A couple of days before deer camp a hunter's wife puts
her foot down and tells him he has to stay home and whittle down his honey-do
list of chores.
The fella's friends are upset and understandably
disappointed that he cannot join them at camp. Alas, they are powerless to do anything about it.
Two days later the crew has gathered at deer camp. The fire is stoked in the wood burner. Blaze orange bibs and parkas are hung in the
fresh air on the porch. Even the boots
toe the line. Firearms are carefully
stacked on the gun rack at the back door.
Bunks are claimed and everyone is enjoying a refreshing adult beverage
and shooting the bull in the testosterone-infused atmosphere.
Suddenly the dogs bark as the door from the garage opens
and the heretofore grounded hunter materializes.
Dang dude! How did
you manage to talk your wife into letting you go?
Sidling-up to the kitchen counter and opening a beer the hunter explains...
This morning I was sitting in my chair feeling poorly
when my wife came up behind me.
She put her hands over my eyes and said - 'guess who?' I pulled her hands away and was surprised to see she was
wearing a flimsy negligee from Victoria's Secret.
A collective gasp emanates from the group as the hunter continues.
Then she took my hand and pulled me over to our bedroom.The room had candles and rose petals all over. On the bed she had handcuffs. There were ropes too. She told me to tie and handcuff her to the bed.
Another collective gasp from the rapt audience.
You know I follow directions - so I did what she told me
to do. Then she said - 'Do whatever you want.'
So, here I am.
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