I had gone out with some old friends - the kind that you hang out with despite being utter fucking losers - and had decided to drink from one end of Santa Monica to the other. This being my first legal drinking binge in the continental US, I approached with vigor. The first part of the evening consists of shitty dinner whose purpose was simply to mop up the booze we'd later consume, then a few drinks at Makai - an overpriced bistro overlooking the Santa Monica Bay. The glitzy whore train that is Friday night at Makai was far out of the reach of my confederates and, being the team player that I'd decided to be that night, we split for Barney's Beanery. The atmosphere' something that can only be described as "Post-Wisconsin-Shithole-Community-College Stupidity", but despite the presence of most of the lower-end of the intellectual spectrum, there's quite a few visually-appealing specimens of the feminine form. So we stick around. My friend and I approach the bar as the rest of the gang mobs the pool table, under the auspices of him buying me some Johnny Walker Blue apart from the rest of the gang (none of us are flush, so I have no qualms about accepting free drinks). But instead of the usual glazed-over eyes and belly-button piercings usually found behind the bar at Barney's, there's a little gem of a girl (5' 6", Brunette, C) who'd eyefucked the shit out of me on the way over. So I have to get the first round, and when my friend attempts to order something girly, I give him a verbal thrashing that the bartender (Let's-Call-Her-Sally) finds amusing. Hearing it was my birthday and being an unrepentant cradle-robber, she buys me a shot and, against regulations, slams one back herself. We chat for a bit as my disheartened friend mopes back to the group with drinks, and she tells me she'll be off around two and would I like her to come over afterwards? I say maybe and take her number then go back to suck at pool for an hour and drink myself into an increasing stupor.
After my friends strike out, I decide it's time for Buster to call it a night, but on my way out I stop by Sally to confirm. We joke around a bit in an innuendo-ridden exchange and as we drink another Mind Eraser (Vodka, Kahlua, and Tonic), she says something stupid like "I can swallow anything." Music to my ears. I tell her I'll scoop her up when she gets off, so I do.
Driving back to my place is agonizingly difficulty given the booze, the hour, and the fact that the little minx to my right is alternating her lips between the flask of Everclear I had at the time, and a terrifyingly competent dose of road head. "This girl's a freak," I think to myself, "We might just have to get hitched!"
We make it back to my house and stumble in, where we make out with each other's dry, boozy faces for a few minutes, then I make a joke about her swallowing anything I give her. She laughs and tries to do something stupid like retain a shred of her dignity, but I'm not having any of that. By the grace of God we make it into my room, where I set my brand-new laptop (ah, what the illusion of wealth will do to a girl's thighs) to play some Chet Baker. She leans me back over my bed, says she's going to give me the best blowjob of my young life. Yeah, yeah. But her effort is earnest, and she works valiantly to make me squirm like a little girl. For the most part, she succeeds, but when I feel the throes of ecstasy working up my taint, I decide to wrap my hands in her hair and pump away instead of issuing the usual courtesy tap. She's pretty sauced too, but not nearly enough to not understand what's going on. She pulls back and, since I'm about to come and don't really care what she feels like doing, keep pumping as I stand up.
This is a bad idea because:
A) I have very little muscular control when I'm coming into a girl's mouth.
B) I'm shitfaced, so said muscular control is even less effective.
C) She really, really doesn't want to swallow my load.
As I stand up, she points my dick away from her and screams half of a "No!" before getting the first squirt into her mouth, when she grabs her throat, slaps my dick away, and stumbles backwards. I fart, the loudest, raunchiest, gnarliest fart that's ever come out of a human orifice, and keep coming. Another rope hits her in the face then, given the momentum my dick has from her cock-slap, I unwittingly aim my dick at my new $2,000 laptop and finish the third, fourth and fifth ropes onto its screen. The combination of shock, semen, and asshole stench have caused this poor girl to lose her shit completely, and with a face that looks like it's been freshly-doused in pepper spray, she falls ass-first into my Ikea trashcan, where she teeters for a moment before falling, trashcan attached to her ass, onto the ground.
Suffice it to say, I never saw her again.
After my friends strike out, I decide it's time for Buster to call it a night, but on my way out I stop by Sally to confirm. We joke around a bit in an innuendo-ridden exchange and as we drink another Mind Eraser (Vodka, Kahlua, and Tonic), she says something stupid like "I can swallow anything." Music to my ears. I tell her I'll scoop her up when she gets off, so I do.
Driving back to my place is agonizingly difficulty given the booze, the hour, and the fact that the little minx to my right is alternating her lips between the flask of Everclear I had at the time, and a terrifyingly competent dose of road head. "This girl's a freak," I think to myself, "We might just have to get hitched!"
We make it back to my house and stumble in, where we make out with each other's dry, boozy faces for a few minutes, then I make a joke about her swallowing anything I give her. She laughs and tries to do something stupid like retain a shred of her dignity, but I'm not having any of that. By the grace of God we make it into my room, where I set my brand-new laptop (ah, what the illusion of wealth will do to a girl's thighs) to play some Chet Baker. She leans me back over my bed, says she's going to give me the best blowjob of my young life. Yeah, yeah. But her effort is earnest, and she works valiantly to make me squirm like a little girl. For the most part, she succeeds, but when I feel the throes of ecstasy working up my taint, I decide to wrap my hands in her hair and pump away instead of issuing the usual courtesy tap. She's pretty sauced too, but not nearly enough to not understand what's going on. She pulls back and, since I'm about to come and don't really care what she feels like doing, keep pumping as I stand up.
This is a bad idea because:
A) I have very little muscular control when I'm coming into a girl's mouth.
B) I'm shitfaced, so said muscular control is even less effective.
C) She really, really doesn't want to swallow my load.
As I stand up, she points my dick away from her and screams half of a "No!" before getting the first squirt into her mouth, when she grabs her throat, slaps my dick away, and stumbles backwards. I fart, the loudest, raunchiest, gnarliest fart that's ever come out of a human orifice, and keep coming. Another rope hits her in the face then, given the momentum my dick has from her cock-slap, I unwittingly aim my dick at my new $2,000 laptop and finish the third, fourth and fifth ropes onto its screen. The combination of shock, semen, and asshole stench have caused this poor girl to lose her shit completely, and with a face that looks like it's been freshly-doused in pepper spray, she falls ass-first into my Ikea trashcan, where she teeters for a moment before falling, trashcan attached to her ass, onto the ground.
Suffice it to say, I never saw her again.
3 comments:
thats the funniest shit ive ever read.
ejaculating and farting on a woman, then literally throwing her away...somewhere a feminist just burst into flame.
that's the idea...
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