TMI Thursday – Installment 4

Ok.. so I know that I’ve missed a few TMI Thursday. Not for um :: cough cough :: lack of content but simply, I forget it’s Thursday most times.. usually reminded when I find Project Runway on the cable grid fifteen minutes after it started.

HATE missing the first 15 minutes.

And.. yknow.. once Project Runway is over I’m toast so there you go.

Anyhoo…

So today.. since I’m basically snowed in AND it’s Thursday, I figured I’d resurrect the tradition!

At least I know that will make Gary happy and Mark pee himself. Maybe. That’s the goal anyway!

A little while ago, Gary posted posted a question on his blog that made me think of something that happened to me years ago… and was repeated to just about everyone who knew someone who knew what happened to me.

That’s A LOT of people folks.. since I generally laugh at myself and have no filter for embarassing myself.

Ok.. I left you hanging long enough.

CAUTION: The following may leave you with a visual you may not want. It may also leave you really offended or you may wind up spilling hot coffee on your lap. If you do, don’t sue. I have absolutely no money to hire a lawyer for frivilous lawsuits.

A’ight..

So in case you didn’t know, I had my woo-ha pierced. You know what a whoo-ha is, right? It’s a friend of mine’s term for the female part of the body that differentiates them from males. Yknow, the Y? The um.. Mound of Venus? The Va-jay-jay?

OK!!!!!!!!!! Geez!! The Clit.. alright? I had my clit pierced!!

If you didn’t know and want to find out alllllll about it, read HERE.

So maybe a week or so after it was pierced, I was having dinner with a group of friends that I used to work with. I guess about 6 or 7 of us. We went to this pretty upscale restaurant where my friend Gags knew someone who knew someone.

NOTE: I call her Gags NOT for the obvious reasons.

So I did the whole girly thing and got all fancied up. To mentally prepare, I even put on underwear.

Yes.. for those of you who don’t already know, I’m not a big fan of underwear.

WARNING: MEN SKIP OVER

I had.. well.. still have.. this really girly black lace thong / pantie set that makes my boobs look AMAZING!! So amazing that I can actually say that I know what Victoria’s little bitty secret is!

SAFE FOR MEN TO RESUME READING

I really wanted to wear these really awesome pair of heels that I had bought:

Please don't ask me why I have a picture of my shoes!

So since I generally buy shoes without caring if I have something to match them, I dug through my closet and found this really sweet pair of black pants that had this beading deal on them .. and a light tan suede top that wrapped around just the right way to show off a little bit of the black lace bra.

I can do the girly thing when I really.. really want to!

Anyway.. so we meet up at the restaurant and we’re having a good time catching up on this and catching up on that.

Right after the main course is served, I have to go to the bathroom. I drink ALOT of coffee generally and even more fluids were ingested during the wait at the bar for the rest of our group and during dinner so far.. so I really had to go pee.

I’m not a very good “.. I think I may have to tinkle so I’ll go now just in case” person. I’m the “.. wait for the very last nano second before having to race to the nearest bathroom and then unbutton.. unzip.. or pull down along the way” kinda gal.

And that’s exactly what happened.

I race to the bathroom.. bust into the stall.. start pulling down my pants… and OH MY FUCKING GOD THE PAIN.

A searing white hot lightening of pain that made me forget all about my need to empty my bladder.

What the hell?

I try lowering my pants and underwear again.. slowly this time.. and it won’t budge without my having to suck in my breath so hard to avoid the lightening.

And then it dawns on me. Oh.. son of a BITCH!!! My piercing poked through the lace of the thong and got all twisted up in there. It was so absurd that I started laughing. Not to myself, mind you.. out loud and proud!

I have this really bawdy laugh and when I find something really, really funny.. I laugh. Loud.

So I’m standing in the stall with my back to the door, digging down in my whoo-ha trying to get the little barbell-y thing untangled from my underwear. And the more I couldn’t.. the more I laughed.

Someone happened to come into the bathroom and heard me laughing.. but to her, it sounded like I was crying. I had heard the door opening so I wasn’t jumping out of my skin when I heard someone gently knocking on the stall door asking if I was okay..

Between laughs.. I said that I was fine.

She asked if I was with anyone in the restaurant and I told her again that I was fine, thank you very much.

