Once, with my girlfriend (about 20 years ago), we were about to have sex. We were already naked in bed, kissing, the foreplay was done, and we were ready to go — when I remembered that the condoms were in the bathroom.
I went to get them, and then thought I’d grab a drink from the kitchen while I was at it. I took a soda from the fridge and noticed there was some ham (it was around Christmas time), so I made myself a ham sandwich and sat down to eat it. There was a magazine on the table, so I started reading it too. About fifteen minutes passed — I was already eating my second sandwich — when my girlfriend came out of the bedroom, naked, looked at me for a moment to see what I was doing, and then started screaming like a siren.
