“Watch out for the. . .” I began just as she rammed her knees into the bedside table.

Vivian snarled at me.

“Do you want any help?” I asked, making sure to stay out of kicking range.

“No! You’ve done enough for one night!” she huffed, walking into a coat rack and knocking it to the floor.

“Are you sure?” I called out, knowing I should probably help her anyway. But she looked like some sort of sludge monster. And her snarling and growling was freaking me out. I figured if I had any sort of attachment to my appendages, I should stay the hell out of her way.

My poor dick had deflated anti-climatically. I nudged it through my boxers, where it flopped pathetically.

So much for my night of pu**y-filled fun. It seemed the gods were against me. I had become the king of mast***ation during the last few weeks, forgoing any and all female attention that wasn’t Vivian-scary-honey-monster-Baily.

And when I finally had the only woman my poor, neglected penis seemed to want in my arms, I f**ked it up by literally blinding her with condiments.

I licked the stickiness from my fingers and wondered what the likelihood would be for me getting some action if I went into the bathroom with her.

“You f**king ass**le!” Vivian hollered from behind the closed door.

Hmm, I’m thinking slim to none.

I pulled the ruined sheets off the bed and called housekeeping to have them bring up some more.

I tugged on my jeans and sat down on the couch, putting my feet up on the small coffee table. Housekeeping showed a few minutes later and remade the bed. I gave the young, Hispanic girl my sexiest grin and she was too flustered to take note of the strange, sticky substance covering the sheets.

I could hear the shower going and I started to get impatient. After housekeeping had left, I pulled on the elastic waistband of my boxers and looked down at my dismally limp cock.

“Sorry, buddy,” I intoned sadly.

I had officially given up on any plans for a night of no-holds-barred monkey lovin’ and decided to make do with some  p**n . Because Deep Inside Misty Rain never let me down.

I was mid-wank when a pillow bounced off the side of my head, ruining my flow.

“I’m in danger of losing my eyesight and all you can do is rub one out? Are you kidding me?” Vivian stood over me wrapped in a robe, her hair wet and tangled around her shoulders, her face scrubbed red. And her eyes were open. Frighteningly so.

“What else was I supposed to do?” I shrugged and turned my attention back to good ole Misty.

Vivian threw another pillow and this time I had to accept defeat. I tucked my junk away and promised the poor fellow extra care and attention some other time.

“I’m glad you take me so seriously,” she fumed and I knew some careful maneuvering was going to be required here.

Or I could just rile her up even more.

“It was f**king funny, Viv. Stop throwing such a bitch fit about it,” I said, getting to my feet and grabbing a T-shirt off the floor and pulled it down over my head.

I was getting a tad cranky. And the screaming and aggressive pillow throwing wasn’t helping matters. I rubbed at my temples feeling a headache coming on. I needed a drink.

I went to the mini-fridge and pulled out the so tiny it should be illegal bottle of whisky and quickly unscrewed the cap. I tossed it back and coughed. I was vaguely aware that Vivian was still yelling at me.

Her face was flushed and I could still see some honey stuck in hair. I probably shouldn’t mention that. If I had any sense of self-preservation I really shouldn’t poke the snarling bear.

“You’ve still got shit in your hair,” I pointed out.

Vivian’s eyes went wide as if she couldn’t believe what just came from my mouth. I smirked at her and shrugged again.

“I could have helped you get that out, you know,” I told her, wiggling my eyebrows.

Vivian let out what could only be described as a She-Ra battle cry and launched herself at me.

Hell yeah!

She wrapped her legs around my waist and her hands went for my throat. She knocked me backwards and we went tumbling. I bumped into the coffee table, pushing it over. The back of my knees hit the couch and I fell to the floor, Vivian on top of me.

I started to laugh, rocking my now happy groin against her, until I saw the look of pure murder on her face. Crap!

Was she honestly trying to strangle me?

“Vivian!” I choked out, shoving her off me. She rolled to her side and sat up, covering her face with her hands.

She went from raging pissed to sobbing mess in less than two seconds. And I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

When did this go from entertaining to cry me a river? Did I miss something? It was just f**king honey!

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I barked less than kindly. I was quickly losing my patience with this song and dance.

Vivian wasn’t the easiest chick to be around. She was volatile and moody. I never knew whether to expect a kiss or a kick the stomach. She was up and down, left and right. But that’s what I dug about her. She kept me on my toes. We fought. We made up. She screamed, I yelled, and then we’d hump like rabbits.

So the sudden tear-fest made no sense.

Vivian furiously wiped her face and got to her feet. She shook her head when I tried to reach out for her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, trying to make her stop.

I nuzzled the back of her neck, hoping to move us past the ready to kill each other stage to the let’s rip our clothes off and forget this bullshit phase.