To Llyn, from Liv

[Anonymous]

I'll bring the whine, as usual, if you bring the dynes.  But these 'things' you speak of.

So vague, Intram.

What ever do you mean?  

I'm so innocent I just don't gollydarngosh fucking know.

-Liv

[Anonymous]

Dinner dates aren't my cup of tea, darling. Let's skip straight to dessert.

Well, since you gave me so much time to think...

You can do my dishes.

-L. Intram

[Anonymous]

For shame, Trammy.  I do no man's dishes.

I don't even do my own, I've been making some Candidate deal with them.  Poor kid, he's not too bright.  They nearly never are, the ones who stick around.

I'd continue flirting, Lynkins, but I'm too confused.  Dishwashing: after desert, right?  And where's the innuendo?  I can't find it, and I'm practically professional at double entendre.  Maybe if you talked about licking cutlery, I could give you something back.

-Liv

[Anonymous]

Trammy.
That throws me.

Of course, after dessert. I wouldn't need them done beforehand.

There wasn't an innuendo. You're too good at those.
I thought the cutlery-licking would go without saying, considering. I wouldn't entrust my knives to a dishwasher. I have to sharpen them often enough...

-L. Intram

[Anonymous]

You like the nomen, huh?  Trammy.  It wasn't easy, it was between that or Lint.

Happily, my names shift nearly as often as do the identities they describe.

It's too bad, really.  Attractive fellow like yourself, reduced to sharpening his own knives.  Though frankly, L-Tram, you're a bit on the skinny side.  Someday you might want to try less dessert and more dinner.

-Liv