#‘happy birthday beej i miss you’ WHAT

[majortuttle]

BJ’s been looking forward to this particular mail call for some time now, and the wait has been well worth it.

“Listen to this, Beej — Listen! ‘The Crabapple Cove Courier has learned that one of her native sons, Captain Benjamin Franklin ‘Hawkeye’ Pierce, M.D., son of Daniel Pierce, M.D., has been serving tirelessly in Korea as the Chief Surgeon of Mobile Army Surgical Hospital Unit 4077, which holds the record of having the highest survival rate of any such unit in the Pacific. Marine Gunnery Sergeant and Purple Heart recipient Willie Brees, of Bangor, credited Captain Pierce with not only successfully saving his leg after a grueling firefight, but going so far as to show off his a trademark Pierce besides manner with Brees during his recovery, often reading to him from his most recent issues of this very paper!’”

Hawkeye steps up onto Charles’ cot like it’s little more than a soapbox, snapping open the newspaper wide.

“Beej! This is unbelievable — I’m on the front page! Me! This says Mayor Tillet’s planning to give me the key to the city when I get home! ‘He’s doing Maine proud, and everyone should know how lucky we are to have someone like Ben Pierce looking after our boys’. Beej!”

BJ tries to keep his grin in check, but Hawkeye clocks his reaction immediately. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing — Nothing! I’m just happy for you,” BJ shrugs, palming the skein of yarn in his hands like a football to hide his delight. “Happy Brees followed through.”

“Followed through on what?”

“Brees asked me how he could thank you, I told him your birthday was coming up and I’d appreciate it if when he got home he could make sure Maine knew what a swell guy they’d leant us.”

BJ turns his attention to the yarn to keep from showing too much of his own delight, realizing a half-second too late he’s also missing Hawkeye’s reaction. When he does look up from the wool in his hands, Hawkeye is staring at him with an inscrutable expression.

“Beej,” Hawkeye crosses the tent with the paper still delicately held in his hands. “You did this?”

“I mean, not me,” BJ backtracks, “Brees did the leg work and you did the surgery, but I, well . . .”

“You told him about me.” Hawkeye finishes softly, handing over the paper; BJ’s eyes track immediately to the photo of younger, darker-haired Hawkeye in his Class A’s, standing with a beaming Daniel Pierce in front of what must be the elder Pierce’s practice. “You asked him to do this?”

“. . . I did.” BJ apologizes. “I’m sorry, Hawk, I don’t know if I overstepped, here. He just really wanted to — ”

BJ’s fully ready to beat a retreat from the Swamp, certain he’s pulled the wind from Hawkeye’s sails, when he finds himself wrapped up tightly in the man’s arms, Hawkeye’s face buried in the hollow of BJ’s neck.

“This is the best birthday present anyone’s ever given me,” Hawkeye whispers, lips catching on the stubble of BJ’s throat. “I’m including the bike my dad gave me for my ninth birthday and the record player Carlye stole from her brother.”

“Everyone should know who you are, Hawk,” BJ returns the hug, unable to keep himself from burying his face in Hawkeye’s hair. “Everyone should know how amazing you are.”

“You’re amazing,” Hawkeye sniffs, hands still clutching at BJ’s back. “God, what my life would have been like if your sorry face hadn’t shown up.”

“Horrible, I know.”

It occurs to BJ that they’ve been hugging for longer than might be strictly appropriate when Hawkeye shuffles slightly but still doesn’t release him. BJ, in turn, stays put, though he does tempt fate when he slides his hands low to rest them on the Hawkeye’s waist, a move that does not go unnoticed if the hitch in Hawkeye‘s breathing is anything to go by.

“Happy Birthday, Benjamin Franklin Pierce,” BJ whispers against Hawkeye’s ear. “To this one and many, many more.”

[make-me-imagine]

🍫13 Days of Halloween: Day 6

Prompts: “Where is all the Halloween candy?” “I don’t know” “Y/n”  

((Prompt changed slightly to match characterization))

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Reader x M*A*S*H Unit (Platonic)

Gender: Neutral      Triggers: None

Words: 1,585     Genre: Humor; Hijinks

Note: Thank you for requesting M*A*S*H! I hope I did it justice~ The time-line might not match up, but whatever. 

You sat down with a sigh as Hawkeye and B.J. fixed themselves a drink, Radar scribbled on his notepad, while Potter sat nearby tapping his finger against his chin. 

“So after post op, we’ll invite the nearby villagers, hand out a bunch of candy to the kiddies, and then we’ll have ourselves a nice party” Potter recited as Radar nodded along.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan” you replied “How does Frank feel about it?” 

“He doesn’t know yet” Hawkeye said, coming to sit next to you “We don’t think it’s necessary to tell his highness, he’ll complain about it either way”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll think it’s a grand idea” B.J. suggested as he sat on his own cot. 