Obviously, she had a good Samaritan complex and when she left the bathroom she went up to the nearest waitress and told her that there was a woman who was obviously distressed in the ladies’ room.

The waitress happened to be standing right behind Gags. Now.. you might have to “know” Gags to appreciate this but she she hears EVERYTHING. I mean.. EVERYTHING. Put her in a stadium full of people and she will tell you what everyone around her is talking about. Usually it’s funny. Not this time.

She hears the conversation between the woman and the waitress.. puts two and two together and very loudly says “OMG! There’s something wrong with Leese!!!” She jumps up from the table along with two more of my girlfriends and they rush to the ladies room.

While all this is happening, I’m still in the stall diddling my crotch. Trying to do that in 4 inch heels kinda throws off your balance so I figured I would leverage myself by putting one foot on the rim of the toilet seat. Yknow.. give me a little space to work with.

So I’m standing there.. with my foot up on the toilet rim trying to finish what I started and the heel of my foot slips.

Did you see the picture of my favorite shoes?

My favorite SUEDE shoes???

Forgetting all about my tangled underwear, I use sheer will to not have my tan suede shoes dunk in tidy bowl blue water. Grabbing onto the top of the stall walls helped. Alot.

But now I’m laughing even harder.. especially because I am in a very compromised position with pants almost at my ankles and holding myself up by the stall walls.

It’s at this moment that Gags and my other friends bust into the bathroom literally screaming LEESE! LEESE! ARE YOU OK? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?

Which .. yknow.. if I was a normal person, I would have just told her everything was fine but I’m not normal so I bust out laughing louder.

Gags has been my friend a long time and she’s been through a lot of ups and downs with me .. especially with the Spawn From Satan’s Ass.

She hears the laughing.. and I guess it must have sounded like I was bawling.. so with a loud OMG!! she literally dives under the stall door.. all brown and blond spiky hair and designer glasses and on her back.

The look on her face when she saw me hanging from the stall walls with my pants at my ankles and my foot in the air was PRICELESS.

It was one of those moments where it feels like time stops or everything moves in slow motion. It felt like forever but it was probably and instant before she yelled WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU FREAK????

Through laughs, I told her to help me get my balance.

WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSE TO DO? IM HALF WAY UNDER THE DOOR ON THIS DISGUSTING FLOOR THAT WILL PROBABLY GIVE ME ECCCCZZZZEEEEMMMMMAAAAA!!!

Gags has this thing with eczema.

She winds up crawling all the way into the stall with me and having no real idea how it happened, I was able to get my balance. And between her yelling at me, I was able to tell her what happened.

And then she laughed.. which made me laugh.. which made our friends who were still in the bathroom wonder what the fuck we were doing.

JUST RIP THEM OFF FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!

I told her I couldn’t do that.. that I liked this set.. and she nodded in complete woman understanding.

She then did what only a real BFF would do .. offered to untangle it for me. But that was just too freakin’ weird.. even for me. So Gags unrolled half a roll of toilet paper onto the floor.. made me take my shoes off.. and then I did this whole Houdini trick to step out of my underwear and when I finally did, I was able to do what needed to be done to get untangled.

My other friends had already left the bathroom once they found out what was going on so when me and Gags returned, they all stood up and clapped.

There was a large group at the table to the side, asked one of my friends what was going on and she loudly proclaimed THE ONE IN BLACK PANTS GOT HER PIERCING STUCK IN HER UNDERWEAR!!!!

You remember that shampoo commercial for Fabrege? You know that one.. it went something like “.. she told her friend who told her friend who told her friend and so on and so on and so on” ? …

yea.. it was something like that

TMI Thursday – Installment 3

Okay..

Heh…

I actually debated whether I would tell this or not. Only two people know about it and it reveals something about me that only really Chief knows.

But it’s waaaaaaayy funny so I figured what the hell.

NOTE: This is going to contain adult content so if your underage OR have take offense to anything containing adult content STOP READING RIGHT NOW

Alright… let me get a sip of coffee here.

So I’ve never been a “frigid” kind of gal … I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m a freak that has some slack in her leash.

The Spawn from Satan’s Ass was strictly a pump-pump-release missionary guy so yknow… sex was kind of boring for 18 years. Well, replace “kinda” with REALLY.

