We need to... what?
This dates from before the lovely Mrs. God and I were living together. I came home late, after a couple of days travelling, so I'd been away since early Monday morning. It was now Thursday. I walked in to find Mrs. God posing alluringly in skimpy underwear on the bed. She fixed me with the twin beams of her delicious norks - er, I mean *eyes* - and said, firmly: "We need to shag!"

"Don't you mean *talk*?" I quavered, sitting next to her.

She didn't.

Nor did she mean "talk" the next time, about an hour later.

She didn't even mean it the time after that, which made me almost late for work...

I had to do a customer demo of a highly complex computer system, using three computers, to most of the board of a valued multi-million pound customer. With the flattest 'nads I've ever had, and a red-raw cock. And a very very silly grin.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 20 Apr 2007, 14:37, Reply)