnership, but Paris dazzled enough that she carried the program on her own... Fast forward to our party.... And I must admit, I had been curious from an earlier Ranch Report when Pir8 and Wench had been entertained by the lovely redhead Miss Laci Ann and the steady stream of guests included a nurse-uniform-clad Paris... :shock: :shock: :shock: So imagine my delight when my striking, sweet Paris greeted me in her leather nurse's uniform. I mean, a leather mini-skirted uniform revealing her generous cleavage, white stockings, black heels, a stethoscope and a nurse's cap...my eyes jumped out of their sockets and my jaw hit the floor...again... Once we returned to my room, my personal Florence Naughtygale had no need to take my temperature, as I'm sure I was flushed from head to toe. She did insist that I remove my clothes in order to provide a more thorough physical, and turnabout being fair play, I was adamant that she do the same. :twisted: We never did find an opportunity to use the stethoscope, but needless to say Nurse Paris Micheals provided excellent beside manner and the perfect remedy: some strenuous and passionate release to unlock those pheromones that were ailing me -- including having me conduct a mutually meticulous oral exam that I hope curled her toes more than once. 8) At one point, she assumed a position of authority that rocked the bed so violently that I was afraid we were keeping patient Pogus awake in the next room with all that hammering. :shock: :shock: Certainly my pulse increased dramatically and both my blood flow and adrenaline worked in harmony to improve my circulation. :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: The passion that Paris Micheals poured into our encounter was volcanic; her cinnamon kisses were eclectric, and by the time we were done I was so dazed I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face. Despite the thorough treatment prescribed and delivered by Miss Paris, the remedy was short-lived. Some of the symptoms are back, so I'm afraid that further and future treatments will not only be necessary, only mandatory. :twisted: And I think that it's going to have to be a longer session, perhaps an overnighter that involves Paris applying a number of remedies in her other(!) nurse's uniform. So if you happen to be suffering some of the same symptoms I've described, you must high-tail it to the Moonlite Bunny Ranch and page Nurse Paris Micheals to receive her hands-on diagnosis... After all, you need a specialist for this kind of thing. As for me, I just know I'm not looking to be cured anytime soon... Your honored, humbled, privileged, exhausted and rejuvenated patient, Nick in T.O.
hahah... sorry to hear about those awful withdrawal symptoms! I too feel the pain of separation from miss michaels! Still fantasizing about partying with this sexy lady!! miss u paris girly
With Memorial Day Weekend on hand, I wanted to bump this up and emphasize what a truly amazing experience being with Miss Paris was..and continues to be... :twisted: Mere words can not describe how extraordinary this sculptured Goddess is... Turn your Memorial Day into Memorable Day....book Paris NOW!
