Desperate to Escape the Booty Call

I must confess to reading Crissy's Page. Crissy, for those who aren't already secret fans like me, is a librarian. A foul-mouthed, blunt to the point of embarrassment, sex-talking librarian. She's like the crazy cousin I never had. Actually, she's better than the crazy cousins I actually have.

Anyway, Crissy also blogs at Toy With Me, a site dedicated to *ahem* toys and sex. I'm a contentedly married and not-sexually-dead-yet mama, so I appreciate Crissy's point of view (also contentedly married and embracing of her sexuality). Perhaps it's this very reason that Crissy is so confused about the concept of "friends with benefits" and "booty call." (Warning to sensitive readers, for language and content.)

I wasn't always the good little churchgoing wifey that I am now.

In fact, I once had an ongoing booty call who just wouldn't go away, no matter how many hints I dropped or how many times I tried to dissolve the situation. This guy just didn't catch on. Dense? Maybe. Hooked on that good, good stuff he was getting? Probably.

In the end, I had to resort to drastic measures to make sure we never slept together again...

I married him!*


Have you ever *gasp* had a booty call or one night stand? Did anyone else out there marry a booty call, or am I the only one?

*It's HUMOR, kids... Let's not start the rumor that Mr. Wright and I aren't having the sex, okay?


Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/julishannon/2942158051/