She punched me right in the mouth, followed by an uppercut to the jaw and a kick in the balls. It was at that moment that I realized I had fallen in love.
I was young and naive and never saw it coming. A judo chop to the back of my neck. My sexual appetite was unleashed and I became obsessed with her. Everything she did intensified my desire. When she tied me to a chair and whipped my thighs, I asked her to marry me between lashes.
She was constantly showering me with affection in the shower. I must confess that flushing my eyes with WD-40 really turned me on. When she would waterboard me in the tub, I thought I would burst with lust. For our first anniversary, she inserted bamboo shoots under my fingernails and I knew I had met my soulmate.
She understood that love required consistent reinforcement, thus always surprising me with tokens of passion. Like the time she made me go through the whole day with melted Crisco in my crotch. Or flaunting her sumptuous breasts in my face after feeding me saltpeter for breakfast. Or insisting on going naked to dinner parties. Or making me wear a dress to work.
It was vital to perpetuate the perception that she had married a stud, thus the commissioning of Ralph Lauren to design tailor-made iron jockey shorts that sort-of fit me like a glove. When we would make love, she would pour ice water on my genitals immediately prior to my imminent orgasm.
We celebrated our twentieth anniversary with a ferocious night of love- making. She planned it to perfection by forcing me, at gunpoint, to assume a position wherein my arms and legs were tied to the bedpost. She broke my back and giggled for hours.
She just returned from shopping at Home Depot, having purchased a generator, electrical wires, a bucket and a sponge. Is it any wonder that I love her so?