“It’s Frank, B.J., his grand idea of a Halloween party would include everyone dressed in their fatigues dancing 6-feet apart to the tune of the star spangled banner.”

You smiled at Hawkeyes comment as he turned to you “So Y/n, have you decided what you’re going to wear?”

You shrugged “Probably something in a khaki color” you tugged on your pants as you spoke, knowing you had nothing to really wear. 

“Oh come on, you gotta dress up, we are!” B.J. said

“I’d love to dress up Beej but I have nothing to wear, I ordered a costume but it never came, I asked Klinger but he’s already given half of his clothes to the rest of the camp to wear.”

Hawkeye patted your leg, leaving his hand on your knee “We’ll find something.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to wear something you’d suggest” you replied with a note of suspicion. 

Hawkeye gave you an offended look “I have great taste in clothes!”

“You’re idea for a costume would be my birthday suit.”

“Oh, now that is an idea” he replied with a smirk, making you roll your eyes.

“Uh, Sir” Radar spoke up

“Yes Radar.” Potter asked

“There is just one problem with all of this” 

“What’s that Radar? You’re costume come in the wrong size?” B.J. quipped.

“Huh? Oh, no it's fine, well actually it is a little big, but that’s not it, I just, uh but  the requisition order for Halloween candy never came in. We’ve got some, but not enough for all the kids and for our party” 

You frowned at the news “And everyone donated money and or candy already?” 

“Yep, I mean everyone but Major Burns, but that’s because he still doesn’t know about the party”

You, Hawk and B.J. all exchanged knowing looks. Just as you did Frank came bumbling into the swamp, large package in hand “What’s that Frank?” Hawkeye asked.

“None of your beeswax!” Frank yelled aggressively, turning, he sees Potter “Oh, Colonel, hello”

You chuckled quietly at his sudden change in demeanor as he set down the package with a thud. “What’s in the box Burns?” Potter asked repeating Hawkeyes question.

“Oh. Uh, just a package from home” he answered as he began to open the package. 

“That’s nice. Well, in other news, Frank, we’re thinking of throwing a little soiree for Halloween, you got any candy you can donate, or money so we can buy some?” Potter asked. 

“A soiree? Sir that’s highly un-military” you and the others rolled your eyes as he began “And to answer your question, no, I don’t have any candy to donate, and I wont donate any money for your party” just as he answered, he opened the box, which was chock full of various candy bars and other bags of Halloween candy.

You and the others stood and hovered as you pointed at the box “Now you do!”

“What?! No, this is from my family, you can’t have it!”

“Oh come on Frank” Hawkeye began “We don’t want it all, just donate some! There’s no way you can eat all that yourself!”

“Just watch me!” Frank yelled as he stood, box in hand as he exited the swamp, dropping a couple pieces of candy on the way, which Radar scooped up.

You and the others exchanged annoyed looks as you watched Frank run across the courtyard, clearly towards Margaret’s quarters. “Oh, we’ll get that candy Frank” Hawkeye muttered quietly, so only you and B.J. could hear.

-

After a few failed attempts at retrieving the candy from Frank, Hawkeye and B.J. were about to give up, but tried one more time the day of the party as they cornered Frank in post-op “Where’s the candy Frank?” Hawkeye asked. 

“We just want some, for the kids Frank, think of the kids!” B.J. cut in.

“I don’t care, they’re not my kids! It doesn’t matter anyway, I ate it all” Frank said with a smug look on his face. 

Hawkeye scoffed “Frank if you ate all that candy then you’d be comatose.”

Frank scowled at Hawkeye as he turned to leave, Hawkeye and B.J. shared an exasperated look as they followed him out. Looking around, they see the nearby locals arriving, kids excited for having been told they’d be given candy.

“Frank, what can we do for you to to grow a heart and donate some of that candy?” B.J. asked.

Frank turned, seeming to think it over “You can’t make any jokes at me for the next month! And you must act accordingly in my presence, salutes and all!” 

Hawkeye and B.J. shared a look of disdain “Fine, fine! Just show us the candy Frank” B.J. muttered out

Frank smirked at them as he turned, leading them towards Margaret's tent, where he had been hiding the candy. You had been walking across the camp as came across them “What’s up guys?” 

“Frank agreed to give us some of the candy”

“Oh, is that so?” you asked, something in your voice that made B.J. and Hawkeye hesitate, but continued to follow Frank as you tagged along.

Entering into the tent, Frank opened up the closet pulling out the box. As he opened it, the three of you stood behind him watching. Hawkeye glanced at you, you met his eyes for a moment and smirked, making him curious. 

“Hey!” Frank called, earning all of your attention.

He dumped out the box, and all that fell out were some cans of corn and some loose pieces of candy. “He really did eat it all” B.J. muttered in disbelief. 

“Or maybe Margarete had a midnight craving” Hawkeye quipped before looking down at Frank “Where’s the candy Frank?” he asked, clearly frustrated.

