I'll try to give a little backstory before jumpinng right in here. I'm 27 and I live in Pittsburgh, I work two jobs, one is part time as an accountant and the other is working as a field representative for AAA. I'm about as close to average as you can get 6'3" 200 pounds, I'm a fairly normal person. But I'm going to recount a few stories that have occurred over the years to hopefully give you guys a laugh or two while you waste away at work like me.
The Phonebook
This holds a special place in my heart because it is such an odd story. This happened when I was younger, I used to spin on the rave scene here in Pittsburgh. I started seeing this really quiet girl, you know the kind, very quiet never really says much when she's around people she doesn't know and all that jazz.
Well I begin taking her to the raves that I'm working and after a few months, she's still pretty quiet, but now I've gotten her into the whole recreational drug scene. For anyone involved in the rave scene you understand what I mean. When I would finish a set, there would be people that would just hand you sh[b]it when you got down from the platform.
So after awhile, she decided she had wanted to break out of her shell so to speak. She ended up trying quite a few different things(Acid, Exctasy, GHB, etc etc)
After one night at one of the bigger yearly raves here, we went back to my apartment. Bear in mind this was after a long *** night and we were both pretty f[/b]ucked up by the time we got back. So we're going at it and she says "I want you to use a phonebook."
I didn't understand what she meant until she rolled over and was on her hands and knees in front of me. So I'm behind her as we're going at it and I raise the phonebook up and slam it down on the small of her back.
I cannot describe the sound, all it was was a hollow thud, over and over again. So we continue going at it like this for about twenty minutes when a moment of clarity hit me and I realized what the f[b]uck was going on.
I looked around and freaked out and left a few seconds later, tripping my *** off walking naked out to my car and driving away without my clothes.
The Shouter
This one is actually fairly current(at least the ending is, the beginning happened almost two years ago) It happened probably about a month ago. I'll tell you beforehand, I have no idea whether I should be flattered by this story or very afraid. Make your own conclusions.
I used to work at AAA with a guy named Kenn and a girl named Talena, and another girl named Melissa. Kenn is a homosexual and Talena is(pardon my language) a *** hag, while Melissa was Kenn's roommate. The three of them always hung out and hit the bars and clubs in town.
If they were heading out to Southside(local college bar area everything is in walking distance) I would go along with them most of the time. For a long time all three of them tried to get me hammered enough to go back to their place, Melissa trying the hardest of all of them.
As things often do, things happen, especially involving the bar and I ended up going home with Melissa several times(I found out later that the three of them had a bet to see who would get me first, which is funny because I'm straight) This is where things start going strangely.
The last time I went home with her, we were having sex when I thought I heard the door open. Being caught up with what I was doing, I didn't pay any attention to it. Until I rolled over onto my back and see both Kenn and Talena sitting there watching Melissa and I through the opening in the door.
I threw a steel toed boot at the door so they left for a few minutes and then sure enough the door creaks open again. I look up at Melissa and she says "I want to f[/b]uck you in front of them." The thing with Melissa is that she is disgustingly hot, but she's also a freak about almost everything.
So at that point, I'm pretty weirded out by the whole situation. So I grab Melissa and drag her into the bathroom and lock the door while we finish up in there. I left right afterwards and didn't talk to them again until a mutual friend called me a few weeks ago.
So I start talking to her when she says I have someone who wants to talk to you. I'm like alright whatever. Kenn gets on the phone and proceeds to tell me he found the gay version of me at a gay bar downtown. He then tells me that while he was having sex with this guy that he shouted out my name three different times.
I said thank you for the flattery and got off the phone with him and turned my phone off. Haven't spoken to them since but I randomly ran into Melissa downtown the other day with my current girlfriend talk about f[b]ucking awkward.
The Stinkfist
This one is probably the most gruesome, but also the funniest in my personal opinion. This happened when I was a freshman in college. I was seeing this Catholic schoolgirl named Mary, she was still a senior in high school at the time. We had been together for about eight or nine months before we broke up.
The weekend after we broke up I called this girl named Heather. I met her at school and though her face was nothing special, she had a very nice body. She and I had fooled around plenty of times but had never really gone any further.
So most of you can attest when you break up, you're looking for that sure thing right afterwards to work out your frustrations. So I call Heather up and she heads on over.
Within probably about twenty minutes of her getting there, we were already hot and heavy into it. Now every guy here will verify, you always check the water before you dive in.
So I reach down, and bring my hand back up. I get a whiff of the most horrendous smell on the face of the earth. A smell I have thankfully never encountered since this occurance. It literally smelled like something crawled up into her pu[/b]ssy and died.
So she is sitting there going down on me and I am staring at my hand. I could smell it to the point where I was on one side of the bed with Heather and my left hand was stretched as far as humanely possible away from me.
Meanwhile poor oblivious Heather is still going down on me while I'm trying to think of a way around the smell. I thought about laying on it behind my back, but then my back would reek. I was going to put it in one of the pillowcases but I didn't want my pillows f[b]ucking reeking either.
So she stops going down on me and is about to straddle me when the thought hits me like a ton of bricks. If she does this, the little admiral is going to reek. So I tell her to stop before she damages my little buddy byond repair and I tell her the words that nobody has the balls to say.
"I'm sorry, I'm not ready for this. It's not you, it's me." and I tossed her out.
But wait, the story isn't over yet. I get dressed without touching anything with my left hand and run down to the basement. I grab that soap that smells like oranges with the grit in it so it rips off the layers of dead skin and sh[b][/b]it and I scrub the hell out of my hand under scalding hot water.
It didn't work. My hand smelled for four days after this happened. She tried calling me a few times after that but I never wanted to talk to her after that, go figure.
But that's my attempt to give you guys a chuckle if you're stuck at work like I am. My thanks once more to you guys for keeping me and countless others entertained while we toil away
*Edited because I'm a dolt.
Edited, Mon Jan 30 17:56:43 2006 by Buffyisagoddess
