Walking along the beach in soft focus

I have a peculiar effect on women. I'm not talking about making women wet, having them mentally undress me, or having them stare at me with an evil smirk or a wink... but something much more physiological. Virtually every woman I meet is cognitive of at least two of those within any given glance, but this is much more disturbing.

For the sake of this, let's divide all women into four groups:

• Women that I do not want to have sex with
• Women with whom I intermittently have sex with, but no emotional attachment
• Women with whom I have a sexual and emotional relationship
• Women who have not yet had the opportunity to have sex with me

That is a pretty all-inclusive list, but for the sake of this subject, I don't care enough about the first two groups to give a shit one way or the other. My observational powers and ability to predict women's futures have yet to care enough to apply this observation to the last category of women. Anyway, we are just going to focus on the group of women with whom I have or have had a sexual and emotional relationship with. You might call it dating (in the past or currently), but I reject that label.

Here's the problem. Women I'm screwing (emotionally and physically) tend to bleed a lot. It's not because I stab them (as with a knife) or they cut themselves (gotta love the ex with the razor blade addiction), but apparently it's because of my 10 inch cock. I can only assume it's the length of my 10 inch cock, and not the girth, because this is coming from deep inside.

That's right, were talking about the crimson tide. Not the movie folks, at least, not the major motion picture anyways. At first I thought that i was just tickling their cervixes a little too much, but then it was explained to me that the hysterectomy uterus is not just a blood filled balloon waiting to squeeze out its contents at the slightest tickle of the cervix.

So apparently my magical 10 inch cock is poking its evil head into the cervix, and undulating around like a psychotic french whisk, and stirring up a lot of trouble in paradise. Apparently it's a fun ride, but my technique long ago surpassed the need to concern myself with the four types of orgasms that women have (spontaneous, clitoral, vaginal, and cervical if you were wondering).

So this seems to be my cross to bear. If I stick around long enough to care about a woman, she starts bleeding all over me. It really got annoying about 3 years ago, and now it's just bitter irony (bitter like the metallic taste of iron). Should I feel bad for my lesbian ex's new girlfriend?

So I think I'm going to have to start using a drill stop to curb all these bloody messes I find myself in. Like I say... Sometimes it's hard being a pilot. Sometimes it's really hard.