So when I met Chief.. I was in this whole FREE TO BE ME mentality. Inevitably with adults, the whole sex conversation came up. I can remember if I asked him what his fantasy was or if he volunteered the information.. although I can’t actually imagine a guy being dumb enough to OFFER this up to a women that he really didn’t know yet but that’s beside the point.

He tells me that his fantasy has always been to be with two woman at the same time. Real original there Chief!!

And I respond that since I’m more into lesbian porn the regular porn :: I thought I heard the boner pop up over the phone with that statement :: and that I have this little bi-curiousity vein running through me I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility.

I think that’s when he asked me to marry him right then. LOL.

Anyway… a month or so into dating, his birthday was coming up and I was struggling to figure out what to get him. You know the whole new relationship – big impact gift. And the thought hit me that making his fantasy come true was an AWESOME gift.

So I call my friend Biker Boy Bob who’s all into glory holes and swinging because if ANYBODY would know how to set this up, it would be him. The problem is that I used to date Biker Boy Bob and the reason why we stopped dating was because of the whole glory hole and swinging thing.

I know, I’m a study in contradictions… right?

Anyway.. Biker Boy Bob was ALL into helping me except HE wanted to be involved. Um.. NO.. that would make it an ORGY and this gal just doesn’t do ORGIES ..

He tells me that orgies are like having multiple pets. Once you go past two, it really doesn’t matter.

Um.. yyyyeeeeaaaaaaa…. ok.

So Biker Boy Bob gets a knickers in a twist and won’t help me.

FINE!! I have the internet!!!

So I go online and start popping in and out of different forums and the one thing that kept coming up is the whole mental part of it. What seems like a good idea can turn emotionally disastrous for the woman who wasn’t the second woman.. in other words, the wife.. girlfriend.. ect.

And even though I’m really not a jealous person.. I do have self esteem issues and body issues and issues that every other normal woman has. Well.. normal like me at least.

But none of that mattered because.. honestly? It was too new of a relationship to have any type of those deep seated emotional ties. You know what I’m saying, right? I mean … yeah, I really really dug him but that whole OMG I CANT WAIT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU AND YOUR MORONIC KIDS AND CRACK WHORE EX WIFE feeling hadn’t started to tingle yet.

So, to me, it really didn’t matter. I wanted to have the experience and if it turned out that he was more into the OTHER woman after then so what. I knew that if that DID happen, I would be crushed and hurt and all that other stuff but I also knew I’d get over it and move on.

Alright.. so the more I looked online the more safety became an issue. Because, lets face it, there are A LOT of skanks on the internet. And the one thing I didn’t want to take away from the experience was an STD.

Going along with the whole “… you get what you pay for” philosophy, I figured that my health was worth paying for. So I dug into the local yellow pages :: I’m thisclose to a large, urban city so finding a (( cough cough )) service wasn’t going to be difficult :: and found exactly what I was looking for.

Big Ads = Expensive Ads = as reputable a bordello as you can legally get away with!!

So I call the number and this woman answers. I tell her that it’s my boyfriend’s birthday and I would like to gift him with a night “out on the town” but wanted to have some “company” just in case.. yknow.. we ran out of things to talk about.

The woman definitely caught the WINK  WINK … but really, ANYBODY would have caught on. Cause, yknow, the more you try to hide something the more apparent it is!!!!

WOMAN: Well, I have three girls available that night but I don’t think Diamond and Crystal :: I swear! :: are what you’re looking for. I think (P)Earl would fit your needs.

ME: Ok.. it has to be a female.

WOMAN: Yes, I know.

ME: UM.. Ok.. no. I mean it has to be a “female” female.

WOMAN: Yes, I understand that.

ME: Ok.. (giggle) Look, I never did this before so I’m not sure I’m saying the right thing.

WOMAN: (laughs) No, I understand exactly what you need.

ME: Ahhh. So… why exactly can’t I hire Diamond or Crystal?

WOMAN: Their availablity is limited time wise.

ME: Uh-huh. Ok. But.. um.. see.. I just know……

WOMAN: You won’t be disappointed with (P)Earl

ME: Well.. I’m sure Earl is very nice and all but I’m sure my boyfriend will NOT appreciate a girl who really isn’t a girl.

WOMAN: (soooo confused) What?

ME: My boyfriend isn’t going to go for a transvestite.

WOMAN: WHAT?

