One day I came across an article about the different ways one can shave their pubic hair. Intrigued and bored I decided to try “The Martini Glass.” I’m not exactly the most artistic person, in-fact I’m awful but I tried my best. I was proud that it at least resembled a martini glass but it was far from perfect. I kept trying to even if out but I just kept making things worse. Eventually I forgot about my short-lived career as a pubic hair stylist and went about my day. That night I unexpectedly ran into my friend with benefits. I completely forgot about the deformed martini glass until he took off my underwear. Too late to do anything about it I decided to own it and play it off as a joke. He stared at it for a few seconds then laughed. I’m still unsure if he was laughing with me or at me.
I met this girl on an online dating site. She was witty and cute. Problem was she lived 96 miles away from me. After a couple weeks of chatting and Skype dates, I decided to jump on a bus and take her out on a little weekend date. She was waiting for me at my hotel bar. I casually sat next to her and ordered a vodka martini. We smiled at each other. You could slice the sexual tension with a butter knife. Surprisingly, we made it out to dinner and drinks. Stumbling back to the hotel, I came to the realization that we were either gonna have sloppy or incredible drunken sex. I swiped my room key, and pushed her onto the kingsize bed. She gave me a submissively seductive smile. Perfect, I thought to myself because she was petite and I couldn’t wait to turn her inside out. I don’t remember all the details, but what is crystal clear in my mind is how the sex session finished. She was on her back moaning increasingly louder and when she was about to climax, she screamed “Slap Me!!”. She had just pronounced the magic words. I winded up, and slapped her across the face. I was like the Red Sea had parted and I could see the promise land, the little dirty expression on her face aka her O face. She loved it. I got such a rush from dominating her. I have control issue. Maybe she felt comfortable going there with me because she knew this was just a weekend affair. Or she felt safe in my hands because I always balance my rough touch with a soft caress – that’s key.