Dear Bill

Dear Bill,

Thought I’d drop you a line to let you know how things are with me. You may remember Jessica, that girl I was seeing? I think you met her when last you came down for the weekend. Well, the simple truth is, we’re not together anymore. It’s a bit hard to know where to begin. I think I told you that we were going through a rough patch. It always seems to happen; after about three months or so the great initial passion wears off and then you’re down to learning what it’s really all about.

Well, without boring you withall the gory details, part of the problem was sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, she did, loved it, in fact. It was sort of more complicated than that. Now look, I’m as broad minded as the next man and when she said we needed to spice things up a bit I was all for it. Anyway, she started buying these books and downloading stuff off the net. At first it was fun. I drew the line at the goatskin underpants but I didn’t really mind being tied up. I could quite get used to a bit of bondage, if I’m honest, although thirty-six hours is a little long for me.

No, things stared to go wrong when she introduced the whipped cream and strawberries. She put on about ten pounds in a week and I got so drained I swear my cheeks were hollow. Then she wanted to shave my nuts. I said OK, being a sport. When she produced this sodding great cutthroat razor, I wasn’t quite so keen. I tell you, one slip and I’d have been eligible for the Vienna Boys’ Choir! So there I was with the old wedding tackle as naked as a jaybird, apart from the Band-Aids, and she insists I put on this Superman outfit. I had to climb on top of the wardrobe and ‘swoop down on her.’ That was the plan at least. Cheap home-assembly junk isn’t all that strong. Needless to say, the whole bloody issue collapsed and I ended up on the floor in agony. I mean a joke’s a joke but splinters in the arse – that’s furniture!

After that it was Tantric Yoga or somesuch. How the hell you can keep the old man vertical with your foot behind your ear and every vertebra cracking is beyond me. I couldn’t stand up straight for a week – in either sense. It didn’t stop her, though. She must have supported our friendly neighbourhood sex shop almost single-handed. I did like the French Maid’s outfit and the Schoolgirl Uniform was a blast. It didn’t really have the desired effect, though. I really don’t look good in blue and the high heels – how do women walk in those things?

Next thing, she suggested a threesome. I was all for it, I can tell you; she had some very tasty friends. Anyway, it seems we got our wires crossed. She set up the video in the bedroom and there I was thinking whoopee when these two strange-looking blokes came in. I looked at her and she looked at me and the she sort of grinned and said something like ‘go to it, big boy!’ The next thing I know, one of these ‘Village People’ has dropped his leather togs and is flashing his weapon at me! I jumped straight out of the window. I mean, seriously, Bill, what would you do? The doctor said it was a just a severe sprain but I was on crutches for a few days anyway.

Eventually, I recovered enough to be mobile again and she suggested we should try anal sex. I can tell you, I was just a little bit wary by this time. I’d seen that thing that looked like an elephant’s dong with straps on in the sex shop and I had this funny feeling... She said we needed to explore our boundaries or something. I told her we were way beyond that and in the middle of the next county. All I really need say is we had some strong words and agreed it was probably best for us to part. Which we did, just as soon as I could get my sphincter to relax enough to pull that effing contraption out. It’s no bloody fun being pushed around the house like a wheelbarrow for six hours, I can tell you.

Now, Bill, I’m no prude but you have to draw the line somewhere. To cap it all, she reversed my car into the gatepost. Put a bloody great dent in it and ruined the paintwork. That did it for me and I finished with her on the spot. Anyway, the good news is I’ve got a new girlfriend. Better yet – she can’t drive!

Yours aye,

Steve.