Tantric Mishaps Reveal Inadequate Companion

Dear Dame Wotta Tripp,

First can I tell you how much I admire you, and how proud I would be to get advice from a lady like you! Hugs!

I know I can trust you with the delicate subject matter of my quest for intimate advice.

My boyfriend Victor (who I had hoped to make my life partner soon) and I have been in a relationship for almost eight (8) years. I felt it was time to develop a more intimate relationship if we were to continue our little adventure along the road of life any further together.
After much discussion I managed to persuade Victor to visit a Tantric Sex Instructor with me for the introductory course, ‘Blissful Flutters’.
We did attend several sessions together, and although Victor’s heart wasn’t wholly in it, I felt we were making some small progress.
Our instructor, Shakti O’Toole, was an interesting woman. She kept several rattle snakes in aquariums around the room, stating that the sound of there rattling made her Kundalini rise, and it’s true she often seemed flushed. I didn’t like snakes too much, but I wasn’t too worried as they were behind glass.

The day our problems really began was nice and sunny. I’d spent considerable time convincing Victor to leave his studies of poker plays, or whatever they are, behind so that we could go for a romantic picnic, which I’d already packed. Chilled wine, cold smoked salmon, French bread, fresh peaches, brie, oysters, strawberries…need I go on?

I didn’t want my little dog Anu to be left out, so I brought him with us, leaving him in the car with plenty of shade and fresh water and the window open.

This session Shakti had placed beautiful candles around the room. The warmth was causing some of the snakes to stir and rattle. This session I was to learn how to be sensual by rubbing a lychee fruit over Victor’s lips. I was doing this, and I didn’t like it very much. It was sticky and one of Victor’s eyes looked sort of off strangely to one side and I was kind of feeling how unappealing it all was, when I heard a noise. To my horror, I saw my little Anu standing there (I was later to discover a nosy neighbor had spotted him in the car, and had let him out in case he wanted a pee and then promptly lost her grip on him).

Anu had come bounding happily in to where he knew his mistress was, but had immediately spotted the snakes and flickering candles. No one but myself had yet seen him, so only I witnessed his panic. He leaped headlong across the room, knocking over lit candles on his way through. Pausing only to panic further he leaped again, this time dislodging two glass snake aquariums. There were several terrible crashes. I stood there screaming as the sticky lychee juice trickled down my hand and glass flew everywhere. Wheeling round I noted that the room was partially on fire. “Shit!”, I screamed.

I watched in horror as an escaped rattlesnake reared up and bit Shakti on the leg. She began screaming and Victor was screaming also, so I began again.

It turned out that Victor was screaming because he had a large shard of glass stuck in his right testicle.

Eventually the fire was properly put out, the snakes caught and Anu safely back in the car. Everyone had to go to hospital to get checked out and treated.

I really should try and get my money back because now everything is much less intimate between us.
For a start, I’m not allowed to light candles and before sex we have to check under the bed for snakes. If Victor achieves an erection, which is now rare, I have flashbacks of the snake striking and recoil from him. Also, Victor now retches when he sees lychees.
The good news is, he can still have children, except he doesn’t want any. Only I do.
As he doesn’t believe in marriage and Mom and Dad don’t like him very much, I feel our relationship may be doomed. Holding your partners hand while he’s getting his balls stitched up wasn’t mentioned in the original ‘Blissful Flutters’ pamphlet. What shall I do?

Lonesome Rose

My Dear,
The Goddess moves in mysterious ways and you have probably just wasted eight years of your life with Victor, and She just wanted to let you know.

A man more concerned about a little piece of glass in his privates than your feelings is not worthy of any more of your attention.

You could try shock therapy if you really want to get him over it, but this would involve filling an entire room with messy writhing snakes and ripe lychees, which is both expensive and difficult to set up.

My advice to you is to take your spiritual tip-off seriously and leave Victor to the study of less mysterious workings, such as hockey, or something similar that requires no effort or imagination, while you follow your bliss elsewhere. Namaste.

Dame Wotta Tripp