“How am I supposed to know, it was in here earlier!”

“Maybe the candy-man took it” you joked, clearly not bothered by the missing candy. 

Hawkeye and B.J. looked at you, gathering you had something to do with it. And so did Frank. Standing, he eyed you “Where is the Halloween candy?” 

You looked at him, feigning offense while shrugging “I don’t know”

“Captain L/n” Frank began, pointing his finger at you, stopping only when the sudden sound of happy yelling children distracted you. 

Frank walked away, looking out of the tent, seeing a large group of kids jumping around as Father Mulcahy and a few nurses began handing out candy. Frank squinted as he looked closer “Hey! That’s my candy!”

As this was happening Hawkeye and B.J. looked back at you, amusement on their faces, knowing you had to be the one to do this. You looked at them, winking as they laughed out loud. 

Frank turned in anger, pointing his finger at all of you “I know you did this, you stole from me. After I get back my candy, I- I’ll, I’ll have you all on report!” 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna go take your candy back from those kids Frank?!” B.J. asked incredulously. 

“I know you have stooped low before Frank but don’t tell me you’d actually take candy from a baby?” Hawkeye asked.

Frank opened his mouth to speak but stopped, turning and looking at the kids and then turning back “Well, why shouldn’t I? It’s my candy!”

You all rolled your eyes, as Margaret jogged up, “Oh, Major Burns you are so kind!”

“Oh, uh, thank you Margar- Uh I mean Major Houlihan, but uh, what are you talking about?” 

“Well, Captain L/n told me you had donated all that candy, and now look at all the kids they’re having so much fun!” she spoke with a wide smile.

Frank, Hawk and B.J. all turned to look at you as you stared at Frank with a blank face, hands in your pockets “Frank certainly is a kind and generous man isn’t he?” you asked, no emotion in your voice. 

“Oh he really is!” Margaret said as he smiled widely at Frank.

Frank hesitated, looking between you and Margaret “Oh, well, we do what we can Major” he feigned, taking the credit as you internally rolled your eyes.

Margaret suddenly pulled Frank away and towards the group of kids. Feeling pressure on both your shoulders, you look back and forth seeing both Hawkeye and B.J. resting their arms on your shoulder “Here we were, threatening him to give us the candy, and you swept in like a thief in the night” B.J. commented, still amused.

“Well now that that’s over” Hawkeye paused looking down at you with a smile “I’ve got a costume for you I think you’ll like” he smirked

“Oh no” you muttered. 

Hawkeye’s smirk only grew as he and B.J. shared a knowing look “Oh, yes”. Hawkeye looped his arm through yours as he began to drag you towards the Swamp, B.J. following behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Again, this was my first time writing for M*A*S*H, so I’m not sure if I did it justice lol, but I hoped you like it anyways. And please request more M*A*S*H in the future! I did enjoy writing for it and the characters!!

Please consider reblogging this, as this is a very small fandom, so reblogging it would be one of the best ways to spread it to other MASH lovers :)

[littledanette]

Hello! So today is my birthday and I was wondering if you could write me a Beetlejuice HC about birthdays? Would he even know what a birthday is? Who knows with this dork 😂 anyways, thank you so much and I hope you feel better!

Happy belated Birthday, darling!🎂💜

As for your request..... YES!!

Beej would absolutely LOVE to celebrate birthdays, especially yours! 🎉🎁

Beej Birthday HCs

He’s not really familiar with the concept of what a “birthday” is at first, of course, but he starts finding out about them pretty quickly - probably by seeing a birthday scene on TV, or a birthday photo in your house, or hearing someone talk about making plans for their birthday. He asks you why people celebrate the day they’re born - not because he doesn’t think it’s worth celebrating, quite the contrary, because he finds it fascinating. Because of his constant thirst for life in general, he actually starts getting a little jelaous... because he wishes he had a birth date, and he wishes he could celebrate it like everybody else.

That being said, as soon as he discovers what a birthday is, of course he asks you when yours is. It just so happens that your special day is coming up in just a couple of weeks. He doesn’t say anything more, but you can see the wheels start turning in his brain as he mumbles and murmurs to himself. You figure he’s just elaborating the concept a bit more and decide it’s no big deal.

But of course, he makes a VERY big deal out of it. During the following two weeks, he secretly starts learning as much as possible about how breathers celebrate their birthdays. He actually steals your computer once - because he can’t leave the house unless you summon him elsewhere - and literally spends the entire night googling videos, photos, tips and Pinterest ideas about “the perfect birthday”, his hair changing between a shade of giggly light green and curious streaks of yellow and orange. Basically, what sticks to his mind is that everybody has a different way to celebrate - the major most important thing seem to be to spend it with the ones you love, to do something special, and to get presents. And a cake. Cake seems to be pretty damn important.

