Me Said, She Said

When I do finally get laid next, this is what the conversation might go a bit like:

Me: Wow, I can't believe this is finally happening. It's been a long time.
She: Yeah lets get this over with.[Takes off her top]
Me: Put away those fiery biscuits.
She: What?
Me: Oh, nothing, it's just a Mighty Boosh quote. Lesbian ham.
She: Is that something to do with your threesome fantasy? I told you I'm not interested.
Me: Okay, nevermind, come take my engorged sausage.
She: You like that dirty talking then, eh? Yeah, put your sausage in with my mash.
Me: Oooh, yeah, oooh, sausage and mash, sausage and mash, brussel sprouts baby.
She: No, that's not doing it for me.
Me: Yeah, it is a bit silly. I know what will change the temperature a bit. Just close your eyes and wait here.
She: Where are you going?
Me: I'll be back in a minute...
[After coming back]
She: Aaaaaah. What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck was that? That's fucking freezing.
Me: It's a nice trick I learnt from my mate. He told me going down on someone with crushed ice in your mouth is rather arousing. I couldn't be arsed to find some ice and crush it, so I used ice cream. Karamel Sutra. Thought it would be appropriate.
She: Oh my God, that's disgusting. It's all sticky and stringy like mozzarella.
Me: Yeah, maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
She: You think?
Me: Okay, while you clean up, can I put it in your armpit?
She: WHAT?
Me: Well, at least I'm not asking for back door action.
She: Okay, fine, I guess.
Me: Oooh, how many days has it been since you shaved under there? You've got a bit of designer stubble going on. It's feels nice though, like smooth sand paper.
She: You can stop that now, it feels a bit weird.
Me: You confuse me sexually.
She: What, just because I don't want you to carry on in my armpit?
Me: Sorry, that was another Mighty Boosh reference. You know, in the live show, when Bob Fossil's making his entrance...
She: I don't give a damn. I'm all cleaned up down there now.
Me: Sweet! Can you do something for me? Can you bite on my pecs?
She: Biting? You like that shit?
Me: No, not really. Just do it, then you'll see how rock solid they are.
She: You're fucked up. Why are you so obsessed with your pecs?
Me: Cos they're there. And I've worked fucking hard for them, and endured a lot of ribbing - people calling them tits and the like.
She: Okay, nevermind lets get on with things.
Me [getting on with things]: Oooh, yeah, oooh, Nenna...
She: What? Stop.Who's name did you just call out?
Me: Erm...mama, I just said "Oooh mama". You know I suffer from a touch of the Oedipus. That reminds me, I was meaning to ask you, is your mother open-minded?
She: That's it. I'm fucking out of here.
Me: Can you leave your panties behind?