[Lloyd B]

I'm not sure of the actual number but the most recent was this past summer. There's a park nearby and we went there to have a picnic and watch a game that my nephew was playing in. Since my wife doesn't like soccer, she was sucking down a lot of booze and eventually had to go to the bathroom so she left to find a Port-a-Potty.

She was gone for quite awhile but I assumed there was a long line outside the crapper since the park was packed. It turns out that my wife was standing in line next to a handsome stranger who struck up a conversation with her. He could tell that she was half in the bag and was eyeballing her up and down. Eventually they both get to the front of the line and go in next to each other. However, instead of draining his lizard, the stranger crawls up on top of the toilet to peek out the vent into the unit next door. When my wife pulled town her shorts to tinkle, he sees the most perfectly shaped buns he’s ever laid eyes on.

When they both come back out, she thanked him for keeping him company and starts to head back to our family. He has other ideas and asks if he can buy her a hot dog at the concession stand. Still feeling the effects of the rum and Wild Turkey she has been drinking, she replies that she doesn’t want a little wiener but she’s definitely in the mood for a large Polish Sausage. He walks her over to the stand but instead of ordering, he takes her behind the refreshment stand and tells her that he’s got 9 ˝ inches of love for her in his pants. They start going at it hot and heavy, when all of a sudden he gets a wild idea. She was always reticent to take it in the backdoor but now she’s so bombed that she throws caution to the wind. So she pulls down her shorts, turns around and bends over and orders the man to drill her in the butt. He whips out a massive boner but knows that it’s going to hurt like hell unless he finds something to lube his giant sausage with. Looking around, he spots a packet of mustard on the ground that someone else had left. He opens it, squirts it on his rigid tool and go to town on my wife.

Soon the spicy mustard begins to burn her delicate backdoor. She starts howling and moaning from the pain, screaming that her butt is on fire. He mistakenly assumes she’s getting off on it and kept driving it home until finally, with a grunt, he unleashed an enormous load all the way deep inside of her keister. No sooner was he spent than he hiked up his drawers, said “Thanks for the sweet action, babe” and made his way off into the night.

My wife slowly walked back to us, moving very gingerly from the discomfort. When I saw her, I assumed she’d been hitting the sauce again while she was away but as she gets closer I can see that her hair is disheveled, her makeup is smeared and she has a glazed look in her eyes. It took three days and a whole tube of balm to put out the fire on her back porch.