ME: I said…

WOMAN: No.. no.. I HEARD what you said. (P)Earl isn’t a transvestite. What are you talking about???

ME: OMG.. I’m sorry! I thought that’s what you called them.

WOMAN: Call WHO?

ME: People like Earl.

WOMAN: What???????

ME: You know…

WOMAN: Obviously, I don’t know.

ME: Guys dressing like girls… Chicks with dicks???

WOMAN: (obviously annoyed) What??? Is this a joke?

ME: No! No! It’s not a joke.. Listen, all I’m trying to do is get a girl for my boyfriend’s birthday. Not someone like Earl.

WOMAN: (P)Earl is a girl…

ME: (defensive and really getting pissed off) THEN WHY IS HIS NAME EARL??

WOMAN: (Waaaaay more pissed off then I am now) PEARL!!! PEARL!!! HER NAME IS PEARL!!! NOT EARL!! I think you need to call another service.

ME: oh.

And then she hung up on me.

I swear to God that whole time I thought she was saying Earl and I remember thinking that she had misunderstood what I was looking for. I guess I hear with a lisp, I don’t know… but after the phone call I got HYSTERICAL … because yknow… if this was going to happen, OF COURSE it would happen to me!!!!

I immediately called Chief and told him the conversation. It was just too damn funny to keep to myself. He laughed just as hard but then turned all serious on me.

CHIEF: I appreciate you wanting to do that and all…

ME: Why do I hear a “but” coming

CHIEF: Well, it’s just that I don’t think our relationship would stand it

ME: Huh?

CHIEF: I’m just saying that maybe it isn’t such a good idea

ME: I’m not catching what your saying

CHIEF: Look.. It’s just that.. yknow.. I love the fact that you would want to do this for me but let’s just leave the fantasy the fantasy, ok?

And then I got it. His feelings were deeper for me then mine were for him at that point in our relationship. The emotional feelings I had read about on the internet applied to him more then they would have applied to me then. And I also thought that having a fantasy and going through with the fantasy are two very different things and maybe he wasn’t as confident as he had first made himself out to be.

Dunno..

Just something else to put in my “… me and Dick Tracy” box!!! LOL

 

 

TMI Thursday: Installment 2

… I think I skipped a week.

Not sure.

But if I did.. I apologize. Too much stuff going on!

Anyway so continuing in the tradition, here’s the next installment of TMI Thursday.

Have to warn you.. this is REALLY TMI so if you THINK you might be the LITTLEST bit offended, then I suggest you stop reading.

RIGHT NOW!!

Okay..

I have this friend Big Al.

Big Al is this flaming, rainbow flag waver wrapped up inside a 6’2″ corporate suit body. he’s my oldest friend and he was actually my go-to guy when I needed a Dago Dong made.

Anyway.. more then a few years ago, he tells me that he had gone upstate to get a tattoo and wound up getting his.. um.. err.. well.. he wound up getting the tip of his dick pierced. I think they call it a “Prince Albert” piercing but what the hell do I know.

Big Al tells me that the husband and wife team that owns the tattoo place are really, really cool people and that they’ve become really good friends and that they were traveling down from upstate to spend the weekend with him.. and HEY! WOULDN’T IT BE JUST FANTASTIC IF YOU GOT YOUR HOO-HA PIERCED??

ME: My what?
HIM: Your Hoo-Ha.
ME: My Hoo-WHAT?
HIM: Your “thing?”
ME: My THING??????
HIM: (totally frustrated now) YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BITCH!
ME: (hysterically laughing) Ohhhhh… you mean my [edited for content]. Why the hell didn’t you just say [edited for content], you asshole?
HIM: BECAUSE! I don’t like that word.
ME: You have your dick pierced but don’t like the word [edited for content]? You’re fucking weird!

Anyway.. I have to tell you that I never thought about getting my [edited for content] pierced. Never crossed my mind and I wasn’t considering it after Big Al’s suggestion.

But he kept on it and on it and on it and the day before this couple was to arrive at his house, I figured “.. why the hell not.” ‘Cuz.. yknow.. y’all should know that I’m more then a little bit left of center!

He got SO freakin’ excited! He tells me that this couple is all about Mother Earth .. and Pele… and how our bodies are temples to be adorned and appreciated and taken care of.

