Icepick presents: "the great burning" - a lesson i

Icepick

Rookie
Friends, comrades, fellow posters, how have you been? I've been gone far too long. I didn't mean to neglect you all, but something wonderful has happened. Seeing a sad trend in my life, I decided to mature up, and quit looking for a place to hang my underwear, and instead opted to find a home to hang my hat.

I met Sandra at my local Chapters, I was picking up the fifth book from the epic "A song of ice and fire" series, "Dance with dragons", you plebeians may know it as "Game of thrones in word form." She was petite, with gorgeous raven hair down to her waist. Her physical charm accented by the faintest of freckles, and a shy nervous smile. A true beauty to behold. I found myself in a rare position, I was apprehensive about striking up conversation. A creature so splendid surely could not be wooed by the casual line. I grit my teeth, straining myself to think of something witty and clever, but as fate would have it it was needless, for she approached me.

She asked if I was familiar with the series, she needed the fourth book, for a gift, to her sickly niece who would unfortunately be spending this holiday season in a hospital room. I sympathized like any true gentleman would, and guided her to that which she sought. She snatched up the book and turned on her heel, was she really going to leave so soon? Could fate be teasing me? I wanted to call out, ask for her name at least, but the words caught in my throat, like a child trying to shit, all I could do was grunt. Tis not fair, the words screamed in my head. When I finally meet a woman worth my charm, my charm leaves me?

She was gone, all that lingered was the smell of her perfume, as subtle and perfect as she was, and the fantasy of what could have been. Never has a heart felt so dark and empty in a room blaring christmas cheer. Defeated, I drag my feet to the cashier and complete my purchase, and make my way next door to the coffee shop, hoping some over priced latte will ease the pain of this emotional wound.

I place my order and shuffle down the line, cash in hand. it may have been -36 outside, but compared to my soul, that was a tropical sunny day. I look outside at the sleet, watched as it assaulted commuters, but then I heard that voice. That beautiful angelic voice! It was but for a minute I heard it, but it will be forever imprinted upon my conscious. I turn, hoping that it was not a figment of my imagination, and lone behold, there she was!. I decide action must be taken, I pay for my drink, and inform the barista I will be paying for hers. What in gods fucking name did she order that's $16 fucking dollars? But currency is cold and uncaring, and her smile warm and inviting. I take my seat and watch as she arrives at the same barista. He points over to me, she glances, and smiles. God that smile, it's as if crack and chocolate came together, the high I feel is inexplainable.

She saunters over to me, with the grace of a ballerina and a gymnast, moving together in the perfect floor routine. I offer her a seat, and joy of joy she accepts. In what feels like 5 minutes, 2 hours have elapsed. I learn she is currently in university for civil engineering, She's back home for the holidays, we share so many interests that I'm sure this must be a cruel joke, things seem to perfect. Paranoia hits me like a heavyweight boxer, the conversation slows, I'm blowing it I think to myself, what has happened to me? I can lie my ass off to impress any female, so why is it when I try to tell the truth I become a stammering imbecile? Again however, she saves the day, inquiring about the game of thrones series, and admitting there was too much to take in for her, I encourage her to give it another try, mentioning that I have the DVD's and she's welcome to them should she be honest about trying it out a second time. She declines, but counter proposes we could watch them together.

So to recap, she is gorgeous, smart, sweet, and willing to take the initiative, being foreign to the feeling, I assume this is love.

Fast forward to the day of our first date, the weather has turned to shit, Toronto is covered in ice, and it's surrounding areas aren't much better off. She calls me, discussing the weather and how horrid it is. I feel nervous, could this be an excuse for her to back out? No my friends, she instead suggests rather than going out, we could get delivery and watch my beloved series at her place. After a bit of encouragement from liquor, things begin to heat up. Half naked and contorted, we stumble our way to the bedroom, crashing atop her bed. As the pantaloons make their exit, she mentions how drunk she feels, and without thought I stop. "everything alright?" she asks, in that angelic voice of hers. I suggest we wait, I'd rather my first with her not be a drunken experience.

