I had the best date with the cutest guy until the end of the night. We went to Ballard, had dinner & drinks at King’s Hardware. We both had chicken sandwiches—they were divine! Brava, Linda! Then, we proceeded to go to Gas Works where our cute little skyline gleamed in the distance at our aggressive snogging. He had only just moved here and had never been to thee iconic park where Heath Ledger & Julia Stiles once threw paint balloons at one another.

I brought him home to mine, naturally. An hour of hot foreplay goes by, and I asked him if I could eat his ass. He obliged, gladly. A minute in, it began to feel wet. I didn’t think it was him. Maybe I was salivating, or maybe I was suffering from this bipolar weather and it was just a runny nose. Oh wait. No. I look up and I see a decent puddle of blood smeared between his immaculate cheeks. It was a bloody nose.

I asked him not to move while I carefully and sheepishly exited the bed and tried not to leak blood over my peach sheets from Bed Threads. It killed the mood, naturally. As I let my nose dry out with a sexy tissue plugging the bleed, we laughed and held each other. He insisted the nosebleed didn’t ruin the night.

Time will tell if we see one another again. I hope so. He’s a dream. No matter what, I will forever be mortified that I had a bloody nose all over this beautiful man’s ass.

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