The day of your actual birthday, you wake up feeling weird. You can’t figure out why, until you realize that Beej’s gone. He’s just not.... there. You look for him all around the house, but to no avail. You’re about to summon him when your eyes land on the clock and you almost freak out: you’ve overslept and have 10minutes to prepare yourself for work and leave the house! You scamble to get ready and forget about everything else, and right before you leave you decide you’ll deal with Beej later... even though truthfully you feel a little hurt that he wouldn’t show up specifically this morning, even just to wish you a happy birthday. It stings a little to think he probably forgot, but you try to shrug it off and hurry off to work.

Later that day, you come back home feeling exhausted from a particularly grueling day at work. Your boss requested and emergency meeting to yell at the entire office, your coworkers barely wished you a happy birthday, your two best friends suddenly cancelled plans for drinks that night because one caught the flu and the other had to work overtime, and of course the rest of your family still lives three hours away which meant you couldn’t see them until the weekend. Ah, and of course it’s now raining and the bus missed your stop which meant you had to walk two blocks under the rain and by now you were tired, hungry and soaked to the bone. Basically, you’d given up on your birthday all together, but as you close the door of your apartment behind you and turn on the soft light, your jaw drops....

....Beetlejuice is in the living room, hovering above a very, very large, puffy, bright pink/yellow/green tinted, sparkly birthday cake that towers precariously on the table set right in the middle of the room. There’s so many lit candles that you can actually feel the heat radiating from them. And that’s not even half of it! Looking around, you notice:

Colorful balloons floating around in literal flocks

A pinata hanging in a corner

A birthday banner stapled to the wall

Confetti spread everywhere. And I mean everywhere.

A stack of stuffed animals on the sofa

And last but not least, Beej wearing the most flamboyant, flashing and sparkling party hat you’ve ever seen in your life.

As soon as you walm through the door, he snaps his fingers and MORE confetti explode in the air!!!

“SURPRIIIIIIIISE!!!!” He chants, happily twirling backwards in the air “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, babes!”

He’s so excited because you look so geniunely surprised and because damn, he’s celebrating someone’s actual real life birthday for the first time ever!!!!

You’re so shocked by everything, it takes you a moment to react. “Wha-who...Beej....how did you.....!!???”

He floats over to you, the flashy hat glowing in different colors and playing a jolly tune, as he grins like a little kid, “It’s your birthday party!!!!!” His smile grows even more as he asks excitedly “Do you like it? Huh? Did I get it right? Is this what a birthday party looks like? Huh? Huh? Is this how you do it?” He lands on his feet, excitedly jumping up and down in front of you. Then, he looks at you and stops, frowning as his excitement fades, “Hey, babes....Why are you....why are you crying?” He asks, looking worried, “Did I...did I do something wrong?” He asks, fumbling with his hands and looking down, worrying he’s crossed some unknown line.

“Oh, Beej....” you barely answer, before throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as possible.

He’s confused.

But at least you’re hugging him, so that must be a good sign.

“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me....” you confess, pulling away slightly and sniffling a little.

“So.... you like it???” He asks, perking up once more.

“Of course I do!!!” You exclaim, hugging him once again “It’s the best birthday present ever!” You take a deep breath, thinking, then pull back away once more and look at him softly.

“Thank you, BJ...” you whisper, cupping his face. He starts to blush - actually blush! - and a strand of green hair starts turning pink. You give him a little smile, then work up the courage to stand on your tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the mouth.

He freezes for a second from the unexpected gesture, but then you feel him relax and he wraps his arms around you and pulls you a bit closer to kiss you back.

“Wow.....” he breathes when you break apart, “....Now it feels like it’s my birthday!”

You laugh lightly, kissing him again and thanking him before he summons a bottle of champagne and toasts to your special day.

He also cooked dinner.

And by cooked dinner I mean he desperately tried to cook your favorite pasta dish but failed miserably.... And then also tried baking the cake, but decided it was better to leave that quest alone after his first attempt came out of the over somehow simultaneously undercooked, flat, burned to a crisp, and overstuffed. He decided to cheat just this once and ended up using his magic powers to make everything appear.

You don’t care in the slightest. It’s amazing.

The two of you enjoy the food, drink from a neverending bottle of champagne, laugh hysterically trying to open the pinata, and end up on the couch watching your favorite TV show, with Beej snuggling closer and stealing a few other kisses, clearly loving this new step of your relationship.

Oh, he also got you a present: a bracelet with a shiny charm in the shape of a heart with BJ on one side and your initials carved on the other. You cry when you open it. He acts embarrassed but loves seeing how happy it makes you.

All in all.... Best birthday ever. 🎂✨💜

——

Like what you read? Did you enjoy the story? Do you want to support me and my writing? You can buymeacoffee! 😊 Thank you for your support 🙏🏻💜

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 15/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,784 Warnings: M for Mature Content, TW: Brief mention of previous injuries (not exactly self-harm, but similar in tone)

Notes: Naked house guests abound

Chapter 15 - In Which the Future Doesn’t Exist

It would be another few hours before Holidae gathered enough energy to pry herself away from the ghost’s hold on her; muscles and joints popping with effort as she sat up.

