My Opinion Matters
8/17/2007, 12:32 PM
It was one of those nights that many of us probably fondly remember. It was a chilly Saturday night last autumn, and the Sooners were grinding out a tough victory in College Station. Having gone through a significant transition in my life that year from married family man to single father I was relegated to my living room couch as my little girl slept in her bed. I had begun dating a beautiful, intelligent girl just a few months prior to the events that unfolded on this chilly autumn night. A girl, that all in rights is much too good for a man such as myself-A man with bad teeth, a bad smile,a bad haircut, terrible acne, and a worse lisp. However,she remains with me to this day. I'm sure in no small part because I've never told her this story. As I was saying, this girl's virtues are innumerable. However, interest in football and personal selection of an institution for higher learning are not among her strong points. She's an Aggie. An Aggie with a Master's Degree, at that. An oxymoron if there ever was one, right?
The diligent partner that she is, she spent the evening on the couch with me so I could indulge myself in one my true passions-Sooner football. As we were laying there on the couch, in the classic spooning position, the natural course of events unfolded. Having no interest in football, and being an Aggie, she fell asleep somewhere around halftime I believe. This is when things begin to get interesting...
I like to eat. I eat a lot. I couldn't tell you what I had to eat that day to save my life. It could have very easily been four bowls of chili, because that's not unusual for me, but I don't really remember. Whatever it was, it was digested all too easily. Multiple loose stools is what I'm getting at here. Not quite diarhhea, more like pancake batter. Pancake batter with bits of crunchy peanut butter. It was late in the day though and if I remember correctly my physiologic impairment was behind me. (ooh, a pun!) Any of us who have experienced these sort of dietary out-of-body expereiences, which is all of us, don't lie, knows that sometimes during the urgency of the day things are missed. No matter how thoroughly and frequently you wipe, its inevitable that microscopic bits of pancake batter are going to cling to the spincter. It can't be helped. It's one of the unalterable laws of nature. I don't know, and I don't want to know what it is in the chemical framework of fecal particles that causes the skin around the sphincter to itch unmercilessly when not thoroughly wiped away, but it ain't pretty when it happens.
It must have been in the third quarter sometime. The game was really starting to get interesting. There she was sound asleep in front of me and it started to happen. Something whipped those little straggler poo particles into a frenzy because I started to itch back there something fierce. Don't judge me-you only have a few rational choices in a situation like this. You either A) ignore it and hope for the best B) Toss your new lover off of you and announce that you have to go the bathroom to scratch your ***, or C) Make the most of what God gave you in terms of a scratching utility and take care of the matter. Being a man of action, I chose C, sending my sinewy man fingers into the nether-regions to placate the rascally poo-articles. I'd like to say I only had to do this once. I'd be lying if I said that.
This would be a faily innocuous story if it ended there, unfortunately it doesn't. The excitement of the game increased. Not having to attend to any other toilet-related functions, I layed there behind the Aggie woman contently as she still slept. I'm not sure what it was, perhaps I hooped or hollered at something that happened in the game, or perhaps it was just time, but she wakes up...
Hopefully most of you are not too old are too prude to know the know the physical passion that manifests itself in a new relationship. I'll put it to you bluntly, I'm generally a pretty horny wanker. Lucky for me, and because I know she'll never read this, I can confidently share with you that so is she. Now I will take the chance to remind you that we were still in the classic spooning position. My left arm, to which my left hand, to which the offending and contaminated poo-article fingers are attached was wrapped around her. Now that she was awake, she decided to do something she's never done before. I swear to the little baby Jesus she had never done this before. I don't know what compelled her to do it, and before I could fully comprehend what was happening she had grabbed my left hand and put and placed my left index and ring fingers and her mouth...and began sucking on them.
Don't judge me.
A full quarter of the game had probably elapsed since the time I extinguished the itchy-fire that had been blazing on my backside. All of you remember that this was a very close, exciting, nail-biting (ok, bad choice of words) game. With the passage of time and during the excitement of the game I had honestly temporarily forgotten that I had used the fingers that were now in my girlfriend's mouth to violate myself. Needless to say, only a few seconds had passed when I recoiled in disgust at what she was doing. Not wanting to own up to the terrible thing I had done to myself-and to her- and wanting to deflect attention from seemingly impulsive odd behavior I did the best I could to distract her. I could never get away with this now, but remember, we had been dating roughly two months at the time, I quickly turned her so she was facing me...and I told her I loved her...and began to kiss her neck. One thing usually leads to another in these circumstances, and she became unsatisfied with me simply gently kissing her neck. She turns her head so she is face-to-face with me, puckers her lips, those very same lips which are surely crawling with millions of little fecal bacteria, and leans towards me in hopes of exchanging the traditional mouth kiss with me.........
