I've always heard that there is a first time for everything. This would be my first and last time "eating the box".
I was at this HUGE party that RichKid threw for the graduates of my high school and it was going pretty good - drinks with the buddies, relaxing with my girl, and just having a good time overall. A little before the party reached its climax, my girl and I finally got some alone time, which I was stoked on because she had been tugging at my zipper and whispering what she wanted to do to me in my ear for the past hour. I had never had a real sexual experience since elementary school (a french kiss in Truth or Dare still counts, right?), therefore such simple whims made having a girlfriend enthralling, I thought at the time.
Being a male, this motivated me to find a nice secluded and remote spot so I could put my money where her mouth is. The problem was that all rooms in his house were off-limits and were barricaded by furniture. To make matters worse, each bathroom was FILLED with vomiting rookies and broads that had to do make-up / take mirror-shots for their lame Facebook albums.
Desperation settled in, so I was left with one option: breaking into a room. Like a madman, I proceeded to rearrange furniture in order to gain access to a room for us to do our deeds. Lo and behold, it was RichKid's room. For a split second, I wanted to renege, as a clusterfuck of conflicting thoughts raced through my mind:
- Is this really worth it?
Yes. Completely.
- On a scale of one to douchebag, how big of a douchebag move is this?
Douche-and-a-half.
- What's the worst that could happen?
God-willingly, I get some pussy finally.
- How would RichKid feel about me being in his bed with my girl?
Who gives a shit, it's not like we're friends anyway.
It was settled -- my time has cum. I mean, come.
I double-take the corridor we're in and dip into the room, dragging Girlfriend in with me. It's dark as hell and we're both hammered, so we split up to accomplish separate tasks: she shut the door and I prepared the love-making space.
We stripped down to our essentials and got right into it. She was on top of me, and wanted to start with the fundamentals: oral.
She started... and I had to stop her about two minutes in. Not only did it feel like I was getting head from a chick with Cerebral palsy, I was slowly getting limp as a noodle. And every time she mumbled "Am I doing it ok?" with my meat in her mouth made me want to shed tears.
Just fucking great.
When I thought the unfortunate was over, it just got worse. It was my turn to go down on her, and I had about 10 seconds to figure out how to go about the chore. Trying to be optimistic, I thought it wouldn't be that bad. She's just my girlfriend, of two months mind you, and it was our first time TOGETHER. How bad/awkward/painful could it get?
Well, it got pretty bad/awkward/painful/etc. As I'm about to do the Moses (you know, part the seas and navigate the ocean), I got a HUGE waft of her vag. It smelt like... like... fuck, I can't even describe it, but it made my eyes water and triggered my gag reflex. I've never smelt one before, but I got the faint feeling that smell was a bad smell. But whatever, I thought love really meant something at this point in my life, so I thought I'd be a good boyfriend by gritting my teeth (not literally) and baring this pain.
Essentially, I crammed my face between her legs and began to l-l-l-l-lick it like a lollipop. After the second lick, I felt more like a victim than I did like a boyfriend. It was nasty as fuck down there! Not only had her vag stank, she didn't shave either. To top things off, her clit was so big I could've given it an Eskimo Kiss.
Just as I began to seek an exit strategy, one of the bouncers hired for the party checked up on the room. Thank God. After that two minute endeavor, which felt more like an eternity, I dismounted from Girlfriend, got my necessary clothing on, grabbed the rest and left the room as quickly as possible (thanking and apologizing to Bouncer profusely as I left), leaving Girlfriend to figure her own shit out.
Later on in the night, I ran into her. Both of us feeling slightly uneasy by the situation, we tried to talk it out. And by talk it out, I sorta listened to her plea.
Girlfriend: "Baby, I'm sorry about what happened. I know my performance might not have been the best, but I hope that you can see past what occurred."
Me: "...."
Girlfriend: "And as for my, um, 'area', well... I wasn't sure what to do with it. And after tonight's Hockey tournament, I had no time to shower."
Me: "...!?!"
That's right. Not only did she not shave, she let me eat her out after a long, sweaty, and sticky Hockey tournament.
Me: "What the fuck type of sick and twisted episode of 'Punk'd' is this?"
Girlfriend: "Baby, I love you. I hope this won't disturb our relationship."
I know what you're thinking. You're wondering what we did for the rest of the night after such a weird encounter, if I dumped her, and if I ever lost my virginity. Well...
1. We cuddled and dry-humped for the rest of the night in some lonely corner. Cute? No. Weak shit? Yes.
2. We stayed together for a month more. Yeah, took me a whole month before I learned that love in high school is non-existent.
3. No. It's still #1 on my bucket-list.
Oh, and lastly -- it's going to be a while before I dare to part the seas and navigate the ocean EVER again.
- TroubledChild
