Monday, July 14, 2008

Rubbers....Who Needs 'Em?


So I've been mired in a terrible cold streak lately as I'm sure most of you know. Sure there's been a few make out sessions with fat chicks here and there, but nothing really noteworthy...until this weekend.

I had a family function to go to Friday night. Sitting me in a private room with all of my family members and an open bar is never a good idea. You might as well hand a bottle of sleeping pills and a plastic bag to someone thinking about committing suicide.

So after downing about three bottles of wine at the party, I decide to go out with my brother [Ya Ya], my cousin [Her], her boyfriend [Party Boy], and her friend [Roomie]. I figured it would be a great night to bust out of my slump because I was beyond smashed. When I'm that drunk I'm pretty much willing to do anything.

So when we get to the bar I start crushing Tanqueray & Tonics. I'm in the zone. We're all sitting at a table out on the back patio of the bar. A girl my brother is crushing [Melons] shows up. That makes two couples and Roomie and myself. We are sitting next to each other and begin to chat and flirt more and more as the night goes by as we are ignored during a late night, drunken lovey dovey mush parade by the others. We mock them.

Ya Ya and Melons vanish. Later on we find out they were crushing in her car in the parking lot. He must be taking notes. But at the time we had thought they left. So as the bar is about to close we decide to head to 7-11 to grab beers and head back to my Aunt's house since she's in Europe for several weeks. We're hanging out in the backyard crushing beers and cigarettes. Yes, I was that drunk, smoking cigarettes. We bring the festivities into the basement. Her and Party Boy are tired and head upstairs to go to bed.

Roomie and I are listening to music and drinking. We start making out. A cash register sound goes off in my brain. It's on. She tells me that we should pull the bed out of the couch. I agree. It's doubly on. As I rip all of the pillows and cushions off the couch like a tornado ripping shingles from a roof, a sudden rush of panic, fear, disappointment and blue balls hits me like a shovel. I've got no rubbers! I always carry at least one with me! We're talking about the guy that has a connie in his pocket when he goes to drop a letter in the mailbox down the street. You just never know when some totally desperate-for-cock vixen is going to sidle up to you, lift her skirt and go all spread condor on your ass.

After hating myself for several seconds, we're on the pullout bed peeling each other's clothes off, locked in an intense make out sesh. I decide that I'll have to punt and try to settle for a blow job. Of course there's nothing wrong with a good old fashioned Steamboat Willie, but I don't get to tack another victim up on my resume. Lesson learned. Pack heat everywhere, even if you're headed to a family function.

We're now naked and I'm on top of her. There's some heavy petting involved. We're fooling around, molesting each other. She grabs my johnson again but instead of buffing the bad boy up, she slips it right inside of her...RAW. Me likey.

Christmas just came early my friends, and so will I!

I'm shocked and astonished. I mean, I've known this girl for a long time, but shouldn't that give her more reason not to let me slay her raw dawg???

But I'm also psyched. I haven't had an order of sausage, hold the bun, in ages. Probably a good six to eight months at least. That excitement, plus the extra sensation is absolutely killing my performance. Out of nowhere she says she has to go to the bathroom. God, what luck.

She starts to walk up the stairs. As soon as she's out of sight I jump to my feet. I'm rushed and panicked. I start to run in one direction, than the other. Then I notice the door of the laundry room open. I run through it and look around. Thinking quickly on my feet, I decide to jack off as fast and hard as I can into the sink. I hear water running through the pipes in the ceiling above me. That's the toilet flushing! Fuck! She'll be back any second. I miraculously get the job done. Shots fired! Oh my, what a blast. Probably the biggest of my life. And not just a nice quantity, I got some powerful pumps. No time to bask in the glory...I ninja my way back onto the bed. Back in business. We get back at it and I slip it right in while I'm still hard. I throw down but don't finish again. I don't remember how the session stopped and there's a very good chance I just blacked out on top of her.

We wake up the next morning and she tells me she needs a ride home. I grab her hand and put it on my cock. She starts to tug it. My command center is telling me to launch a second attack so I slip it in again. Terrible performance. At the point where I'm about to climax I pull out and start to finger her. She thinks I'm just switching it up but I'm actually orgasming. But I held the hounds back, didn't fire the shot, so she wouldn't know. I slipped it in again. This time I couldn't keep it hard. Here I am, on top of this chick, with my penis turning into a limp noodle. I mean, it's not completely soft yet but I'd be lucky if I was flying it at half mast. I pump desperately trying to revive it like an EMT pounding on a dying person's sternum. No luck. We've lost him. The combination of previously orgasming and my heart saturated with red wine and gin did not help the cause. I wave the white flag.

As I'm driving her home, which is only a few blocks away, I'm recapping all the events in my head to an Avril Lavigne song that came on the radio. God Avril doesn't get enough props. I ponder why. Who knows. Roomie's been talking but I've been too wrapped up thinking about the aforementioned issues. I suddenly realize I never cleaned my cum out of the sink. It probably got dry and crusty over night. Oh well.

I may have lost the battle...but I did win the war.