ROPES. APPARENTLY.

YEAH. I'M GOING OUT FOR A PACK OF CIGARETTES. I'LL SEE YOU IN A WEEK, BABY.

I ain't never been that big a' fan of bondage, you know. It seemed like a lot of schoolwork that needed to be done before recess. If I wanna hold somebody still, at 6'2" and 225 pounds well I'll just fucking HOLD THEM STILL. So yeah yeah, as dinner theater went I'd still prefer a little light comedy with my sausage.

Until this conversation:

Her: "I just...well I shouldn't even be telling you this but...well just the idea of getting tied up makes me fucking WET..."

Me: "ME TOO!!! I mean,uh, tying YOU up makes me wet. I mean HARD. HARD I mean, goddamn it."

Her: "Well.....which knots would you use on me?"

Yeah, this is where the cartoon wah wah wah music kicks in as I pathetically ignore it and try to come up with shit that makes me sound like I know what I'm doing.

"Baby, I lay that Grand Windsor on you, and your pussy won't know what hit it."

And miracle of miracles it WORKED. Except who the fuck knew what a Grand Windsor was?

Well this site was good for that. Sort of. Sort of enough to get me in, get her tied down, and get me fucking before it had been realized: a Grand Windsor is a fucking tie for cravats.

Perfect.