One of the most bizarre experiences I have ever had was when I was out in Lincolnshire. Not actually in Boston, but it made a good title!

I was in a pub and got chatting to a nice looking young girl, mid twenties, slim, nice smile..... and as it transpires during the course of events..... a certifiable nutcase!

We had a few drinks together and one thing led to two things and we ended up back at her place. Coffee, Everything but the girl on cd (which is a key indicator of a woman in pain) and a few candles flickering and there we were bish bash bosh........ I love the way girls proclaim their virtue so valiantly while simultaneously chucking their own knickers over their shoulder and assuming the position! The line " I never usually do this on a first date" is a standard line it seems which makes me;

A/ a super stud whom women cannot resist (highly unlikely)
B/ witness to the fact that many girls are lying slappers!

So there we were, having a kiss and a cuddle her enthuasiasically naked, me in my boxers and as I said bish bash bosh all is good in the world. Ten minutes or so into it we had a position change and she went on top.... and it was at this point ladies and gentlemen that things took what I can only describe as a turn for the worst.

During the next few moments we kissed a bit, and then slowly but firmly she put her hands around my neck and started to squeeze. Only gently at first, which caused me surprise, but initially I wasn't too concerned. However as the moments passed and I realised the full implications of her tightening grip I did start to question the wisdom of remaining in such a vulnerable position any longer. With cavalier abandon I rapidly came to the conclusion that this particular fuck had run its course so with what I can by now only describe as mild panic I threw her off me and onto the floor. Grabbing up my discarded clothing I dressed as hurriedly as I could, and despite her protests about misunderstandings I made my excuses and left.

To say that I felt I had had a luck escape is an understatement, at that moment I felt fortunate to have survived with everything intact! I lit a cigarette, fired up my car and headed home, older but seemingly no wiser.

The following day I received a call from the nutcase herself and was as you can predict dubious about taking it, lest this was the beginning of some mad stalker ritual. I answered her call, more out of curiosity that anything else, after all, how many murderers call their failed victims the following day? I don't have accurate figures, but I suspect it to be quite a low number.

Sheepishly she apologised for her actions and then set about trying to explain what had occured and why. It turns out that she had had quite a few one night stands that she had wanted to be more than that. She in her own way concluded that it must be because she was not a very good shag that they didn't come back, so she had set about doing some research. The information that she had relied upon had been gleaned from Cosmo or some similar chick tat publication, and under the headline "Give your man the best sex he ever had" she had devoured the article on asphyxiation taking each and every word as literally as it is possible to do..... I was lucky not to get an orange in my mouth and a bin bag over my head!

The part of the article that she must have speed read, ignored or dismissed as superfluous probably contained little snippets such as "if you are in a loving, trusting relationship" and " talk about it first so he knows what to expect"....... at no point in time did it occur to her that her actions might be misunderstood.

All she had wanted to do was to give me the best sex I had ever had so that I would stick around...... odd how strangulation sometimes doesn't achieve that!