by Philip Mason
Synopsis: A small misunderstanding can have a big impact on a honeymoon.
Synopsis: A small misunderstanding can have a big impact on a honeymoon.
"I did it," I said. "I cut it off." I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at my wife, Anna. She was lying in the bed, reading one of her women's magazines and didn't look up. I could tell she was really into the piece she was reading - it was probably about making gingerbread houses.
"Honey, that's wonderful!" she said as she turned the page. "I'm almost done, here..."
I continued to stand in the doorway as the light of the bathroom behind me was partially blocked by my silhouette. The only other light in the room was Anna's little reading lamp creating a small glow in our cozy hotel room. We were both still naked, having just made love less than twenty minutes ago.
Anna finally set down her magazine, turned off her lamp, and looked up. "Wait... you said you cut it all off." She noticed that my long hair was still flowing like the proud locks of virility they were. They were unharmed, still strong, and teeming with life. "What did you..." She reached for the bedside light and flipped it on. Then she screamed. It was a loud, piercing, bloodcurdling scream.
There, in the glow of the yellowish light, I stood naked before my wife - my hair fluttering in the light wind of the room's air conditioning. In my right hand I held a large pair of scissors. In my left hand I held my blood-soaked penis and testicles. Anna's dismayed eyes locked onto the large, gaping, bloody mess between my legs. Blood covered my legs from thigh to toe, and had by now formed a puddle under my feet. I smiled at Anna and shrugged a polite "who, me?" kind of a shrug.
Before our wedding, Anna and I had reached an agreement that I could keep my long hair for the ceremony if I cut it off right after the wedding.
I could tell by the look in Anna's horrified and hysterical eyes that this was not how she had planned our honeymoon would go. She didn't have to say it, not that she could. She seemed to be shocked beyond the capability to speak. I could see it in her face. I really fucked up this time. I stood there for another minute, holding my messily removed genitals, and a bloody pair of huge scissors, before I passed out on the blood-stained floor. As I began to drift into blood-loss induced unconsciousness I remember being so embarrassed that I hoped I would never wake up. Oh, the things we do for love.
"Honey, that's wonderful!" she said as she turned the page. "I'm almost done, here..."
I continued to stand in the doorway as the light of the bathroom behind me was partially blocked by my silhouette. The only other light in the room was Anna's little reading lamp creating a small glow in our cozy hotel room. We were both still naked, having just made love less than twenty minutes ago.
Anna finally set down her magazine, turned off her lamp, and looked up. "Wait... you said you cut it all off." She noticed that my long hair was still flowing like the proud locks of virility they were. They were unharmed, still strong, and teeming with life. "What did you..." She reached for the bedside light and flipped it on. Then she screamed. It was a loud, piercing, bloodcurdling scream.
There, in the glow of the yellowish light, I stood naked before my wife - my hair fluttering in the light wind of the room's air conditioning. In my right hand I held a large pair of scissors. In my left hand I held my blood-soaked penis and testicles. Anna's dismayed eyes locked onto the large, gaping, bloody mess between my legs. Blood covered my legs from thigh to toe, and had by now formed a puddle under my feet. I smiled at Anna and shrugged a polite "who, me?" kind of a shrug.
Before our wedding, Anna and I had reached an agreement that I could keep my long hair for the ceremony if I cut it off right after the wedding.
I could tell by the look in Anna's horrified and hysterical eyes that this was not how she had planned our honeymoon would go. She didn't have to say it, not that she could. She seemed to be shocked beyond the capability to speak. I could see it in her face. I really fucked up this time. I stood there for another minute, holding my messily removed genitals, and a bloody pair of huge scissors, before I passed out on the blood-stained floor. As I began to drift into blood-loss induced unconsciousness I remember being so embarrassed that I hoped I would never wake up. Oh, the things we do for love.
No comments:
Post a Comment