Friday, April 29, 2005

Too much masturbation?

Something went horribly wrong tonight.

Not that I need an excuse, but in honor of my birthday, I felt a little good loving was in order. No, that’s not semantically true. “Little” isn’t possible, because of course I’m hung like an elephant. Shut up. You don’t know.

So when Jazzy and I got home I decided to crank it up. Soft muzak, blinds drawn, me in all my stunning glory. No need to wait until the sun goes down, Big Momma. Slide on over here.

I’m working my magic, sprinkling a little pixie dust where pixie dust likes to be sprinkled, and when I go in to make my move…I realize something.

Big Jay is still sleeping.

What the fuck…

I looked down at my crotch and sure enough, a total teepee absence.

“Why’d you stop?”

Oh shit. I ignored the question and dove in for her ticklish spots to change the topic until I could straighten things out. Come on, fella, wake up. Daddy’s gonna get his groove on.

We kissed and did some shit you don’t need to know about. Jazz commented on how attentive I was being. Uh huh, I’m all about you, baby.

And yet, Big Jay snored.

What in the hell is going on? No stirrings, no tightness, no fucking response whatsoever. Why isn't this working? Big Jay's never slept through anything like this before. Hell, he's poked his head up at the mention of an exposed boob before. I slipped my hand down and patted my shit, just in case I was out of touch, but the terrifying truth just hung there like wet, flaccid laundry.

After 20 minutes, or maybe 5 but who’s counting?, I had to make a choice. Hence, my wife is glowing in her sleep while I sit here confused and a bit freaked out.

I can't believe it. I broke him.