My dick, my subconscious, they scream at me. "What are you doing you fool, you're in" "Stick me in her ass or I'll never rise again!" they shout. With what I want so close, I can not fathom why I refuse to reach out and take it. My internal struggle has almost made me forget where I was, I look down to see a single tear on her cheek. She tells me I'm the sweetest man she's ever met. First time I've ever been accused of that, but I roll with it. We embrace and fall asleep to the sound of the howling wind beating on the windows.

We awake and determin we need breakfast to cure the hangover, she takes my arm and cuddles up to me as we walk into the diner, and I stare every man down with a look that says "I will fucking rip a hole in your throat and fist fuck it until you die if you so much as glance at her again" With breakfast completed, we part ways, she's off to see her niece, and I'm off to jerk myself furious until I pass out. My after noon nap is spoiled by my phone, half asleep I pick it up, only to hear that same angelic voice, as if I had just had 2 kilos of speed shoved up my nose, I'm instantly awake. She asks if I have plans, I answer no, apparently we're to go skating in Ottawa, across the frozen river as so many couples can be seen doing so.

I'm not a skater, I'm not graceful either, both are facts I am upfront about, but she does not care. We have a few good laughs at the many, many falls I endure, but overall, a good evening. We make our way back to my place, and after a glass of wine (fuck ya bitches, I planned ahead) she asks how I found my first skating experience. I point out the bruises up and down my legs, and inform her they're up my thighs as well. She goes into full on nurse mode, and taking some of my extra strength muscle cream, rubs my aches away. Between the wine and the massage, I'm in the mood, and clearly she is to. clothes make a hasty exit, and she's giving me one hell of a lap dance, grinding herself up and down my legs, digging her femininity into my skin. I carry her to the bedroom, I lay her down, I wrap myself up (Kids, always wear a condom, especially if she says she's on the pill, trust me) and just before I make my way in, she abruptly tells me to stop. I look at her puzzled
"whatever it was you were doing, it hurts"
"I haven't even started"
"well what the uhghvhvsdfffffuuuuucccckkk my vag is on fire what the fuck!"

I look at her with the same expression a deer gives an oncoming car on the highway. She begins thrashing, at me, the bed, anything within reach she begins to kick and unfortunately my penis was in the way. Doubled over in pain and shock, I look up at her, still on the bed, she's no longer pronouncing words so much as speaking in tongues. She's full on yelling, and the neighbors are beating on the walls. This only seems to amp up her volume, assuming my love has been possessed by a demon I try to reason with the new entity

"what's wrong"
"MY FUCKING CUNT IS BURNING ASSHOLE"
she pulls on her skirt, and throws her bra and blouse back on, and makes for a hasty retreat out my door and down the hallways. I've managed to secure a bedsheet around my waist and give chase, until once outside the door, I realize just about everyone on this floor is poking their head out of their doorways, and they just witnessed a half naked woman screaming and running away, being chased by a 3/4 naked man. I slink back to my apartment and lock the door, I sit down on the couch and nearly have a little cry, and I may well have if not for a knock at the door.

My angel, she has come back to me!

or not, it was a man of the law, and he did not look impressed. It was at this point I realized I should probably have put pants on, but I'm beyond caring now. He informs me there was a call made regarding a domestic, and I explain the details, and my assumption that her exposed genitalia may have come into contact with my muscle cream. I've pretty much seen every face a man of the law has to offer, but this was new. He was in hysterics laughing at me, there I stood, ashamed, defeated, and naked if not for a bedsheet, being laughed at by a man in uniform, my humiliation was complete. He states he will try and contact the lady in question to make sure the story adds up, and with that he left.

4 days have passed, and she never replied to the text message I sent asking if she was ok, I feel heartbroken, but at least I have learned a valuable lesson. Sexy time, and muscle cream time can never coexist, ever.
 
Love hurts. In many ways.

Chili nuts are a bad snack if you're intending to fondle yourself or others afterwards. Just putting it out there.

and remember to wash your hands anyways. Kill those germs.
 
Have you ever thought about writing to those penthouse magazines with amusing stories?
 

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