Not sure why I didn't add anything to this...i've got lots of stories...some of them didn't happen to me, but to my friends, which is even better...but this one was mine.
So, a night a couple of years ago, my buddies and I all head out to 'our' bar. We have this one dude who hangs out with us, who we called "Stinky Eddie" for, well, obvious reasons. Not the most hygienic dude, you know. Also, a bit of a fatty. But he's super personable and knows like the entire town, so he's good to have around for various reasons. So he was with us that night, amongst a group of others that typically hung out there.
Anyway, Lindros was in "chill mode" that night, which is totally different than "creep mode." Short version, chill mode is when you don't really feel like putting in the effort to meet and greet new chicks and try to get numbers and stuff and as such just hang out, have a few drinks, bullshit with friends and such. If you get some ass, so be it, but you're not looking for it in chill mode. In creep mode, well, that's when you're actively looking to acquire a female (or male, I guess, if you're into that thing) to make genital-to-genital contact with, as quickly as possible.
So, like I was saying, I was in chill mode, just enjoying the surroundings. Most of the night was uneventful, just hanging out, enjoying a few adult beverages, etc. So, toward the end of the night, none of us were really doing much, so we decided that we'd head out to breakfast after the bar closed. Now, Ed was talking to some random chick, but he's notorious for just landing in the "friend zone," so I try to head over to him, while not disturbing his conversation, to try to find out if he's going to head to breakfast with us, or if he was going to hang out with this chick some more. That didn't go exactly as planned.
Now, I didn't know this chick at all, and she wasn't really my type - so just pop into the conversation real quick, being like, "Excuse me, honey," then kinda ask him quietly if he's hanging with her or if he wants to head with us to teh food place. (Dude woulda been mad had we just left and not included him into the eating activites - lol heavy dudes). Anyway, Ed's been putting like solid effort into this chick, working on her for like an hour, at least. So, he says he's cool, and that he's going to hang with her a bit more. So, I'm about to head out, but before I can leave the table, she's says to Ed, "Who's
that!" I roll my eyes (to myself) because I'm feeling kinda bad that my buddy just put in a shitload of work on this chick, and I can tell it's about to entirely crumble in front of both of our eyes.
Ed, as he must do, introduces me, in his typical cock-blocky way. (He had that bad habit of trying to make all of his friends look like dickheads around chicks, trying to be the white-knight - noob.) Well, I try to wiggle outta there without being too rude, because that might fuck up Ed's chances too, but, that tiny bit of niceness, she takes as sincere interest in whatever the nonsensical shit she was talking about. Well, I didn't mean to project that shit, so damn, failure. Unfortunately, I've been at their table for like less than 2 minutes, and it's entirely obvious that she has now focused like 110% of her attention to me. Well, trying to make the best of a bad situation, I'm like, "Well, nice meeting you, but we're gonna head out an grab some breakfast."
Editors note: Pancakes, NOMNOMNOM.
Again, this does not go as I had hoped, as she invites herself out to breakfast with us. And now, because she's just managed to turn 'hanging out with Ed' into 'hanging out with Ed and friends, one of whom she's shown more interest in than she has in Ed' he gets a bit butthurt over it and is like, "No, I've got to get up early (a blatant lie), so I'm not heading out." I try to get him to come out with us, because there's no way in hell I want to deal with listening to this chick's drunken blather for the next hour while trying to enjoy my Moons over my Hammy. Also, this brings up another dilemma, because Ed has one of the cars we were going to take, and this chick is way too drunk to be driving around...and she knows it. So she's like, "I'll go with whoever, as long as they can bring me back to my car after breakfast so I'm more sober."
Of course, because pancakes take precedence over annoying broad, I allow her to drive with me, even though I'm pretty sure this is going to end horribly. So, we get to the restaurant; me, Jordan (the chick - with a boy's name, FTL), and two of our other friends come in the other car. So, this chick is talking like, nonstop through the entire time at the restaurant, which is just sooo fucking annoying. None of us really even know her, yet she feels like she needs to tell us her entire life story, including some crazy odd tangent about this one time when she was involved in "a jewel heist." Great, not only is this dumb broad ruining my peaceful breakfast with uninteresting stories, but I'm apparently eating breakfast with Patty Hearst, now - AND I have to take her back to her car. UGH.
