Figging With Ginger…Garnish?
I’m sure there’s probably some basic rule of politeness that one violates when one hoots with laughter at the erotic distresses of another man’s wife. Alas. Because that’s exactly what I just did, when reading about what Fred and Patty got up to with the fancy room-service sushi garnish in the form of an endless spiral of sliced fresh ginger.
Of course there are always hardships a weary traveller must endure when sojourning far from the comforts of home and one’s own familar bed and refrigerator. But ginger in a spiral? It’s terrible, I tell you. Not only is there a lot more surface area and available juice, but there’s the dreaded dangle to worry about:
So the ginger garnish was employed.
Man o Man!
Warning to all brats… go with the root raw OK! Don’t even think about the juicy lengths of peeled garnish. No matter how long and amazingly perfect they seem. The burn was immediate. It suffused into my anus and all the surrounding tissues so quickly, I gasped nore than once.
“Honey! OWWWW! Ow! Ow!.”
“That’s the way baby, Hang in there.”
Fred did not get the point! With the ginger garnish coil dangling from by bum, my hips gyrated and undulated. “Please take it out!” But there was a part that hung out. It touched other VERY vulnerable parts of me, while Fred spanked me with the wooden spoon.
Missed opportunity: they had wasabi, and Fred threatened, but it was not deployed. Maybe next time!



