A young man, anxious for some sexual exercise, picked up a hot little number in Central Park, not realizing that she was a nymphomaniac. He took her to a hotel. After six times, she was screaming for more. After the seventh, exhausted, he slipped out of the room on the pretense of buying cigarettes. He stopped in the men's room, unzipped his fly, and couldn't find anything.
In a panic he reached inside his shorts. It was still there, but tiny and all drawn up. In asoothing voice he whispered, "It's all right. You can come out now. She's not here!"