So, I finish my food, my buddies finish up as well, but of course Chatty Cathy has been talking the whole time, so is only like 1/2 done her meal. Great. Now, because it's late and everyone's been up drinking forever, they want to take off, and go to sleep, presumably after jamming ice-picks into their ears after listening to this tripe. So they take off, leaving me with Blabbering Betty. B-E-A-utiful.
.
I sit there, in agony, listening to her go on and on - a few times wondering how mad Ed would be if I just abandoned this chick he knows in the restaurant; maybe faking a family emergency of some sort? - waiting for her to finish her dumb ass story, or whatever was coming outta her mouth. At some point, I excuse myself to hit the head, because I have to piss like a racehorse. As it turns out, the restrooms of this restaurant were in the basement of the restaurant...the vestibule had a flight of stairs which led down to the bathrooms, and the restaurant was on the floor above. This will not end well. Although, at this point, maybe being bludgeoned to death with a Denny's spoon in the basement of the restaurant might not be too bad.
I head into the bathroom, and take a nice, solid, long pee. One of those cool pees, where it feels good, man. Kinda like you just blew the biggest nut ever, except without the orgasm and tittes and such. So, feeling more comfortable, and proud of my epic piss, I wash my hands (you should too, you dirty fuckers. You just had your dick in your hand, wash that shit - I don't want to be holding a door handle that you've just been fondling after you were shaking your piss off your cock) and head outta the bathroom.
*Oh Shit*
The I open the bathroom door, and this chick is standing in the tiny little hall area, outside of the bathrooms. I'm kinda trapped here.
<_<
>_>
So, I'm kinda looking for a way outta here, but, I don't really see one, so I said something like, "Uh, what are you doin' down here?"
"Waiting for you," she says.
Great. So, trying to deflect, I'm like, "Um, well, you could have waited upstairs...it's only like 3 seconds from here." <insert awkward weak laugh here>
She replies, "Well, yeah, but then it would have been harder to do this" and proceeds to jam her tongue down my throat while grabbing by crotcha-region with the grip of a gorilla. I'm now some weird combination of drunk, annoyed, scared and turned on. The drunkeness and annoyance are self-explanatory, as is the scared part (I may be hanging out with Lizzie Borden, it appears). But she wasn't bad looking; probably in the 35-40th percentile of the women I've screwed, so, while not being a supermodel, there are lots of guys who would have been flattered. Not me, but, then, not a lot of guys are as blessed in the awesome department as I. So be it. Anyway, I guess I kinda go with the kiss, and on the bright side, at least she's not talking for two fucking seconds.
The kiss ends as I pull away, because she's still a sloppy drunk-ish chick and now my face is covered in drunk girl spit/syrup residue, I think. Gross. But she's also taken off her sweater, at some point between the time we got to the restaurant and now. I'm not really sure when that happened, but it also appears she's got some solid terts. Not massive DD's or anything, but a solid full C, small D. She still sucks, but has now gained 2 mediocre attributes that provide some distraction from the rest of her sucking as a human. Then she talks again.
"I HAVE TO FUCK YOU!"
"Wha?!"
She whispers, even though we're the only two people in this hallway vestibule thing, "I NEED TO FUCK YOU, NOW."
Need? Seems a strong choice of words. Is something horrible going to happen if I don't fornicate with this broad? Regardless, by now, my testicles have awoken from their slumber, and are dumping testosterone into my bloodstream, making me say to myself, "Meh, no work, big-ish tits, not bad looking, overall, GO FOR IT!" My mind is able to use it's better judgment, however, and overrule teh nuts, with sane arguments like, "Hey she's more than just a little unhinged, and, 'Hey, can you imagine being around this girl for another hour?!'"
The problem, however, is that I still have a 15 minute or so drive back to her car, during which we're going to be entirely alone. Now, I'm a fella with pretty strong willpower and self restraint, but there are limits to these things, you know. The human-ness and fallibility and such.
