Bleeding love


Thanks Brenna for sending in this – frankly horrifying – story:

“About ten years ago, I was on my third date with this guy and we ended up back at his apartment. We had seen a movie together (“Ray,” I think it was) and he had just barely touched my hand as we were leaving the theatre. In his apartment, we sat on his Chesterfield and he started kissing me very passionately. After a few minutes, he stopped and said, ‘I’m very sorry, but I’ve made a mess of you.’

As if that little announcement wasn’t horrifying enough, it turns out that he really HAD: he had attained a fierce nosebleed at some point during the kiss, which was smeared all over his lower face. As I rushed to the loo to clean myself up, he was saying, ‘It’s been a very long time for me, and I got over-stimulated.’

The date ended very soon after that.”

Thanks Brenna! And my very deepest sympathies to you.

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One thought on “Bleeding love”

  1. Reminds me of a similar horror story from my recent history, too gruesome to recant , let us just say my sofa still hasn’t fully recovered *shudder*

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