Saturday, January 29, 2005
DAMN YOU, KING ALCOHOL!
O yes.
We’ve all been there. Countless Jack n’ Cokes…then…you spot her. The flaxen-haired fair goddess that meets your gaze.
You exchanges glances. Dances. She accompanies you home to your mother’s basement (It’s only temporary, Doll; c’mon down and check it out…)
Then you wake up to THIS.
Share your tawdry tales, as e’er, in the comments section. And prepare to squint your mind’s eye.
O…The horror…
The gauntlet has been thrown.
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Horror Stories.
Mine includes, copious amounts of yam-yam, Belgian ales of the high alcohol content (10.5% ABV), and one of the hairiest clam I’ve ever encountered. Mix that all together and throw in a throbbing, rancid hangover and a invitation, and by invitation I mean early morning tugging, to go again the next morning. No thanks, where’s the Alka-Seltzer and here’s hoping my car is not too far away.
Is the blonde Mama Troll Doll?
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http://imgcdn.geocaching.com/track/large/5a5f0388-38c8-439e-b492-dd19d5bd7f1d.jpg
Didn’t some chick shit all over Jacques, once?
I am sworn to secrecy on the details of the Miami trip where my rental car ended up in the hands of someone else. I can say that that I had a short conversation with legendary douchebag “Kettlehead” that night.
I had a little bit of wet shit spray in my mouth once whiIe was eating a girl’s ass and bloody vagina. I didn’t know her but she was pretty young though so I just gulped it all down. Other than that I dug all the blood, piss, hairy nipples, jungle bush, prehensile cervii, etc. But if a girl had bad breath, not smokey or boozy, but fishy I wouldn’t touch em cause I was keen to the general hygeine patterns.
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Clean breath = eatable bloody puss and ass. The chunkier the estrus the better. Normal periods are like Campbells Italian Wedding Soup. I prefer Chunky Manahattan Clam Chowder with big chunks and if you get it right, sometimes you can filter the fallopian waste through your teeth and find the ovum, which gives a pop when you crunch it. It tastes like unlived dreams, unicorn poop, and sweetbreads.
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I don’t got no gross stories today Sons.
Correction, piss AND shit all over.
Thanks Rev! I was trying to eat lunch!
I think you’ll all remember my story about the girl that looked like “a beer can with tits” that ended in infamy with , “I CAN’T STAY HERE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS !”
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Well, this one’s pretty good ,too
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I had this little babe, to protect the innocent we’ll call her “Fedelma”. Well Fedelma was wild for cocck. She would give me head to conclusion and swallow every gulp.
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The cool thing about her was I didn’t have to take her on date or pay for her drinks all night, she didn’t always want to get the same in return or even have sex. The few times we got it on , she was amazing, came really fast, multiple times so she made me feel like a great lover. I could always pull out and finish in her mouth just like in porn. Yay!
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So,.. this one night , there was a party on my street so a bunch of us did some pre-buzz activity at my place. When it was time to leave I made a dumb excuse as everyone filed out and dragged Fedelma into my room and got a tremendous two load BJ. Let’s just say I was a lot younger then, and could do that sort of thing …….
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So we walked ( she walked, I kind of limped, bow legged) to this other party. As we came to the door a bunch of my buds were in the front hallway. As we walked in she gave them each a big hug and kissed them on the mouth. As I walked behind her shaking hands hello I said:
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“Hey Tony, how do I taste?”
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“BRIAN! You’ve got cock on the breath, mine!”
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“Hey Bill, you just snowballed me, congrats!”
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“Mike? Didn’t know you liked the jizz…”
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“Vic,… if you wanted my dick you could have just asked..”
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Needless to say I was not a popular guy that night and looked over my shoulder for a few months
Also , a side note about Fedelma. I introduced her to the beer bottle diddle job. Now this was before the rampant availability of fetish porn and the ‘net was unheard of
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She was doing me and whipped around like she wanted “69” . I was reluctant since I wasn’t all that sure that she hadn’t blown or fucked some other guy that day since she was so FUCCEN easy. I had a Bud longneck on my night stand so I plunged it up her peeping yanghole
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She screamed in ecstasy and pumped that thing so hard I was afraid it was going to break off and cut her womb. Cut her womb I says.
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Fedelma knocked around on that bottle until she was spent, I think I counted 4 orgasms, more or less. I banged her up the ass while that thing was in her twat but had to pull that glass time bomb out for fear my schvantz might get cut off in the carnage of an accident…. best sex ever
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I should have married that gal…….
Also, found that link with the “Beer can with tits ” story in it. Worth another read if I do say so myself and since it belongs here
I think Dark Sock is mobile.