The discomfort had nothing to do with their activities, but everything to do with the fact he slept on a past its prime sofa bed. The rusty springs creaked loudly as she swung her legs over the side, causing her to wince at the sudden noise, and turn to check on her companion. He didn’t seem bothered; laid out flat on his stomach completely naked, but not moving around as though he had woken up. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most graceful pose he could have adopted, but it was entertaining to see him stark naked without a care in the world.

Did he even need to sleep, or was it just a habit to act that way around other people?

The sight of him so… vulnerable almost made her rethink her plans, wanting to just crawl back into bed and stay there for the rest of the weekend. However, the dried blood on her shoulder and other… fluids that had dried on her skin were not the most pleasant sensations for long periods of time. A shower was her goal for that morning, and then maybe she could treat herself to sleeping longer in her comfortable, soft bed.

Holidae gathered her clothes from the floor, tiptoeing across the room and down the stairs in the bright light of the late morning. Since no one else was home, she decided to have a little fun and commandeer the Deetz’s master bathroom, as it was the fanciest in the house. It had been recently refurbished, she had been told, with a double-length walk-in shower with multiple faucets. Not that she needed anything more than a basic bathtub on any given day, but it was nice to take advantage of the luxury while it was available.

Turning on the showerheads, she waited for the water to warm up a little, examining herself in the nearby vanity mirror. The bite on her shoulder looked nastier than it felt, but there were clear rows of teeth visible underneath the initial bruising. Luckily, it wouldn’t be difficult to hide it under sweaters and coats for the winter season. She gently ran her fingertips around each small puncture, her face growing red at the memory of them being so close in that moment.

Holidae stepped into the shower, carefully closing the clear glass door behind her, hissing as the warm water soaked into her aching body. It was such a delightful sensation; she closed her eyes and let the water run over her face and hair, eager to relax after such anxiety the night before. The more she thought about it, the more she felt silly for thinking the worst of him. Of course, the standard image of all demon creatures were ones of vile, nasty beasts hellbent on snatching the soul of the unsuspecting human. The thought always stayed in the back of her mind, but she never let it grow any larger than a passing notion.

She doubted he would go to do much trouble for her soul anyway. Probably wasn’t worth much.

Tap Tap Tap

The sound of a nail on glass caught her attention, and her head snapped around to the shower door, her hands grasping the safety bar to keep herself from slipping. There, pressed comically against the glass - still naked - was Beetlejuice, who smiled widely when he got her attention. Instinctively, Holidae tried to cover her more intimate parts, her whole body flushing red from the heat of the water and the embarrassment at being so startled.

“Hey babes~” He chuckled, squishing his face against the door. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve missed the floorshow! Awww, don’t cover up like that… it’s nothing I haven’t seen. Licked. Stuck my-”

She chucked a wet washcloth at his face, watching it slide down the glass a bit before hitting the ground, “What the hell are you scaring me like that for? I could have cracked my head open and died.”

“Well, then, it would have been lucky for you since I’m an expert at handling the newly-dead.” Beej stuck his lengthy tongue out, licking the glass in an obscene manner.

“Ew! Don’t… don’t lick that! You don’t know what’s on there!” Horrified, she tapped on the glass by his face, “Germs!”

Beetlejuice gave her a look before putting his whole mouth on the door, looking like one of those sucker fish on the walls of fish tanks. Holidae squealed in disgust, opening the door and pulling him inside the large shower space with her, pushing him under the spray of one of the water jets. Within moments, he looked like sopping, wet mess. His hair, normally tamed in a care-but-don’t-care fashion was plastered against his skull, the length covering the points of his ears and blocking out his eyesight. It was funny to see just how long his hair was without the signature fluffed appearance.

With a grumble, he jerked his head back, successfully moving his hair out of his face and splashing the whole of the shower space like an unhappy dog.

“…Holli-baby. Holly-Jolly. Babycakes. Babydoll. I’m dead.” Beetlejuice tilted his head to the side sharply, “I can’t get germs.”

She mirrored his expression, “The fine layer of dirt and mold you’re sporting on your birthday suit would suggest otherwise, Juice.”

He waved his hands dismissively, “It’s part of the package. Didn’t hear you complainin’ about germs when you were smothering me in the middle of the night. You were all arms and legs like a squid.”

Holidae grabbed the washcloth off the floor, lathering it up with a nearby bar of soap, “Me? I’m the squid?”

Beej made a show of sitting down on… nothing. There were no built-in benches or anything in the shower stall, but his body still conformed to the shape of sitting on a chair. Ignoring him, Holidae busied herself with gently cleaning around her shoulder, wincing at the sting of the soap, but managing to navigate the tricky path of irritated nerves. All the while, Beetlejuice remained silent, content in the fact she hadn’t gotten too angry at him for invading her private time. In truth, he would have been happy to be outside of the shower door, as was his original plan… but he didn’t mind the change of location.