Cut to my car, as we're heading back to the parking lot to drop her off. At the time, I drove a Jeep Wrangler, standard transmission. Which means, for those of you unfamiliar, that the gearshift is a pretty big stick that sits between the two front seats. I bring this up, because I've found, over the years, that it's much easier to receive a blowjob while driving somewhere in an automatic car than it is in a standard. The logistics of having to shift over her head a bunch of times, with her hair getting in the way and all that non-fun stuff, just makes it a hassle. And I bring that up, because, for all the dumb shit this chick said, and said she'd done, she was skilled as hell at blowing a dude around a gearshift. And by 'a dude,' I mean me. Again, the bright side to the events now going down (literally, lol), was that she's not talking. And that's a big upside. The other part was me getting a BJ, which is also in the not-a-downside category.
Unfortunately for me, I'm not the hugest fan of BJs, since they're like a poor facsimile of sex, only with teeth and faces and such. So, at some point, she bobs up, and is like, pull over here, pointing to an under-construction housing development which is relatively desolate. Now, by this point, my nuts have taken the upper hand in the logic-vs-sex battle going on in my mind. Such is life.
We pull over, and get into
the back seat of my jeep to do the secksytime activities. First, however, I make a stop at my glovebox to grab a condom or 4, which I ingeniously stashed there in the even of just such an emergent situation. Mind you, for the most of this time, she's still mouthifying my wang. So I have that going for me, which is nice.
As I pull out the rubbers to slap one on, I'm again reminded of how awful this broad is, as she says, "Woah, who are you, Mr. Protection?!" ZOMG, WTF.
Now, I've been with plenty of chicks who aren't huge fans of condoms. In fact, I'm pretty sure most chicks prefer getting it raw dawg, but, the possible downsides to such reckless activities are pretty huge, in the scope of life - you know - Teh Aids, Teh Babies - and I can just stop there. So, while I understand the gut feeling that condoms suck, and, in fact, share such sentiments, they're a necessary evil, you know? Well, apparently she didn't, because I've never had a chick be so vehemently against wearing jimmy caps - and genuinely surprised that I was about to throw one on. Which is even more proof that I NEED TO WEAR ONE. She's obviously had plenty of raw dick riding up in there, and I'm not trying to catch whatever those scummy dudes have deposited in this broad's womb.
Anyway, we get into the back seat, after I get my condom all ready for a close up inspection of her vagoo, and off we go. Now, by this point she only had her pants off and was down to her bra. She's sitting on top of me, on the bench seat in the back of the jeep, in this abandoned development at like 4 a.m., bouncing up and down. So, all in all, not horrible times, but certainly not what i had expected starting the night out. But the fun doesn't stop there. So, as I'm fucking this chick, I'm getting pissed off because, (1) were it not for some extraordinary circumstances, she wouldn't have gotten this far with me, (2) I unintentionally cock-blocked my buddy, (3) I'm fucking this chick and her bra is still on and (4) I'm going to be tired as hell the next day. By this point, I can't do anything about the first two things, nor the fourth. The 3rd, however, is rectifiable. So I reach around, to take off her bra, and, honest to god, she says, "Why do you want that off?" Really? I mean, you really just asked that? Next are you going to ask if I breath air? Live on planet earth?
Well, because I am a man and she is a woman (one who apparently needs my cock) I disregard her silly question, and proceed to remove her bra, to get a better look at what she's workin' with there, those C/Ds. This was mistake number elevetyfive on the night. As the bra starts to come off, her tits spill outta those cups like water falling out of a full cup. They were about as firm as a handful of air. On top of that, her nipples were approximately the size of Chicago. I've never been, but I'm just assuming, from satellite pictures I've seen, the size of Chicago. That would be cool, I guess, if I were into crop-circle sized nipples, or fucking chicks who look like they're rejects from the
Mütter Museum, but I'm not, so it wasn't. Ladies, if you're ever fucking a dude, and he makes this face:
...something probably isn't going well. Let us just say that I was doing a pretty solid Pacino impression at that point.
...To be continued (surprise ending to come)...
