There was a guy – for the life of me, I cannot remember his name. Really. – who was totally into me, but he was my roommate’s friend, so I was informed that I was to keep off him. Something about me “chewing men up and spitting them out” or some bullshit like that. He was cuter than he was hot, and he was sweeter than he was naughty, so it was easy to keep of him. Anyway. Time went by, I moved out of my roommate’s house (because she got married) and one day, actually while I was out partying with my by-then-exroommate and a dyke friend of hers, we met the guy at a bar. He saw me, I saw him, and before we even said “Hello”, we were making out. I remember he tasted like corn. Which was good, because I looooove corn. But that was also bad, because, well, you don’t want a guy’s tongue to taste like corn. You know? Well, anyway. We’re there, we’re making out, cute and innocent. I mean, it was hot and heavy, but there was no inappropriate groping, no unpleasant moaning, no show to be played out to an audience. My first impression of his was correct: cute and sweet. We thus decided he had to come with us.
Oh, wait. His name was Jared.
So we went on to other clubs, bar hopping, drinking whatever had the highest level of alcohol, and just getting trashed in general. After throwing up twice (I am so sexy like that) and after eating some McDonald’s, I felt better. I guess we all did. So we went on to my roommate’s new house to continue to the party. Her husband was somewhere overseas serving the nation. And there we were, loud music, more alcohol – and a bed. My ex-roommate fell asleep on the couch, so I felt it was my moral obligation to entertain the rest of the guests… the dyke and the guy who tasted like corn. It was easy to entertain them because the guy wanted me and the dyke wanted me. And who does not like a party where one is the center of attention, huh?
I threw him onto the bed and climbed on him – my skanky red tiny little skirt all the way up to my hips and my fuck-me-black-britches saying hello to the world. The dyke was not going to be out-done, and she flew onto the bed as well. While corn-guy grabbed my ass, dyke chick kissed me with such an amazing intensity – or maybe the intensity came from her caressing my tits and the guy fingering me. What the fuck do I know, right? Maybe she was the one fingering me and he was the one with my tits, I don’t remember. I do remember that the night rocked. That I was awesome – or maybe they were both so drunk they thought I was awesome. I didn’t do anything. I came a lot of times, god knows how many. My legs hurt like hell the next day, and I had hickeys all over the place. Oh, I have a good hickey story to tell… remind me! At some time the next day my ex-roommate woke up and everyone was gone. Including me. My new roommate came by so save me from all the good sex and took me home. She then lectured me for hours… about not having invited her!
And that was that. I never saw her again. Andrea, was her name. But I know that she tried to get into my ex-roommate’s skirts many times, unsuccessfully. And him, I’m not really sure his name is Jared… but I never saw him again. However, to this day (and it has been almost 10 years since that happened), whenever I eat corn, for a split second I think of him. And then I go brush my teeth because, seriously, who the fuck tastes like corn?!
The Blogs I Can't Publicly Post 