Besides, he was not about to argue the amazing view he was getting of his breather soaping herself up. He knew for a fact that he hadn’t done anything to deserve such a treat.

Once she was finished, Holidae rinsed out the washcloth thoroughly, turning around and holding it out for him to use.

“…you can’t hang it up yourself?” He asked, confused by her gesture.

“Huh? No, you can use it. You know… for… washing up?” She sighed heavily, “Don’t. Don’t even say it. I know you claim not to be dirty and stuff but there’s nothing wrong with smelling like soap for a while.”

He hesitated, watching her with a raised eyebrow, “You gonna help me get the hard to reach places?”

“No.” Holidae’s tone was deadpanned to match her expression. “But I will let you sleep in my bed.”

Not wanting to push his luck, Beej reached out to take the washcloth, but stopped and wrapped his hand around her wrist instead. It was a quick, snappy action; like a snake darting out to catch a mouse. Startled, Holidae instinctively tried to pull her arm out of his iron grip, unsure of what he planned to do with the appendage. Keeping her in place, Beetlejuice tilted his head, inspecting the skin of her arm with a quizzical look. Thin, pale white stripes lined the surface area between her mid-arm and her elbow; some crisscrossing each other without a pattern.

“Lose a fight with a weed whacker?” The ghost let her arm go, taking the soap in hand, and attempting to make himself as clean as he could to her standards.

A muscle twitched in the corner of Holidae’s eye, “Used to have a cat.”

Slowly, he turned his full attention to her, the strange tone in her voice contradicting the perfectly reasonable answer she provided. It was… flat. Dull, but instantly falling out of her mouth like it was a programmed response.

Rehearsed.

“Tch, nasty cat.” He replied, giving his cleanliness the attention it needed.

The rest of their shower was spent in peace, Beej offering a slew of lewd jokes and breaking the tension between them almost immediately. He refused to let her dry herself off, stating it was his solemn duty to make sure she was dried enough to not slip on the tile flooring. Of course, he concentrated his efforts everywhere but her feet, causing Holidae to squirm away when the fibers hit the more ticklish parts of her.

By the time they managed to make their way into Holidae’s room, it was getting closer to sunset. She knew it was a bad idea in the long run, but Holidae couldn’t be bothered to make her way downstairs to find something to eat. The allure spending more comfortable hours in bed with her ghostly paramour was too tempting to ignore.

Beetlejuice was already settled in her bed, lounging in the “sexiest” way he could, fully nude with only part of a bedsheet draped across his thigh, “What’re you doing over there? Don’t get dressed! You’ve got all this sexiness waiting here just waiting for you to ravish it. I’m helpless, Holly-Jolly, powerless to stop you from devouring my body like a fine cut of meat.”

Holidae popped her head out of the neck-hole of her sweatshirt, rolling her eyes at the display, “I dunno, that side of beef might be past its prime.”

“Uhhhhhggggg, you’re killing me, babes.” He rolled over, stuffing his face into the pillow dramatically.

With a soft sigh, she climbed into the bed next to him, holding her arms open toward him, “You’re already dead, Juice. Now come here and stop complaining.”

With a pointed and loud huff, Beej wriggled his body over to her side of the bed, letting himself be enveloped by the warmth of her body and the softness of her sweatshirt. It wasn’t too long before he could hear her soft heartbeats within her chest, her breathing slowing to a crawl as she drifted off to sleep. He mind wasn’t about to let him relax along with her, far too preoccupied with their awkward exchange in the shower.

He made a mental note to ask Lydia about the cat.

Writing Tags: @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs

[spookytsubaki]

Gifts

@babes-week prompt No.3 Gifts. And what better to write about than anniversary gifts?  enjoyyyy

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An anniversary to anyone is obviously a special occasion. The flowers, the loving little notes, and the occasional gift. Lydia Deetz found she thrived when planning such things. She had been working on her idea for quite some time now; where to go, what to say, and what she would get her beloved friend. She knew oftentimes, she was the one who was planning meticulously for whatever idea they had set up, but she knew he wouldn’t forget something as huge as this.

After all, who could forget their own anniversary?

She had been able to keep everything hidden for the majority of the week, most of the time just stuffing the supplies in her school bag- then eventually her closet. However, she was surprised he hadn’t tried to pester her at all this week about it. She knew very well by now that anytime a holiday (or anything involving exchanging gifts) was coming, he would try to figure it out, to check all the knooks and crannies of her room, sometimes the entire house. However this year, he seemed almost unbothered by the fact.

Nevertheless, tonight was the night. She had practically raced home from school, ignoring any snide comments Claire offered that day. As she arrived home, she was quick to cover any mirrors that could let him see what she was doing. She then took out all the supplies she had stockpiled over the week: a little black book filled with all sorts of poetry and incantions (More for the mood than anything), A dark cloth, small red candles, a box of candied beetles, and two rings. 

