He's got a digital watch on his wrist and you wanna know how it tastes. You've been watching him all afternoon, sitting at his desk trying to make it through this defensive driving class without falling asleep, and you can't help but stare at the jet black plastic band wrapped around his snow white wrist. You want to slip your tongue underneath that band and have him tighten it, restraining your tongue against his skin, making a permanent imprint of the little rectangles of the band on the top of your tongue, and the hairs of his wrist on the bottom of your tongue.
"Are you looking at my fucking watch Grandma?" he's shouting. You can't hear him. You're mesmerized.
"Please stop looking at his watch ma'am. You're far too old to be behaving like this," the defensive driving teacher is saying now. Not that you can hear anything but the occasional beep emitted by his watch when another quarter-hour passes.
"I think she might be touching herself," the guy behind you is saying, as if any words that came out of his mouth mattered in your universe.
"No wait. I think she's setting something on fire!" someone sitting next to you is shouting.
In the chaos of everyone running from the blaze you've set, grab your digital watch wearing Adonis and slam his head against the wall three times hard, knocking him unconscious. Then lock the door and hold him in your arms and check the time on his digital watch just before the roof caves in on top of the two of you. That is the time of your death as an unlicensed driver in love.
Happy You Want To Lick His Digital Watch Day!