It could only happen to me..

A man picked me up last night.

It was planned.

I went for (what was suppose to be..) a few drinks with a friend and said man picked me up.

I was hammered. He most certainly wasn't. Infact. He was stone cold sober.

He came back to mine.

We got in the mood.........

I rolled over to check the door was locked.

I rolled right off the bed.. knocked over the ironing bored which happened to have my morning coffee on it.

I am laying on the floor, next to my bed, half naked, covered in coffee.

Thoughts are running through my head.. I'm going to have to pretend I'm suppose to be here. So I start playing with the plug. Yes. Switching it on and off. At the same time as saying.. 'Sorry, but your going to have to lock the door now.. I can't quite reach it from here.'

And If that's not bad enough.. I manage to get back on the bed.. Back into the swing of things..

I have random hysterical fits of laughter.

However, being the genius that I am I'm thinking.. I'm going to have to cover my tracks here.

You know when you are really trying hard to to laugh? And every now and again you let out a little squeal? Or a snort? Or just some ridiculous noise that you have never ever made/heard before? That was me. In the middle of sex.

Something tells me he won't be back.