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http://www.tennessean.com/story/news/local/rutherford/2014/05/19/sex-atm-table-murfreesboro-bar/9293507/?sf26352268=%5B%271%27%5D
hmmm. Unfortunately, my memory is so short these days. I did just recently shag an old lady though. 20 yrs my senior. Friend of a friend of a friend, combined with St. Pat’s hijinks. I’m not sure she got the full performance she needed out of me, but it turns out neither of us remember what exactly happened. The only micro second of recollection I have was that she was allowing/asking me to give her the Belmont Stop (switching from the red line to the brown line, you know what I mean) and I couldn’t muster enough of anything similar to turgidity. Like trying to ram a garden hose into a peephole. So that was disappointing.
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The nice thing is that she runs a boxing club out in the burbs so she was surprisingly well shaped still. Her daughter in college is more the age group I’m used to experimenting with, but after some facebook perusal, it would appear the age-old dream of dating both the mother & daughter would be a losing proposition. Had my hopes up for a split second there though.
There was the time that the women’s rugby team from a nearby college were staging their year end party about 5 doors down while I was simultaneously entertaining guests on my patio. Sure enough, these “beer cans with tits” made their way over to co-mingle and it wasn’t that long before one girl has identified herself as the non-lezzie of the crowd and proceeded with attempts to coax me into her arms.
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If I didn’t have people that I respect over to my house already, I may have been more apt to accept these advances, but continued to spurn them to save face myself. But sure enough, this girl decides she will not quit and follows us out on our jaunt the local bar establishment down the street. So we keep rolling our eyes at her steadfastness, and she continues to profess her goal of bedding me. So, when she gets up to go to the ladies room, I tell my friends that I’m jumping ship and head out the door.
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Two minutes later, this girl has sprinted down the street to catch me so that by this point I figure “well, I guess she deserves to have a round” and take her to task. However, as you would expect from a rugby player, she is not very attractive. Almost cute in the face actually, and thankfully only 19 or so, but certainly nothing you would ever willingly admit to having penetrated. I give it a go and just can’t arouse myself into the race and sort of just give up. She then has me mount her and tells me to titty fuck her until I come on her face. I figure, this is as good a time as ever for this, so I go to work. I think I’m making progress and have an honest shot at closing it out, but she starts motormouthing the same phrase in constant repetition, over and over and over and over “Fuck my tits [jonezy]. Fuck my tits [jonezy]. Fuck my tits” until it totally broke my concentration- the absurdity of it was just too much.
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So, she actually leaves her number with me and I tell her- there is no way I am going to use that number. She writes it down anyway and I assure her, that I will never dial those numbers. She thought I was joking. Still have that number in the condom drawer next to my bed actually. She ends up walking out that night to go stay at her friends house 5 doors down.
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Anyway, the punchline is actually that the next day I am on my patio, and have a friend over having beers, and this girl approaches to say hi. And naturally I had made no admission to my friend about this, but he can totally smell it out. She says she is going to go get her stuff and come back over. So I say cool, and as she walks away, get off my patio and out to a bar asap. My buddy is just dying laughing with the “you did it with THAT thing?” jokes and I have no choice but to confess. Sure enough, I get a text from my roommate about 15 min later “there is some girl here that says she is just going to wait in your room until you come back- is she for real?” I told him to kick her ass out.
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That was probably 6 or 7 years ago so I’m sure this girl is a full grown whale by now and nearly want to see what would happen if I were to dial that number. I simply have not been desparate enough to draw myself down that road…..
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I ever tell you the story of the chick that wanted to go on a date after meeting me for a craigslist furniture purchase transaction? Well, we went on that date. It was bizarre.
actually- another good one told in unison.
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This girl was entered into my phone as Lindsay Fat. I’ll give you one guess why. Me and my buddy had been so proud of ourselves for approaching a group of young good looking women, and focusing our efforts on purpose onto the two ugliest ones- so we both went home with these fat girls one night leaving the good looking ones to ponder what on earth had just happened. It was amusing to us at least.
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This girl KNEW that the imbalance was not going to last and I remember that first night, after a thorough romping, I told her I was hungry afterwards, and she literally- I swear this happened- left her apartment at about 2a to go get bacon at the 7-11 because I had requested a BLT for post-coital snacking. She went and bought that bacon and cooked that shit up and I was honestly impressed. So, that is how I ended up even taking her number in the first place. So, she’d booty call my and I would show up and she be in lingerie and what not. I have a vague recollection I’ve never seen meat curtains quite like that before- honestly, like 3-4 inch labia. It was crazy. She only had an AC window unit in her living room, and a twin bed, so after knocking around each time, I wouldn’t even say anything, get up, and go sleep on her couch under the AC unit. It’s amazing the amount of fucks you can avoid giving when there is such disparity on who you are shagging.
