Scrumdidilyumptious DILFs

[eatshitndie]

dear sister claire, is this the type of dilf you’re intoxicated with?

 

[LordElrond]

deleted

 

[Cottonmouth]

see everyone? You @glockman serial liar criminal son of whore using slut and prostitute to attack me as if it’s your badge of honour. Go to my Facebook to do that to show your honor ok? Pui!

This is your badge, you can pin it on your breast to show your customers.

 

[Claire]

dear sister claire, is this the type of dilf you’re intoxicated with?
View attachment 115624

Nah.

However, your question did ignite me on a journey of memories, whilst having my solo work from home salad lunch.

Looking back on my dating past, I am certainly discomfited.

In my early 20s, I was a young and immature girl.

Fresh out law school, like a lamb looking for the perfect 6 packs "beast" to devour me, though my preference of the "beast" was one with a boyish face, maybe in the sort like the current era's Song Joong-Ki.

From 26 to early 30s, I was searching for the most valuable career driven man∼a successful senior lawyer, a specialist doctor in medicine, a presentable President scholar or even an established politician amongst the ranks of PAP elites. That should make my parents happy, so I believed.

After 35 to present, with my stellar legal career on the right track, with increasing property and monetary asset base, I value emotional and sexual compatibility over all the other benchmarks in selecting my "prey", for my adventurous exploits to find love and "bodily" needs.

I wouldn't know how my tastebuds will change when I hit the big FOUR ZERO. That thought sucks as much as the numerals when spoken in Cantonese!

Imagine gravity wrecking havoc on me, and stepping into the winter of facial and body deterioration?!?! SUCKS!!!

While S$550 for a mere 60ml tub of Estee Lauder's LA MER is peanuts to me, the thought of having to apply this "keep young" moisturizer certainly makes my blood runs cold.

Nevertheless, calming my thoughts, I reckon I wouldn't be far from looking for a cerebral soulmate to dance with me, physically and spiritually into the night.

I want a Patrick Swayze, with me as Jennifer Grey, dancing to the tune of “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.”

I want to be like Jennifer, taking my leap of faith, with a few small steps, blast off, launching myself with an awesome flying jump, right into my Patrick's waiting hands, hoisting me aloft in the air, not giving a fxxk of what my parents or others in society think of us and our relationship.

Hope the above gives you an indication of my cup of tea.

Have a good afternoon, Mr Sage!

For me, back to work!

 

[bigcockman]

You have a puerile attitude to issues, women and life in general.

I do not know which school or university you graduated from.

A few clicks with a cursory glance of your threads and posts seem to indicate to me (at least), that the schools you attended (or graduated from) are indeed appropriate for a cretin like your good self.

You are as thick as two short planks.

I have only two words for you.

Grow Up!

Why are you such a nasty woman?

 

[Claire]

Why are you such a nasty woman?

Nasty? Absolutely not!

I always keep my writings classy, never trashy.

Just a constructive criticism on your trash postings day in and out.

Of course there's a way you can avoid my criticism. Do nothing, say nothing and be nothing.

 

[eatshitndie]

Nah.

However, your question did ignite me on a journey of memories, whilst having my solo work from home salad lunch.

Looking back on my dating past, I am certainly discomfited.

In my early 20s, I was a young and immature girl.

Fresh out law school, like a lamb looking for the perfect 6 packs "beast" to devour me, though my preference of the "beast" was one with a boyish face, maybe in the sort like the current era's Song Joong-Ki.

From 26 to early 30s, I was searching for the most valuable career driven man∼a successful senior lawyer, a specialist doctor in medicine, a presentable President scholar or even an established politician amongst the ranks of PAP elites. That should make my parents happy, so I believed.

After 35 to present, with my stellar legal career on the right track, with increasing property and monetary asset base, I value emotional and sexual compatibility over all the other benchmarks in selecting my "prey", for my adventurous exploits to find love and "bodily" needs.

I wouldn't know how my tastebuds will change when I hit the big FOUR ZERO. That thought sucks as much as the numerals when spoken in Cantonese!

Imagine gravity wrecking havoc on me, and stepping into the winter of facial and body deterioration?!?! SUCKS!!!

While S$550 for a mere 60ml tub of Estee Lauder's LA MER is peanuts to me, the thought of having to apply this "keep young" moisturizer certainly makes my blood runs cold.

Nevertheless, calming my thoughts, I reckon I wouldn't be far from looking for a cerebral soulmate to dance with me, physically and spiritually into the night.

I want a Patrick Swayze, with me as Jennifer Grey, dancing to the tune of “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.”

I want to be like Jennifer, taking my leap of faith, with a few small steps, blast off, launching myself with an awesome flying jump, right into my Patrick's waiting hands, hoisting me aloft in the air, not giving a fxxk of what my parents or others in society think of us and our relationship.

Hope the above gives you an indication of my cup of tea.

Have a good afternoon, Mr Sage!

For me, back to work!

you’re in your prime, claire the captivator. thank you for sharing your life’s journey to nirvana.

women in their late 30’s reach their peak in sexuality and emotional maturity in a clockwork of carnal yet sometimes cruel confluence.

sha, a single lady in her late 30s, shares a similar fate. her career in ascendancy, finances in order, abode secured, she is now more (s)expressive of her true desires. she’s verbose, but not as eloquent and composed as you.

she’s all over the shop with battles fought and won among rivals and colleagues and difficult domestic tasks she single-handedly completes. her body language tells me a different story. i can sense lust in her eyes and faint attempts to invite intimacy. if i were to kiss her i would have shut her up, and passion would ensue. but i’m always reminded of the anguish and danger that lurk underneath if i am to satisfy that lust…. and her longing to be “complete” and released.

just a week ago, i bought her coffee and danish for breakfast. and there she was at the door, long and lush on literature but short and skimpy in silk and satin. she put on some weight due to remote work and lack of exercise. no yoga for her. her legs (as they were most {s}exposed) were no longer skinny like a teenager’s, but they sashayed with alluring daintiness. i noticed her royal “hindness”; her buttocks were not as perky but still ample. she had tremendous ease and openness with me, thus she was braless, wearing a loose blouse.

she told me everything about her life in 69 minutes of breakfast. (i’ve heard it before, every time i meet her. it’s the usual preamble but no eye rolls from me as i’m patient and kind to her.) well, she ate all the maple syrup and pecan delights as i only drank coffee. she did all the talking and eating. and then she confronted me as though it was my fault. “i know you always wanted to see me alone in my condo. here’s your chance.” “wtf?!” i was wide eyed.

i changed the subject and suggested we went out for lunch. i wasn’t “hungry” but she was.

have a nice day!

ps: i was composing this while watching a euro semi-final.

 

[kaninabuchaojibye]

when a woman enter her forties and fifties, they become garang
some become extremely vulgar and hurl vulgarities everywhere they go
hawker centres full of such women
even here also got one
haaaa