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A full bladder a la Ben Wa…

Bladder blog – Part Two Though I was hopeful Fran might reconsider deforming her body for the sake of an orgasm, I knew when she called me at 6:20 a.m. to tell me she had just downed three “Christian Grey Red Room of Pain” smoothies and had decided not to pee until midnight, that the day might become slightly problematic.  She seemed to make it through the morning reasonably well ,despite back-to-back meetings with several important clients, but by the time lunch rolled around, her voice HAD become a little urgent.  Of course it didn’t help that Fran had decided to heighten her pleasure by inserting a shiny new pair of Ben wa balls that her dear friend, Bitsy, had been so kind to give her for her birthday—apparently both Fran and Bitsy are good Christian-respecting women, every O, a sacred experience and every new toy, a Christmas morning relived. (As a side note, it is interesting to observe that despite being mission-style devotees throughout their lives, Bitsy even  suffering from frigidity from time to time, both girls, since devouring THE Trilogy, have “opened” themselves to new positions to put it mildly….) Come to find out, despite a lower abdomen that was protruding like a soft ball, Fran had decided to keep her scheduled lunch with some prominent bankers thinking she would be able to disguise the situation.  However, as we all know by now, Fran’s reasoning skills become a little skewed the deeper she falls into her Christian-trances and the bankers unfortunately were more than aware that, at a minimum, her walk was severely affected by the time lunch was over. The sideways lunge that she used when she rose to leave the restaurant caught the eye of many and it didn’t help that she threw out a slight moan with every step.  They had thought it slightly odd that Fran skipped the buffet and just ordered five iced teas for lunch, but by the time the meal was over and she began rolling her hips around in her chair while simultaneously rolling her eyes into the back of her head, they knew something was askew.By the time I saw her in our the school carline, she had taken to hopping up and down in her mini van. Hers was the only one rocking in the whole parking lot so it became quite obvious, quite quickly that we may have an emergency on our hands. The most alarming part came, however, when I noticed Fran had the book itself dangling from her rear-view mirror with clothes pins holding the pages back. If she’s not careful, she’s going to cause an amendment of the town’s driving ordinances…..driving your mini van, while reading Fifty Shades and sporting a full bladder a la Ben wa, no less has to classify as public endangerment. I guess the policeman who pulled Fran over was in agreement. I think he was probably thinking along the lines of OxyContin, but when Fran got out of her mini van bent over with her legs crossed so tightly, her veins were popping, and cupping her groin, the policeman wasn’t really sure what he’d encountered….He couldn’t really ticket her for reading as he couldn’t prove anything, but I guess Fran had purposefully picked a road that was in the process of being resurfaced with the hope this might intensify the Ben wa pleasure, all of which had created quite a scene on the road. I don’t know whether it was the balls, the road, or the full bladder, but I guess the big O finally came because Fran was apparently in such a state of delirium, she didn’t hear the policeman’s siren he was forced to deploy as a result of her ear-piercing climax. She got out of her mini van a little stiff to say the least, drenched in perspiration but smiling big no less. Disarmed by this scene, the poor policeman knew he had no choice but to arrest her as had he let her go and this freak of a mother had reentered the city streets, his license could have easily been revoked. Fortunately for Fran, she had quickly texted Bitsy to tell her about her traffic violation and Bitsy, being the loyal and understanding orgasm-loving mom that she is, jumped in her mini van and sped off to come to her sex-starved friend’s rescue.  Unfortunately for Fran, Bitsy did not arrive on the scene until AFTER the poor policeman had reached for his handcuffs.  When Fran saw those shiny, love-making tools emerge from his pocket, it was like watching a killer doberman spot a porterhouse steak. Fran began salivating, frothing at the mouth.  “CHRISTIAN MY CHRISTIAN,” she began chanting, “TAKE ME NOW”!  Despite Bitsy’s frantic speed, she was unable to stop this lurid scene from unfolding, and by the time her mini van screeched to a stop, Fran was on the ground, begging this poor man to handcuff her right hand to her right foot and her left hand to her left foot.  To top it off, she had a $100 bill clenched in her teeth, hoping to bribe him if wouldn’t willingly comply.  When Bitsy saw this, she was aghast!  She well knew they had both suffered some phyiscal indignities (all self-induced I might add) since starting the book, but getting the law involved?  This was a little edgy, even for them.Bitsy approached the officer warily, and swiftly leaned down to pull her friend out of the cultish appearing yogic pose she had assumed on a public thoroughfare.  As Fran had concluded the officer wasn’t quite understanding the extent of her physical need, she had begun rolling back and forth, grasping each ankle with her legs splayed, hoping he would get a glimpse of the point of insertion.  Bitsy pulled with all her might until Fran wearily gave up. Depsite this man’s beer gut, bald head, and missing teeth, all Fran could see in her deluded state were visions of Christian Grey in the flesh, the thick wavy hair with copper highlights, the piercing grey eyes and pants hanging sensually from the hips. (In reality, however, this poor man’s uniform pants were hiked up an entire foot above his jiggly mammouth belly which tells you just how far gone she was…)  When Bitsy finally resorted to telling the officer about some fabricated, servere mental problems her friend was experiencing, he let them both go, on the promise Bitsy would drive and probably relieved as hell to get this middle-aged, panting, purple-skinned woman away from him.As Bitsy shoved Fran in the car to take her home, poor Fran’s hubby was just arriving home himself.  He knew from her instruction that morning, the night may turn out to be a long one, but I don’t think even he could have predicted his wife’s current state.More to follow…..laters

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Posted by on June 5, 2012 in Fifty shades of grey

 

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