She arrived at the house a bit late and a bit drunk from a dinner with two French friends, playfully cursing their high tolerance for drinks of the alcoholic variety.

"I just don't know how they do it?! We went through three bottles and they weren't even buzzed!"

"Its because they've probably been drinking the stuff since they were 10. Hell, they were probably weaned on Merlots!" I replied.

The house was chilly, as it always is this time of year, and so she quickly stripped down and jumped under the covers, inviting me to keep her company. I laid there as she recalled the evening's events - the subjects discussed over dinner, the stories told. One in particular told of a past encounter with one of the frenchies and an unusual game of chicken, aka "who-can-pee-on-who".

And that's when she said it with a slight smirk on her face.

"You know, I'd let you pee on me if you wanted. You should try it, it can be kinda fun sometimes."

[momentary pause for reality check]

"um........uh.........thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

I'm taking it as a backhanded compliment. Like I've somehow passed through to a higher level of trust (and perversion). Frankly, the idea doesn't do anything for me but I am never one to say never. I'm already hearing jokes from Curly and Degrassi Mel about this and will have to be prepared to be reminded of it for a very, very long time should they find out I went through with it. lol