Y’know, the “New Age” crap.

NOTE: Apologies to any New Agers out there reading this.

To be honest, I just let it go in one ear and out the other. Whatever. He tells me that they’ll come to my house because it has my energy and whatever and I told him that I really didn’t care as long as he was there because there was no way in hell that I was going to let a New Age couple from upstate monkey around my HOO HA!

So fast foward to the next day and Big Al arrives with this couple who looked NOTHING like what I thought they would look. Visualize Ken and Barbie meet the Stepford Wives.

So Barbie starts scoping around my house to find JUST THE RIGHT area with the BEST VIBES and settles on a corner in my living room. She moves my chaise lounge into the corner and starts to cover it with this sheet.

Nope. No way. There’s no way I’m putting my butt on a sheet that I didn’t launder myself. I didn’t know if there were any errant pubic hairs lingering around.

Sorry. Just the way I am.

She was a little put off about that.. but Big Al kind of gave her an eye roll that ALL TOO OBVIOUSLY said, “.. yeah, I know she’s strange but just put up with her.”

Which, of course, caused me to eye roll Big Al.

Anyway.. she ALL TOO OBVIOUSLY deals with it and I get my own sheet to cover my chaise.

While this is going on, Ken is setting up all these candles and lighting them. “This is going to be a spiritual experience” he said.

By that point, I’m really starting to regret the whole thing.

Everything gets set up and I lay down on the chaise pretending like I’m getting a gyno exam. Barbie pulls out a wad of something.. lights it.. and starts waving it over me.. chanting all this shit. The dude is coaching me like I’m in some kind of alien lamaze class “.. clear your mind.. think happy thoughts.. breath deeply.. visualize a warm pool or water enveloping you” .. that kind of shit.

Barbie is still waving her smoking whatever around.. chanting and dancing around like some LSD-tripping Woodstock casualty.

And I’m waiting.. and waiting.. and waiting.. and getting all tense because .. you know.. I’m getting my [edited for content] pierced for CHRIST’S SAKE AND WOULD YOU JUST DO IT ALREADY???????

And he does…

And as God is my witness, I have NEVER felt pain like that in my life. I’m talking like.. WHITE HOT pain that kind of blinds you? That makes your face numb? .. and I have a high threshold for pain but OMG just remembering it is making my eyes tear!

I must have screamed. I can’t see me NOT screaming when something hurt that bad! I do know that being the ghetto kid that I am, I jumped off of my chaise lounge and literally knocked Ken on his ass.

Barbie started chanting louder and waving her burning bush :: no pun intended! :: faster and Big Al was holding me by my shoulders trying to calm me down and I’m all like  WHAT.THE.HELL .. yknow? I told Ken and Barbie to knock off the New Age crap like.. NOW.. because everything in their arsenal wasn’t going to do nothing to “cleanse my chi” ..

To their credit .. or maybe their fright :: hard to know :: they stopped and started putting their stuff away. Meanwhile, I went into the bathroom and did my best contortion act over a mirror to try and see actually just how mutilated I was.

‘Cause, yknow.. I SWORE my shit was left back on the chaise lounge!

But it actually didn’t look so bad. I mean, I kinda dug it.. so I go back out to my  living room all.. like.. I’M SO SORRY I FREAKED.. IT LOOKS FANTASTIC .. blah blah blah…

They said it was nothing unusual .. that they had experienced ALOT worse. Big Al “humphed” at that but he can be an ass sometimes.

Finally they all left … leaving me with instructions on what I needed to do to promote healing :: sorry, but I wasn’t going to boil a rock dug up from my yard and then drinking the water :: and I was left alone with my new addition.

It’s been a few years since I wore “gential jewlery” .. for a variety of reasons.. Some where good reasons :: omg! wink! wink! :: .. some were bad :: how about getting so stuck in lace underwear when trying to use a public toilet that your $850.00 suede stilettos slide off the toilet rim and into the water :: .. some where .. um.. awkward :: crossing legs during a business meeting :: ..

But at any rate .. it was an experience and DEFINITELY qualifies for TMI Thursday!!

 

 

TMI Thursday

Ok.. so this is going to be a new feature, which I KNOW I’m going to regret somewhere down the line… especially if my mother discovers these posts.

Guess who’s not going to get the super tiny laptop for Christmas this year!!

