I have a sexual attraction to household appliances. You may think I'm joking, but I'm not. Before you call me a freak or degenerate, let me tell you why;
I was on vacation with my mom & dad in San Antonio. We arrived around 8 or 9 at night and checked in at the nearest Motel 6. Desperate to catch some sleep from the roadtrip, I rushed up the stairway to our room and in the process ripped my cargo pants.
This usually wouldn't be a problem, but somehow I had forgotten my briefcase. I had no willpower to fret over it, I could just get another pair at Walmart tomorrow. Right then I needed some sleep, so I passed out on the floor because my parents hate eachother and needed separate beds.
I woke up the next morning and went downstairs to get my share of the continental breakfast. They had a waffle iron that you put your own batter in and waited about 45 seconds until it was done. Now, being the dumbfuck I am, I decided it would be a good idea to mix maple syrup into the batter.
When the iron beeped, I rushed to open it, and in the process burnt the ever-loving shit out of my thumb. I put it on ice and then tried once more to open the foul beast, only this time with an oven mitt that the staff had so kindly provided. I was not prepared for the evil that awaited me. It was so poorly formed, so burnt in some areas and so liquidy in others.
Then it happened. The syrup that I had added bubbled up and fucking flew right into the tear in the crotch of my pants. I don't even know how it could've done so at that angle, but I did know that my dick was burning with the fury of a thousand suns. I yelped, ran up to my room, forced the door open and hopped into the shower. Luckily nobody was in there.
