Talking about number 12 is hard. He was obsessed with a thing most girls won’t do.

I can’t forget our first date. He appeared at my window, whistling a song… well, not really a song, just a whistling noise. I was living in a sixth floor apartment at the time….

He wasn’t the best-looking man. Short, skinny and bald; I wondered how his neck supported his melon of a head. But his eyes: he had these big, beautiful black eyes. When I saw him, I couldn’t even move. It was like I was floating away on a beam of light.

Then he wants anal on the first date.

I said no. He persisted. We had a huge row. Finally I said I’d only do it with my husband, trying to put him off. Before I know what’s happening, I’m at the altar. Again.

So on honeymoon night, I start thinking, hey, lots of couples do this. It can’t be that bad, right?

Ha!

Next thing I know, the pervert’s strapped me to a table and has this, this sex toy covered with lights and dials, the size of a hospital MRI .

Needless to say, I got an annulment.