Accidentally on Purpose
So one night I had invited a fuck buddy to come by for a night of kinky audulterism. I thought I was cool with all forms of sex till I met this chick. First she tried to finger my ass while blowing me. Not cool ladies. I felt a finger go from fondling balls to my no no spot. After I removed my finger nails from the ceiling and climbed down; she explained to me that she had banged every guy she had been with. And I don’t mean bang in the good way. I told her not this horse. Line one found.
During another night of sexual shenanigans, she asked me to cut her with a dinner knife. As well as she could ask through a ball gage while she was tied up in the entry way. I thought that would look great; the cops come in, see me with a dinner knife, woman tied up, death by thousand cuts, and boom head shot. Thoughts of me being gunned down wearing nothing but a condom and holding a magic wand. Not to mention the sight of blood makes me light headed and completely derected. Line two discovered.
So during one nights of sexcapades, I coundn’t recall which, we were having some drinks before the roll playing began. She would come in, bringing her bag of what ever hotness she would wear that night, we would catch up, have a few drinks, she would go change in the bed room, I would set up that nights fun, and it was on. Well during one of these drinking and catching up chats we had a little bit more then usual to drink. I have a bar in my apartment and I was behind it pouring champagne far to fast. We were talking, joking, having a good time, lets face it ladies I’m charming. I go to my fridge, get the third bottle of champagne, pull off the foil, wire, aim and fire.
Being the son of a chef and restaurant owner I am normally one with the cork, but I try to refrain from firing one off the my apartment. You see, I’m a half assed Buddhist, and have a nice Buddha shrine in my living room. Buddha is cool with everything except being shot in the face with a cork and shattered on the floor. I call myself a half assed Buddhist because I love Karma, but I treat my body like an amusement park not a temple; hence half assed.
So there I am in my kitchen, hotness at the bar, with a bottle in my hand and off goes the cork. Trying to empress her, I figure I will shoot the cork down my apartment and pour her a glass. In my hast I didn’t aim properly and the cork hits the wall across the room. I have both my hands on the bottle when I realize that the cork has ricochet off the wall and is coming straight for my eye at the speed of sound. I wondered what the trip to the hospital would be like. Yes doctor I shot myself, but in my emotional throws, my suicide was foiled because instead of a gun I used a bottle of bubbly. How many times have I laughed at the warning labels on champagne bottles and the funny pictures of cartoons hitting themselves with a cork. Is it possible to have sex with a cork in my eye? I figured she would be a little turned off.
So there I was, the “Master” trying to pour a glass of champagne for the “Slave” and the dip shit “Master” is going to blind himself with a cork. Premature corkulation. Why couldn’t my parents have said, “Be careful with the bottle of champagne you’ll shoot your eye out.” I was great with the BB gun. The cork is getting closer to my face and now she is realizing that I’m about to be Kennidied. Forget the magic bullet look at this cork. Out of the corner of my eye I see her cover her mouth getting ready to laugh, scream, sympathize, how ever this turns out.
How will it turn out? Buy my book. Hope you enjoyed the rough draft.