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I recently spent an evening with friends talking and telling some very interesting humorous stories and jokes of well, what else... sex! A joke that someone told that night reminded me of my story. After reading the joke you may wonder how on earth it triggered a memory... but you’ll soon see why.

The joke is called the "Cork of Fate".

One day in the locker room, Bob sees another man with a cork in his ass. Curious, he asks the man how it got there.“Well,” says the man, “I was walking along a beach when I tripped over a lamp. There was a puff of smoke and this great big blue guy in a turban came oozing out, saying, “I am a genie. I can grant you one wish.” And I said, “No shit!”

After hearing that, a certain memory came flooding back to me. What struck me as fascinating was that the people who we thought were very subdued, reserved and at times boring, were the ones with the most unforeseen stories. My story was voted the most shocking and definitely the most entertaining. Apparently, I would have been one of the people who you’d never think could have done what I’m about to recount. Ha!

Hang on to your seats ladies (this statement will soon seem ironic, you’ll see). I wouldn’t recommend this regardless of how stoned or drunk you may be. But here goes my short story…

For a brief period of time, during my so-called “mid-life” crisis, I had no sense or concept of limitation. I didn’t think of what I had been taught or the type of person I wanted to be, I just wanted to experience - probably because I had been deprived of that during my adolescent years and now was the time to enjoy what came my way. What came my way was a man who literally changed my life. I now refer to him as my catalyst for change, although my “Dr. G” would probably refer to him as my crucible.

He had a constant barrage of ideas and fantasies. When I was with him, the possibilities were endless and nothing was not within our realm of experimenting. Looking back, I think the people-pleaser in me was at the forefront. I allowed him to convince me it would be ‘fun’…the fact that I was tanked half the time I’m sure made his pitch that much more convincing. His reaction to what I would agree to became an addiction for me. But not all of it was bad. Some was fun and some I would never do again. Memories of stopping off in the middle of the night to make love in a field are wonderful memories…being pulled over by the police in the middle of a somewhat intimate moment, is not. The police officer asked me if I was looking for something…I told him I was having a hard time finding it…when he looked down, he smiled at me and said he totally agreed and sent us on our way. But that’s not the story.

His favorite hobby was taking and collecting photos of me…nude photos. He said it stimulated him and would lift his spirits (I’d imagine it lifted a few other things as well). I will admit that I hated the thought of it at first, so I couldn’t even say why I agreed to it. But as time went on, some of them were pretty damn good. So we continued and most of the time had fun with it…except for one particular evening. We had a romantic evening planned at a beautiful hotel, complete with champagne and caviar. As the evening wore on, the alcohol took effect and soon I began not caring about anything. In fact at one point for whatever strange and imperceptive reason, he thought it would be a brilliant idea if he took a photo of the champagne cork (with the vintage year showing of course).

I’ll give you about three seconds to guess as to where he wanted the cork placed….time’s up….any good guesses at the moment???

Now, I’ll put money on everything I own that most of you don’t know that your sphincter is capable of sucking like a Hoover vacuum cleaner when you least expect it. Yes, that’s right, as it turned out I squeezed my butt cheeks at the very moment he placed the cork near my rectum and abracadabra, I now had a full size champagne cork in my anal canal!! Most people actually have deep psychological correlations with opening and closing of their sphincter... apparently, I don’t.

My thoughts at that moment?... ”Um, what just happened?!” His thoughts at that moment?... ”Um, where the hell did the cork go?!” We were dumbfounded to say the least. I refused to have to be driven to Emergency and explain to some hot doctor on call, what just entered into my body and how. Therefore he had two choices; (1) he had to get the damn thing out of me or (2), he would have to die. It was pretty simple.

As it so happens, he didn’t die that night….

I’ll be honest I do occasionally enjoy anal sex. I take pleasure in the sensation of it, but it never necessitates having some foreign object getting lost in my anal canal. I don’t use ‘toys’ in there and I definitely didn’t go to ‘Tushy School’. Yes, it’s true…there is an actual school women can attend to learn the art of anal insertions and stimulation. Go figure…and they call it higher education (a little bit of an oxymoron, if you ask me).

I won’t go through the agonizing details of how it (the cork) came out or the length of time that was spent retrieving it. I will say this however…he never asked or attempted to take another photo of me again, he never asked or attempted to convince me to participate in some barbaric fantasy of his AND he never asked or attempted to buy another bottle of champagne ever again. It took me quite some time and this incident, to finally realize the control he held over me in our relationship.

It’s a common trait that controlling men suffer from very low self-esteem, yet hide it by a strong façade to weaker partners. Looking back now, I could see the pattern. He had a way of convincing me or anyone for that matter, that he was right. His charisma overpowered any rational thoughts in me. It wasn’t until that incident happened that my inner strength finally came to forefront. I finally had the willpower to say “NO” to him…in fact, I told him I no longer wanted to continue a relationship with him. It took a fundamental thwarting and humiliating event for me to have the valor and wisdom to see through what was a very controlling relationship. I believe in his eyes, if I was dependant on him enough, then I would never leave him.

On a lighter note,

Experimenting and having fun sexually should never be discouraged. But my personal recommendation however? If you want to avoid an extremely embarrassing trip to your nearest hospital emergency room, don’t EVER use objects near your rectum that has any remote possibility of getting lost inside you.

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Comments

Read what people are saying.

1

Isabelle (Author)

Posted on February 7, 2008, 1:29 pm

I don't believe it...not one word from anyone on this article??

2

Chloe

Posted on February 12, 2008, 3:46 pm

As regards comfort, which do you prefer? Natural cork, or the fake stuff??

3

Katarina_HD

Posted on February 12, 2008, 3:46 pm

Ya, I laughed too but now I'm thinking, didn't your ass hurt?

4

ConfusedTuna

Posted on February 12, 2008, 3:54 pm

Did you have to pay a corking fee? Just curious.

5

Isabelle (Author)

Posted on February 16, 2008, 7:35 pm

What a bunch of funny morons you all are...but I'll answer all of your questions because I am who I am, and well, that's all I need to say to clarify that point. Comfort?...Well, let's just say it wasn't a stroll in the park, but natural is always better. Did it hurt?...Only coming out. And lastly, it was a high 'end' restaurant...no corking fee was charged.

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