We had the drinks and the heart to heart. We laughed. Our thighs touched under the table. Our gaze went uninterrupted. I made an awkward comment about cunnilingus and it got weird for a second, but I recovered. We even had the STD inquiry. I'm horny (what's new) and I have a boner (again, nothing new.) It's 1:30 am.
We head to her friend's boyfriend's apartment.
I turn on XBox 360 and throw in "Blow." George Jung is a badass. An imprisoned badass but a badass nonetheless. I stumble back to the couch. I'm buzzed. 5 out of 10. I think about what's to come. I open another beer and picture my accomplice as a stewardess. George must have gotten hella pussy. It's 2:35 am.
We touch. I feel guilty about being on her friend's boyfriend's couch buttass naked and then I touch her boob. My worries disappear. I'm still concerned about my man-sweat (and worse) getting on her friend's boyfriend's couch, but whatever. I mean, boobs, right? It's 4:35 am.
Catch the math? We've been fooling around for 3 solid hours. I already selected "Play Movie" again. I am now hearing Johnny Depp's character deteriorate rapidly for a second time in the last 180 minutes. His life is not nearly as badass the second time around. It sounds like it sucked actually. It sounds like my night feels.
While I enjoy fooling around as much as the next guy, I don't enjoy 3 hours of it at 5:35 am. My weiner is sore. I'm tired. I'm either gonna cum or just pass out. I don't get a chance to do either.
My arms are falling asleep so I reposition myself. I know what you're thinking and yes, I'm licking her labia. I am tantalizing her taint. I am rummaging her rim. She farts. Like man farts. Like "PLOOMF" in my face.
I'm not grossed out. Not yet. No, I'm straight up offended. A fucking fart? Really? In my face?
She apologizes. She looks me in the eyes, the same eyes she just farted into and says she's sorry. This did not help.
It's too late. I think my penis has actually burrowed into my own stomach out of repulsion. It's over. The night was done.
I made a snide comment about her needing to wear more deodorant. (She actually smelled great...my feelings were hurt) I get dressed, grab my shoes and leave.
The next day her Facebook status read "Sometimes it happens." I messaged her "sometimes I masturbate while listening to Prince and I kept that from happening last night...what's your excuse?" She didn't reply.
I have a feeling things are over between us.
We head to her friend's boyfriend's apartment.
I turn on XBox 360 and throw in "Blow." George Jung is a badass. An imprisoned badass but a badass nonetheless. I stumble back to the couch. I'm buzzed. 5 out of 10. I think about what's to come. I open another beer and picture my accomplice as a stewardess. George must have gotten hella pussy. It's 2:35 am.
We touch. I feel guilty about being on her friend's boyfriend's couch buttass naked and then I touch her boob. My worries disappear. I'm still concerned about my man-sweat (and worse) getting on her friend's boyfriend's couch, but whatever. I mean, boobs, right? It's 4:35 am.
Catch the math? We've been fooling around for 3 solid hours. I already selected "Play Movie" again. I am now hearing Johnny Depp's character deteriorate rapidly for a second time in the last 180 minutes. His life is not nearly as badass the second time around. It sounds like it sucked actually. It sounds like my night feels.
While I enjoy fooling around as much as the next guy, I don't enjoy 3 hours of it at 5:35 am. My weiner is sore. I'm tired. I'm either gonna cum or just pass out. I don't get a chance to do either.
My arms are falling asleep so I reposition myself. I know what you're thinking and yes, I'm licking her labia. I am tantalizing her taint. I am rummaging her rim. She farts. Like man farts. Like "PLOOMF" in my face.
I'm not grossed out. Not yet. No, I'm straight up offended. A fucking fart? Really? In my face?
She apologizes. She looks me in the eyes, the same eyes she just farted into and says she's sorry. This did not help.
It's too late. I think my penis has actually burrowed into my own stomach out of repulsion. It's over. The night was done.
I made a snide comment about her needing to wear more deodorant. (She actually smelled great...my feelings were hurt) I get dressed, grab my shoes and leave.
The next day her Facebook status read "Sometimes it happens." I messaged her "sometimes I masturbate while listening to Prince and I kept that from happening last night...what's your excuse?" She didn't reply.
I have a feeling things are over between us.
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