So I never really thought of myself as a blogger, but I swear to you, I could not make up half the shit that happens in my life if I was fuckin Louisa May Alcott... and yes, I went there. Let's just start with why I'm here...
It all started six years ago... I'm sure every woman has a story like this. I was young and stupid. I fell in love with a guy that knew more about beer and cocaine than your basic third grade arithametic. I thought he was the epitome of hot men everywhere. So to cut this dramatically tragic story to a minimum, we then took part in six years of on and off fucking. Not just fucking, but GREAT FUCKING. It got to a point where the awkward queef noises and random jizz shots would make us laugh rather than make me want to cry in the fetal position or go take a crying game shower. So this had been going on up until like a month ago. Things weren't going so great at the end, but the nerve of this imbicil to come at me and tell me that he needs to move on with his life is just mind boggling to me at this point... especially since he had come over to my house the night before and partaken in the aforementioned great sex. Anyway, after the "heart break" (All of which consisted of many blunts, lots of Sierra Nevada, and dressing up like a Pussy Cat Doll to go to the bar and holler at men), I of course moved on in true slut fashion.
I was on my next cock within a week. Another ex boyfriend... yes I recycle more than Waste Management but fuck it. We'll call him Chode- for obvious reasons. He sucks in the sac. DOWNGRADE. Seriously though, I don't know what's worse, getting great sex with a fuckin idiot who rarely acts like you're alive, or having shitty two minute sex with a guy that you've loved forever, but always left with the feeling of angst to go home and get down with the Hitachi.
Fast forward two weeks....
Yet another drunken night at the bar... lots of drunken fool kereoke - you know the kind where there's no mic and you're just yelling the songs in the middle of the bar? - to Meatloaf - God help us all! - and Prince's Raspberry Beret. While at the bar, I ended up making out with one of my best girlfriends. I'm not a lesbian by any means, but damn, I never thought I would be that turned on by a woman before! She's hot and I always said if I was going to do it, the broad would have to be hotter than shit. All the while that this drunken lesbian scene is going down, one my best guy friends stood there, white russian in hand, mouth agape. I thought he was gonna bust one right there at the bar. Me and him go outside, where the girl that was just giving me a fuckin tongue bath tells him that him and me have too much sexual tension. He starts laughing, she goes back in, and he totally goes for it! Sloppiest, drunkest kiss in my memory so far... I wasn't ready for it... it slipped off the side of my face... and he looked at me like I had just ruined everything. . . Still in shock, I muster enough strength to not tackle his ass and show him how it's done, but to rather, just walk back inside the bar where i'm safe from making a drunken ho out of myself. So after singing, dancing and sexually harassing the 50 year old barkeep with the chesthair, we took off back to my place. After walking into a huge mess from the dog, the four of us - guy friend, girl friend, roomie and myself, then begin to strip and have a wrestling match. Nothing better than explaining to your friends and coworkers the whole week that the bruises covering your whole body are from a 4 AM topless wrestling match held in your dining room/kitchen. Anyways, it would seem that I was the butt of a bet made that night. The guy and the girl bet on who could get me into bed first. The guy won. He was great in the sac - well if thats what you call that romp. Best foreplay - especially for me being a lazy drunk girl, and then he lasted for ohhhhhhhhhhhh three minutes! can you fuckin believe? I finally am having good sex with a guy that doesn't fuckin suck and he can't keep it up that long cuz we're trashed? oh Jesus, cut me some fuckin slack here! To make matters more awkward, my dad showed up at the same time as we were finishing - cuz obviously I had to go fishing with my father at 5:30 AM and he has the best fuckin timing in the world. Then when I return from my fishing extravaganza - at which I almost passed out while riding my bike from exhaustion and would've went right into the nasty ass lake, my roomate informs me that the boy was knocking on her door at 6 AM screaming how he fucked me for three minutes. I only bring home boys with pure sophistication I tell you. The next day - every one of my friends who stopped by the house had heard what happened. I was his conquest and amusement. . . the worst part? I still wanted more!
Fast forward to present:
Guy friend/Three Minutes of Heaven jocks me but still is too drunk to even conceive fucking me nearly as much as I need. Chode jocks me and everytime he sees me anywhere is draped all over me like a fucking cheap suit. . . but he's crap in the sac and a flake.
OVERALL ENDING THOUGHT:
Is there not a happy medium between the two? Should I just keep going with the flow- even the flow is taking me nowhere? Or should I just continue to fuck whoever drunkenly jumps in my sac?
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