While she knew these things were nothing too special, she figured the little bands might mean something regarding their friendship. She had specifically had them engraved (costing her a good two month’s allowance) and now they laid in a velvety striped box, safe from any peeking eyes. 

She lit the candles, set the beetles directly across from her, and took a breath. She hoped he liked it. She knew it was silly to be this grand over something like this, but he was a showman, and she knew he was always one to be loud and proud of his trinkets. And maybe a bit of her hoped he would see the intention behind the rings. 

So with one last look around, she cleaned herself up and sat down. She was ready, box stuffed in her pocket, candles drawing a lovely silhouette, she summoned him. 

“Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. 

Ghostly hauntings I turn loose,

 Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.”

For most of the week the ghost with the most had noticed his younger friend acting rather strange. He couldn't place his finger on it, but she seemed to be hiding something. He had checked the calendar Lydia had gotten him to see if any special date was coming up. It wasn't Christmas, Halloween, or her birthday. He thought that maybe it was that time of the month for her, maybe that was why she was being strange. 

With a sigh he sat on the old couch in the road house waiting for her to call him, yet she was late to calling him. He checked the time once again and groaned, what was taking her so long? He had missed her all day due to her being at school also known as  hell for her- at least in his mind. The ghost tapped his foot on the ground as he placed his head in his hands. What was his friend up to? As soon as she got home she always called him. 

That's when he finally felt it through his body, she was saying the magic words finally! Once that final saying of his name came he appeared in her room a big grin on his face. “LYDIA!” He yelled happily before yanking her into a bone crushing hug. “Why ya so late on callin’ me?” He asked, looking at the tiny girl with curious eyes. “Ya never wait this long babes.” He continued, still holding her close, not even noticing the whole set up she had. His eyes only focused on her. 

Little did he know he had really messed up on forgetting today.

“So whatcha wanna do babes?” The ghost with the most asked as he let go of her and spun her around a big toothy grin on his face. He looked at her with almost loving eyes as he waited for her answer. 

She watched as the green light filled the room, giving her ghoul a grand entrance as usual. She was excited to see his reaction to everything when he finally took it all in. She should’ve known better than to expect him to just sit down so they could exchange their gifts. As she was tackled in a hug, soft laughs escaped her. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I had a lot to do! That’s all!” She explained a big grin on her face. She was sure he remembered. Why wouldn’t he? He was always so good about this stuff- considering it was probably one of the only things that kept him out of trouble. She sat back up, fixing her hair as she kept that chipper little smile on her face. When he asked what she wanted to do, however, she gave him a confused look. She thought she made it pretty clear with how everything was set up. Maybe he was just playing a game with her. 

“Well, I was thinking we could stay here and hang out, after a long day there’s nothing I’d rather do than hang out with you.” She quipped sincerely, fidgeting with the ring box in her pocket. She hoped he would get the idea of this gift. After this year, and certain events ensued, the tension of their relationship had thickened quite a bit.  That wasn’t to say they weren’t still thick as thieves, but every hand brush, every meaningful look, every scheme, one of them was always looking out for the other’s signals. 

He felt his dead heart melt at her words. That was his favorite thing to do with her anyways, just hang out. As he finally looked around he noticed the set up and looked a bit confused, an interesting way to hang out he thought. “What’s this for?” He asked his face still confused as he looked back at her. 

His eyes then landed on the black and white box she held, he tilted his head like a dog. “Fancy box, is it for me?” He asked with a small chuckle. Now he was curious as to what his lovely best friend had planned for him. Maybe there was something special going on today? His birthday? No, no couldn't be that. Maybe it was some mystical holiday she knew about and wanted to celebrate it. 

Whatever it was he was curious as to what if was.  

Lydia frowned slightly when her friend asked her what the set up was. Was he really continuing this game? She looked around at the ornate details she had included. She was fine with playing it this way, it just seemed a bit odd. “For ambiance.” She answered noncommittally with a shrug. 

She had mindlessly taken out the ring box in the process of her getting lost in thought. She stroked the velvet as if using almost for meditative purposes; that is, before she was drawn from her thoughts by his raspy voice. She looked at the box as he gestured to it, as if it had just been placed in her hand. 

“Uhm yeah..But why don’t we wait for a few..” she chuckled nervously, wanting to now back out of her plan. Who was she kidding? She was a child. Why would he like her? She shook away these thoughts. Now was her chance to give it to him, if only she could work up the nerves now. 

“Oh! I got you something else as well! That was the last one in store, apparently beetles are quite a popular sweet.” She teased, handing him the box. This should buy her a little more time to work up the nerves. Besides, if they kept beating around the bush, maybe she would get an easy break. 