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But onto the punchline. I am leaving after probably the 5th hook up session, walking out the door- and don’t get me wrong- I treat her nicely- but she asks me “hey, let me get your email address so we can make plans to go out sometime” And mind you, this is 2005ish so we are living in the modern era- and I actually paused, measured my response, and actually said this to her: “oh, I dont HAVE an email address” – just about the boldest faced lie you can even come up with. “I’ll shoot you a text though! See ya” and walked away. She must have been crushed. I did not ever hear from her again. Brutal.
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But, I actually had a chance to do the same a few summers ago. Destination wedding for 5 days in Cancun- our buddy invites all us single dudes, and his wife invites her single friends. I managed to get squared off with a fairly square shaped broad that I honestly said 20 words to before going home with her that first night of the trip. So, everyone was pretty stick with what they had after that first night and I went with it and kept following up with this girl each night. She hardly attractive but she was also willing to give me the “I’ll just leave my door open so whenever you get done here, come over” proposition while at the bar, when I said I was staying out even though she was trying to coax me home. So like 4 hours later and sunlight encroaching I rolled into her place to slap one on her (with her roommate friend right there one bunk over that had played just the tip with one of my buddys on that first night but required some sort of commitment far beyond what I had worked out with my girl to that point).
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So, the week wraps up, I’ve banged her every which way and all over the resort campus, and she is leaving my room on the last morning- we both have separate flights but she is a fellow resident here in Chicago. She says “well, let me write my number down so we can get together in Chicago” and I don’t know how I had the balls to do this but I reply “no- you know what. I’ll just get it from someone else when we get back to town” – she actually gives the “are you sure- it’ll just take 2 seconds” and I confirm my denial. Must have been crushing to her.
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I ran into her at a bar a month later, having never attempted to get her number, and naturally she brought me home with her. I escaped before nay number exchanging but my buddy who had the Cancun wedding told me that the next day, she asked his wife for my number, and he had only one choice. He gave his wife a fake number for her to pass along to this girl. She really set herself up for that one though. We were wondering if she might just kill herself after feeling the sting of that one.
it should also be noted that I did dump a girl once because she had the worst O-face ever, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. She only carried one expression during sex, and it was just a hideous contortion of her face. The argument was made- can’t you just turn off the lights or do doggy style? And while that’s true, all I could picture is that face. i can still see it. She was suuuper nice girl too, but I had to end it. If she only knew that was the real reason- I gave her some bullshit excuse, but we still get a good laugh about that face she would make, and if the guy she went on to marry notices the same thing or not.
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I am a horrible person.
@ Jonezy
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It’s strange how the dick can get up for some hags but won’t comply with others, eh?
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I was working at liquor store on the Cape during the desolate winter months. Crushing boredom and lonely nights as that fucking world closes at dark an there absolutely fuccen NOTHING to do ….
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So this little babe, semi-hott but not killer looks, comes up to the counter with a bottle of wine, some shit that was in then like, Soave Bolla …chatted her up to find out she just rented a place in town and was going to paint that night
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So being a gentleman, and be being a gentleman I mean a horned up let’s fuck now kinda guy, I offered to bring a second bottle after work and help her paint
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When I got there she had polished off the bottle and not even opened the paint can. I shared the bottle I brought barely taking a sip as I can’t stand wine. When she was good and tanked I made the move and sure enough we were on Turn 1
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She was amazing ,we were banging away and during our wrangling got on top and started firing away with her hips which turned into a serious squat session. She put her head back and was getting off when she stretched her arms out wide and began flapping them like a bird…
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Fellers, I will forever be sorry for what happened next…. I laughed… couldn’t help it… you gotta picture a little chick bouncing on yer cock going “ohohohoh ho ho ho ohohoh” while splaying her wings
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She immediately stopped , looked down at me with the fury of a thousand suns and started punching the shit outta me, my face my chest, then she reached behind her a tried to punch my balls before I could even react….. all this time my cocck was in her… she couldn’t get a good shot at my cockenballz… it was fuccen weird to say the least
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She jumped off me and started throwing shit at me. Alarm clock, shoes, coasters, a glass.. damn I could have gotten seriously injured
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I grabbed my shit and got dressed outside. On the way out her door she kicked me in my bare ass. My upbringing is the only thing that kept me from hitting her back. I could never do that.
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When I told my buds about this they laughed for a week… yeah, I know ….
In 2001, shortly after the events of that year, my wife and I pondered a new path beyond our self-absorbed post-yuppie excess. She went off the pill.
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Furious sex action and work combined with some social outreach started to appease our wanting for more. We leased a new house in Toronto and moved to the evil T-Dot.
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She found out she was pregnant and while moving out of the old house found $5,000 hidden in a jean jacket no longer befitting a businesswoman of her vintage.
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A harbinger of the good luck before us she thought. It was my escape cache that I had forgotten about a few years earlier. Anyways, we have raucous pregnant sex. Her chunky fluids dripping over my face as we 69. It was hot sex, man! I thought we were golden, her thick belly compressing my diaphragm as we revelled in the hottest sex ever.