And that's where this story ends. :)
One of the benefits of remaining anonymous on the internet is that the story I've shared with you can never be used by any of you enterprising cyber-folks to extort me. God help me is she ever finds out.
So, what's the worst thing some of you have done to your significant other without ever telling them?
The diligent partner that she is, she spent the evening on the couch with me so I could indulge myself in one my true passions-Sooner football. As we were laying there on the couch, in the classic spooning position, the natural course of events unfolded. Having no interest in football, and being an Aggie, she fell asleep somewhere around halftime I believe. This is when things begin to get interesting...
I like to eat. I eat a lot. I couldn't tell you what I had to eat that day to save my life. It could have very easily been four bowls of chili, because that's not unusual for me, but I don't really remember. Whatever it was, it was digested all too easily. Multiple loose stools is what I'm getting at here. Not quite diarhhea, more like pancake batter. Pancake batter with bits of crunchy peanut butter. It was late in the day though and if I remember correctly my physiologic impairment was behind me. (ooh, a pun!) Any of us who have experienced these sort of dietary out-of-body expereiences, which is all of us, don't lie, knows that sometimes during the urgency of the day things are missed. No matter how thoroughly and frequently you wipe, its inevitable that microscopic bits of pancake batter are going to cling to the spincter. It can't be helped. It's one of the unalterable laws of nature. I don't know, and I don't want to know what it is in the chemical framework of fecal particles that causes the skin around the sphincter to itch unmercilessly when not thoroughly wiped away, but it ain't pretty when it happens.
It must have been in the third quarter sometime. The game was really starting to get interesting. There she was sound asleep in front of me and it started to happen. Something whipped those little straggler poo particles into a frenzy because I started to itch back there something fierce. Don't judge me-you only have a few rational choices in a situation like this. You either A) ignore it and hope for the best B) Toss your new lover off of you and announce that you have to go the bathroom to scratch your ***, or C) Make the most of what God gave you in terms of a scratching utility and take care of the matter. Being a man of action, I chose C, sending my sinewy man fingers into the nether-regions to placate the rascally poo-articles. I'd like to say I only had to do this once. I'd be lying if I said that.
This would be a faily innocuous story if it ended there, unfortunately it doesn't. The excitement of the game increased. Not having to attend to any other toilet-related functions, I layed there behind the Aggie woman contently as she still slept. I'm not sure what it was, perhaps I hooped or hollered at something that happened in the game, or perhaps it was just time, but she wakes up...
Hopefully most of you are not too old are too prude to know the know the physical passion that manifests itself in a new relationship. I'll put it to you bluntly, I'm generally a pretty horny wanker. Lucky for me, and because I know she'll never read this, I can confidently share with you that so is she. Now I will take the chance to remind you that we were still in the classic spooning position. My left arm, to which my left hand, to which the offending and contaminated poo-article fingers are attached was wrapped around her. Now that she was awake, she decided to do something she's never done before. I swear to the little baby Jesus she had never done this before. I don't know what compelled her to do it, and before I could fully comprehend what was happening she had grabbed my left hand and put and placed my left index and ring fingers and her mouth...and began sucking on them.
Don't judge me.
A full quarter of the game had probably elapsed since the time I extinguished the itchy-fire that had been blazing on my backside. All of you remember that this was a very close, exciting, nail-biting (ok, bad choice of words) game. With the passage of time and during the excitement of the game I had honestly temporarily forgotten that I had used the fingers that were now in my girlfriend's mouth to violate myself. Needless to say, only a few seconds had passed when I recoiled in disgust at what she was doing. Not wanting to own up to the terrible thing I had done to myself-and to her- and wanting to deflect attention from seemingly impulsive odd behavior I did the best I could to distract her. I could never get away with this now, but remember, we had been dating roughly two months at the time, I quickly turned her so she was facing me...and I told her I loved her...and began to kiss her neck. One thing usually leads to another in these circumstances, and she became unsatisfied with me simply gently kissing her neck. She turns her head so she is face-to-face with me, puckers her lips, those very same lips which are surely crawling with millions of little fecal bacteria, and leans towards me in hopes of exchanging the traditional mouth kiss with me.........
And that's where this story ends. :)
One of the benefits of remaining anonymous on the internet is that the story I've shared with you can never be used by any of you enterprising cyber-folks to extort me. God help me is she ever finds out.
So, what's the worst thing some of you have done to your significant other without ever telling them?