Strap One On

So I'm living in Los Angeles and I'm dating this screenwriter. I met her at an Emmy party. Rambler used to live in the fast lane. Anyway, one night we're at the Formosa having a few beers. I, as usual, steer the conversation towards sex. Below is a transcript which, although this happened about ten years ago, I'm guessing is pretty accurate.

Screenwriter: Did you ever do anything you later regretted?

Me: (drags on cigarette) You mean regarding a person or an act?

Screenwriter: An act.

Me: (rubbing hand against head as if in deep thought) No, nothing I can think of.

Screenwriter: Oh, never mind.

Me: No way! You can't not tell me now.

Screenwriter: I don't feel comfortable.

Me: Come on. What was it, threesome?

Screenwriter: No, that I'd do again.

Me: (gulp!) So what then?

Screenwriter: Well, I was seeing this guy and he asked me to fuck him with a strap-on. I did it, but I just don't think I could do that again.

Me: Damn, guess I'll have to return my strap-on.

Screenwriter: Oh, I still have mine.

Me: Uh, thanks but if I was interested I think I'd buy a new one!

Alas, we only had a few more dates. She was one of the best kissers I was ever with but unfortunately I never closed the deal.

Years later I dated another chick with a strap-on thing. She really did try to impale me. She was a good kisser too. Wonder if there is a correlation there.