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Late pregnancy led to a pre-diabetic condition and the date for inducement was set. I booked the luxe suite as I was a little excited about saving her from illness and the kid thing too.
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So I’m fucking drunk and the doctor asks me if would like to see the foetus come out. I take a look and pet her head.
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“That’s not her head” he whispers as my wife digs her nails into my forearm. ” “What the fuck is that?” It’s a hemorroid crown he says. I go to the fridge and swig some hootch.
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I look back to see a head and a ring of bursting anal veins.
I drank more. I passed out. I woke up and took her and baby to the new home.
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A few days later I heard a scream. “Reverend Chad, I’m finally shitting..please help.”
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I run to the bathroom to assist my sweet Whore/Madonna
and she’s lying on the floor. “It finally came out.” she says.
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She retreats to the bedroom to suckle the newborn future swimming champion and beckons “You will need to clean that up.”
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I take a quick peek and see an overflowing bowl of concrete shit in the form of a stiff Dairy Queen swirl. I vomit and retire to find my excavating tools.
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Waiting until she fell into her Motherly sleep, I found my Milwaukee Sawsall and spent the evening cutting the anaconada turd to pieces, cleaning the pipes of the petrified foeces of childbirth and threw the chunks into the neighbours yard like a leprous Frenchman invading the spirit of his foes castle by catapult.
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Biological Fact
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I hated those neighbours. Fucking English (no respect
Reverend Chad paints a beautiful picture using the timeless language of love.
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In the roaring seventies I picked up a homeless chick who was hitchhiking in fifteen degree weather. As she climbed in the truck I attributed her blistered, ruddy face and steady stream of snot to the inclement weather. She smelled of body odor and vagrancy and appeared to be carrying all her worldly possessions in an old, tattered shopping bag. I brought her over to a friend’s house who was fortunately not home. The more layers of clothing she removed, the worse she looked. Turns out the red face was some kind of skin condition and she continually wiped her nose on her sleeve to abate the endless, oozing mucus running down the front of her face. She said very little, was thawing out and smelling worse, and I realized she wasn’t in full control of her faculties. Acting fast, before I lost my nerve, I had her drop her drawers and entered her quickly and efficiently from the rear, with the understanding that I’d buy dinner after. As I humped with the guilty fury of a man ashamed, she patiently waited for me to finish, her only outward reaction to my sexual performance was an occasional grunt, between nose wipes.
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I’m an honorable man, so after cleaning off and zipping up I took her straight to the nearest McDonalds. She stood in front of me as we waited in line in awkward silence. When her turn came the counter worker asked, “May I help you Sir?” She turned around to me with a furious scowl and a swipe of her nose, and said, “I hate it when they do that!” I paid for her meal, got mine ‘to go’ and left her happily chowing down a Quarter Pounder with cheese and large coffee.
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Not proud of it, but a true story, Sons.
My mental rendition of Vin’s encounter is thusly: http://img110.imageshack.us/img110/181/01a474b92e5bb4fd7601508tf1.gif
Did I already tell the story about Phuket involving the de-clawed kitten ball massage? There was a lactating hooker and some hepatitis too, but that’s another story entirely.
My first real job after college was with a trucking company who transferred me to a small town in PA. One night I meet this girl who’s body can best be described as a beer can with tits. We go to her apt, which is around the back of a house. She gets naked immediately and under the covers. She wont do anything but straight missionary position and wants a lot of eye contact. I’m drunk and freaked out by her, so I say I’m going to go and I’ll let myself out.
I go downstairs and out this hallway which leads to the back door. There is a little bathroom off the hall so I stop to take a leak. There are tons of shoes in the bathroom. For some reason I decide to throw 15-20 pairs of shoes in the shower stall and turn on the water before going home.
She found me in a club about a month later and was pissed. The apartment was in the back of her parents house. The shoes belonged not only to her but all her family members. The hallway was shared by the main house and the apartment. Her family got up to go to church the next morning and there was no hot water since it had been running since 3:00 am. So after not showering they went to put their church shoes on, which were freshly showered.
She is making a scene and telling me to wait at the club while she gets her father. A bouncer comes over to see whats going on and tells her he’ll keep me there. She leaves and I tell the bouncer I’m not staying so, this dick calls for help and I’m surrounded. I tell him I broke something by accident and hand him two hundred dollar bills and tell to give it to her when she returns and it’s more than enough for what happened and they let me walk out.
I never went into a bar in that town again and fortunately was transferred after about a year.
@ Dickie
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You’re a prick. In a good way, brah
I met a girl, then I got drunk enough to let her move in with me. No regrets. Well, maybe one or two.
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**Story of my life. -D.S.**