Passion & Ponies (Chocoholics 2)

“Ava? Are you out there?” Tyler yells again.

Case in point. I’m really f**king busy right now and he probably just wants sex.

“The Bachelor is on, can’t it wait an hour?” I shout back.

Just then, one of the women on the show starts sobbing because she only got five minutes of alone time with that jackass they’re fighting over like rabid women at a Hermes Birkin bag sample sale and now she’s certain he’ll never love her.

“Oh, my God, YOU JUST MET HIM!” I scream at the television.

I check my watch and realize that we have our first crier at exactly twelve minutes and seventeen seconds. Scrolling through the comments on my blog, I see that I have a winner who guessed twelve minutes correctly. Looks like she’s getting a lovely scarf to commemorate the downfall of smart, independent women everywhere.

“Seriously, Ava, this can’t wait!” I hear Tyler yell again.

With a roll of my eyes, I pause the DVR and toss my phone onto the couch cushions before getting up and heading down the hall.

Tyler meets me right outside the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around his hips while he chews on his bottom lip nervously.

It takes me a minute to compose myself when I see little droplets of water sliding down his chest. Thoughts of every single cheesy romance novel I’ve ever read float through my mind as I stand here like an idiot with my mouth open and stare at him, trying not to say things like “rock hard abs,” “delicious six-pack” and anything with the words “manly” and “bulge”.

Thank God Charlotte and Gavin went out for the evening. Now that I’ve fallen off the No Sex With Tyler Wagon, I plan on shifting that baby into high gear and riding him into the sunset.

“So, I need to show you something, but you have to promise not to laugh,” Tyler says, pulling me out of my daze.

Before I can confirm or deny said promise of laughter, he yanks the towel away from his hips and drops it to the floor by his feet.

I didn’t think it was possible for my mouth to open any wider than it already was. I’ve seen Tyler’s penis before; I’ve had Tyler’s penis in my mouth. While it’s a pretty amazing sight to behold, for once that’s not what has me in such a state of shock.

“Do you have a Band-Aid on your balls?” I ask incredulously as I tilt my head to the side to get a better look.

He’s grabbed onto his penis at this point and pulled it up flush with his stomach so I can see what’s going on. Sure enough, the area between his balls and his shaft is covered with a pink, My Little Pony Band-Aid.

“Yep, that’s a Band-Aid. I sort of had an accident with the hair clippers I found under the sink in Gavin’s bathroom,” he admits, craning his neck to stare down at his own junk.

“You used Gavin’s hair clippers to trim your ball hair? Are you insane?” I question, kneeling down to get a better look.

I should be walking away and not entertaining his odd behavior but really, how often do you get to see a dude with a Band-Aid on his balls?

“Under different circumstances, having you on your knees with your face by my c**k would be so totally awesome,” Tyler sighs.

I look up at him from the floor and scowl.

“But yeah, those clippers must have been from the 1950’s or some shit. They sucked my pube hair into them like a f**king wood chipper and wouldn’t let go. I can’t believe you didn’t hear me screaming from the shower. There was so much blood. Blood from my balls was everywhere. It was like Texas Chainsaw Ball Massacre.”

He reaches down and starts peeling away the edge of the Band-Aid. I quickly jump up and move away, my back slamming into the wall in the narrow hallway.

“Oh, my God, what are you doing? Don’t take that thing off! You’re going to get your ball sack blood all over Charlotte’s carpet!”

He ignores me, pulling the Band-Aid completely off and I cringe when I see the cut that goes straight up the underside of his penis. It looks like he tried to filet his junk like a fish.

“Why in the hell would you do that to yourself?” I question, shuddering when he taps his finger against the cut and then checks his finger for traces of blood.

“I just thought a little manscaping was in order. You’re considerate enough to get waxed so I don’t yack up a pube when I’m down there, thought I’d return the favor,” he tells me with a smile.

Is it weird that I think this is kind of sweet? It’s totally weird. I’ve lost my f**king mind.

“It’s almost done bleeding,” he continues, grabbing the towel from the floor and wrapping it back around his hips. “Man, I screamed like a bitch when the soap got on it in the shower. So, are we having sex tonight or what?”

Shaking my head, I turn and head back into the living room. “If getting soap on it hurt that bad, what the hell do you think my vagina is going to do to it?”

Tyler follows behind me. “Your vagina is sweet and kind and would never hurt my penis. Don’t worry; it will be fine. It’s way down at the bottom, so unless your vagina decides to suck up my balls, it will be okay. The bleeding should stop soon.”

I turn around to face him when I get to the living room, crossing my arms in front of me. I can’t help but stare back down at his crotch and feel a little sad that he covered it up. It really is a nice penis, even with a sliced scrotum.

“I am not earning my red wings with you tonight. Thanks, but no thanks,” I tell him.