Anyway, my blogging-buddy Mark :: his blog is the reason why I have to wear Depends :: does this and I figured .. yknow.. with as much info as I give out already why the hell NOT just strip everything off and run down the street naked.

Sorry.. not a good visual this early in the am!

So here we go.. my 1st TMI Thursday post.. and thanks again to Mark for the idea.

So flashback about 20 years or so..

In my area, there used to be “976” numbers.

“976” numbers were advertised by scantily clad women with breathy voices cooing .. call me and I’ll tell you my deepest fantasies … or .. want to hear what happened to ME last night? Call me …

Of course, they would ALWAYS leave out the “… you degenerate fuck who really needs to move out of your momma’s basement”

Anyway.. so 976 numbers were big money back in the day. I think it was something like 75 cent a minute or whatever.

So back in the day I was living with the Spawn from Satan’s Ass :: I don’t think we were married yet.. in fact, I KNOW we weren’t married yet :: and since he didn’t work but had this unsatiable desire to live like he did, I had to get a second job.

So I looked in the back of the local community paper and saw this add to write stories for 50 bucks a pop! Hmm… writing? Something I can do at home? 50 BUCKS???

That was a lot of money back then.. especially when you lived with someone who doesn’t work and had a habit of going to the store to buy ONE THING and comes home with a blown out credit card and a lot of useless stuff.

So I call the number and this dude answers and tells me what KIND of writing it was. I think he used the word “erotic” but after meeting him, I don’t think he knew how to spell it let alone say it so it just might be me filling the gaps of old memories.

Anyway.. he tells me that it’s for a “976” number and asks me if I knew what that was. I said I did and he asked me if I had a problem with it. Nope, I said. He then tells me that if I wanted to RECORD what I wrote, he’d throw in an extra 25 bucks.

Heh.

75 bucks for indulging in the little freak that I am?

Perfect!

So I set about churning out these one page, single space stories. I think I must have wrote maybe 5 or 6 in one day. Let me tell you, it isn’t as easy as you might think. Being the perfectionist that I am, each story had to be different (characters, scenes, etc.) with no two “experiences” (read as: the erotic part) the same. The local library didn’t carry a copy of the Kama Sutra and this was WAY before the internet was at my finger tips so it was a challenge.

Finally satisfied, I called the dude and told him that I had the stories. He had told me that he started this phone line as a secondary source of income and in fact, he owned a jewlery store. He had set up a recording studio type thing in the basement of the store so we set up a time after hours for me to record my stories for the phone line.

Of course, The Spawn from Satan’s Ass wanted to come with.. for my safety, of course.. so we set out for the joint and pretty soon we were in the dusty basement “studio” which consisted of just a wooden table.. an old fashioned type microphone and some kind of recording thingy.

I sat on one side.. he sat on the other and the Spawn from Satan’s Ass sat on the end. Dude was wearing head sets.. gave me a cue.. and off I went.

Just let me say that I don’t know how porn stars do it… well, maybe that’s not the right analogy because after all, they ARE getting fucked.. maybe legit actors and actresses are a better comparison. I mean, here I am reading these stories and having to put in the “ooooohhhsss” and “mmmmmms” and “yes! yes! YESSSS!”s and make them sound convincing.

I didn’t think I was doing a particularly good job of it until maybe after the 3rd or 4th story, the Spawn from Satan’s Ass yells “YOU’RE GETTING A HARD ON!!”

Dude scrambles to turn off the recording machine as the Spawn jumps up from his chair. “You son of a bitch! You’re getting a hard on! We’re out of here.”

And being that the Spawn was the Spawn, I got up too. The dude shoved a wad of money in my hand and off we went.

Spawn was ranting and raving as we got to the car. The INDIGNITY OF IT ALL!! He thought Dude was PROFESSIONAL!! He couldn’t BELIEVE it! He should have PUNCHED IN THE GROIN SO HARD HIS BALLS WOULD BE IN HIS STOMACH… or some nonsense like that.

Then he started getting pissed at ME because I wasn’t bothered by it. Well.. DUH!!!.. I mean.. I would have been insulted if he didn’t get a hard on because THAT was the point of the whole thing, right?

Anyway.. of course, I wasn’t “allowed” to do it again and therefore ended my highly profitable career as an erotic writer before it even started!!