Bondage Girl: My 7th Date

Right when I thought I'd put away my midget sized condoms, forget about that pipe dream of trying to find a healthy woman who I could infect with my demon seed, and swear off all women except for the ones named "Lexus", "Alize", and "Bambi", a woman from my past comes into the picture and rocks my feeble world. See, more than a decade ago I was madly in love with this woman named Carmen, who I distinctly remember having an ass that men should be forced to pray to, thighs that could suffocate men to the most pleasurable of deaths, tits so mind altering that they could force me to like the proverbial wackness of Jim Jones, and on top of that she is the only woman on record who claimed she enjoyed my penis.(Oh yeah, she was smart, classy, funny, and loved Hip Hop.) She was a "keeper" in every sense of the word, but since I can fuck up a free lunch and a free blowjob from a toothless whore on payday, I sabotaged that relationship like I had done every other one in my shameful dating history. After I was emotionally distant, inconsiderate, and a plethora of other deplorable adjectives breaking down your classic asshole boyfriend, she still stuck around. That was until I did something absolutely horrible.

You see, to spice up our relationship sometimes we would agree to meet up at a certain club at a specific time, pretend we were strangers, and role play until I was slipping off her Lane Bryants and trying my best to reach her small intestines. Well, her last straw was when we had planned to rendezvous at a club one night, act like we were strangers once again, then go back to the crib to fuck like two test bunnies. Problem was I got there before her and saw a few of my friends and had a few too many drinks, got fucked up, and forgot that she was even in the equation. To make matters worse I had left the bar with my buddies to go bar hopping. Not only did I stand her up and not go through with our "relationship ritual" as planned, I left her stranded because little did I know that she had wanted to become intimately acquainted with the backseat of my hooptie. Our relationship pretty much died that night, and soon after we broke up like The Beatles, and it seemed like my insensitivity and my wandering cock played the role of Yoko. I hadn't talked to her in years, that was until I found her on myspace!!

Date #7: Bondage Girl: I know, myspace has gotten the bad rap of being a haven for pedophiles and sexual deviants across the globe, I understand that. It's also a place where your musical sensibilities are constantly insulted by the plethora of crappy bands you are subjected to, I'm pretty sure many of you agree with me there. But if you are a chubby pervert like myself, a dude who has offered women free drinks if they said something dirty in my ear so I could masturbate to it later, myspace is my mecca in terms of trolling for new ass and finding ex-girlfriends. That's how I found Carmen, I dropped her are very phony "Hey, is this who I think it is" message, and hoped that she responded with something kinder than "You puny dick motherfucker!!" Not only did she respond, she was so enthusiastic about reconnecting that she immediately suggested that we hook up for a couple of drinks. I'm paranoid by nature, and it seemed way too easy, did she have a secret plan to jump me with her lesbian lover, a lover that only existed because I turned her off to men because of my deplorable actions?? I was horny, so my genitalia had the upper hand over my paranoia, so I met her for drinks.

Things went well, she told me about her life, her accomplishments, but I seriously couldn't tell you what they were because her body had matured with time like a fine wine, a vintage automobile, or Michael Jordan's jump shot. I found it amazing that she didn't bring up some of the horrible things that I did to her, I wasn't going to bring it up, I could actually see myself getting some ass like watching a gay donkey show and I wasn't going to fuck that up. So we get to her house, get on the couch, and continue to do this irritating thing called "talking" that is cutting into my penetration time. Then she asks me, "How do you feel about being tied up??" I said, "I guess I don't have a problem with it, as long as you don't take off with my wallet, or decide that you want to use a strap-on on me without my consent." She said, "No, I mean like REALLY tied up, hardcore!!" I had no idea what this loony chick was talking about, I'm a standard guy when it comes to sex, I just wanted to pump a few times and take a nervous clinic visit in 6 months.

That's when she broke out these huge photo albums of her being tied up extremely hard, to the point that the ropes were breaking her skin, and many of them were of her with a gag in her mouth with tears flowing down her face. I wanted to be shocked but I wasn't, I actually felt sexually inadequate. I mean, if this chick is into some freaky shit like this, she has probably had more foreign objects rammed inside her than a porn star of a world tour, how big are her yawns going to be as my chubby ass is fucking her, yelling "Yeah baby, I bet you've never been fucked by a chubby writer who thinks Hip Hop is dead, Huh?? You like that???" I probably could have gotten some ass if I had a better poker face, I'm sure she read the worry on my face and took that as me judging her lifestyle, so she gave me the classic "I have to get up in the morning..aka We won't be swapping fluids tonight asshole" spiel. I thought I had royally fucked up again, that was until I noticed that she wanted to add me as a myspace friend today, lets hope when we get together again she doesn't try to put my nuts in a hangman's noose.