“Beetles! You know me so well babes.” With almost delicate hands he took the box and opened it picking up one of the beetles. He plopped it in his mouth almost swallowing it whole as he did. “The beetles are great babes, but I’d really like to see what's in that.” He motioned once again to the velvet box.

With one quick movement he grabbed the velvet box his curiosity taking over him as he needed to see what was inside it. He floated above her as he observed the small box wondering what could be so important in it. What did it have to do with this day as well? He questioned. 

“Why did you wanna give this to me today? What’s so important anyway?” He asked his raspy voice, still curious as he looked down at her about ready to open the velvet box. 

Her grin returned as she thought she distracted him a little longer, and could have her way with time. Unfortunately, it appeared he had other plans and was not so easily distracted. “You’ll see it soon I swe-Hey!” 

With one swift movement, he had snatched the small box from her grasp. She jumped, trying to reach it, but alas, being that short held it’s disadvantages. “Give it back! Come on Beej! I’ll let you see it soon! I promise!” she tried to bargain as she continued her futile attempts at getting the box. 

When he asked her what was so important about today it hit her. He didn’t remember. He wasn’t playing dumb, he truly didn’t remember. Her heart sank as she stopped attempting to reach for the box. “You really don’t remember, do you?” she asked softly, sobering reality setting in. 

Slowly he floated down to her and handed her the box back, he noticed how sad her face went. What could he be forgetting that was so important to her? “Remember what?” He mutters looking at her feeling bad for how upset he made her. 

“Lyds just tell me what today is, I looked at the calendar nothin’ was planned.” He mutters with a sigh. “Ya know I mark everythin’ down since ya got it for me.” 

She shook her head, feeling her heart shatter. Was their relationship really that insignificant? She had put so much thought into it. And he forgot. She handed the box back to him and gave a pitiful chuckle. “Forget it.  Here’s your gift. Happy anniversary Beetlejuice.” She mumbled, brushing past him. How could he forget?

The rings sat in the box, untouched, and engraved in delicate silver letters was the phrase:

‘Till Death do us apart’

[cherryaire]

I heard about the prompts for Dan's birthday, so how about either of these choices? 1. All of the Grumps give him a special present each from their own heart 2. Some great Egobang (because why not?)

I pretty much did both! Gotta drop Egobang in there because I’m 100% certified egobang trash!

Brian -

Dan looks at the rectangle package Brian has handed him. It’s wrapped in plain blue paper, and scribbled in the top left corner are the words “Happy birthday, dick.” He knows immediately that it’s a book, and if it’s a professionally bound copy of The Beej, Dan might actually go to jail for second degree murder.

“Of course you got me a book,” Dan says dryly.

“Open it, you idiot,” Brian tells him, and Dan sighs dramatically, if only to annoy Brian a little bit more.

His sass evaporates immediately upon tearing off the wrapping paper, however. Tears immediately well up in his eyes and he has to set the book down next to him on the couch because of how bad his hands are shaking.

It’s a signed, first edition copy of “The Last Unicorn.”  

Brian grunts from the impact of Dan practically tackling him and hugging him tight. “Happy birthday, Danny,” Brian says, petting Dan’s hair.

“Thank you.”

-

Later on in the day, when he sees Audrey, she excitedly gives him a stegosaurus plushie and wetly kisses his cheek before running away, cackling.

Barry/Vernon/Brent -

There’s a large box waiting for him on Barry’s kitchen table. He hasn’t been over too much since he moved, considering how busy they are, so he and Barry have planned to get some take out and watch shitty movies, just like old times. “What’s this?” Dan asks while he hangs his jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It’s a plain cardboard box, and the only indication that it’s something special is the bow that’s taped to the top.

“Open it,” Barry urges, not looking up from where he’s unpacking their Chinese food. “It’s from me, Brent, and Vernon.”

Dan grabs a paring knife from the block and slices through the tape. He opens it to find several items, and he’s not quite sure what everything is until he begins pulling out shirts. There are six old band tour shirts, plus a Kurt Cobain memorial shirt. There are three Rush ones, a Yes one that he could probably wear as a dress, one from The Cure, and one from Pink Floyd. Dan peeks into the box again to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and sure enough there’s a bubble wrapped parcel in the bottom, which he tears into once he gets his hands on it. Out spills more vintage band merch, this time a Rush patch, three Rush pins, four Def Leppard pins, and an Asia pin. Dan is smiling so hard his face fucking hurts.

“Dude!” he shouts, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “This is so fucking rad!” He waits until he’s sure that Barry’s hands are empty to sweep the shorter man into a tight hug. Barry laughs warmly and pats Dan’s back. “Thank you!”

“Brent and Vern helped me find quite a few of them,” Barry reminds him. Dan whips out his phone and snaps a picture of the pile of merch before sending it and a very enthusiastic thank you text to Brent and Vernon. Barry helps Dan refold the shirts and put everything back in the box so that they can clear off the table to eat. When they’re settled, Barry pipes up with “and now you can wear more than the three t-shirts you cycle through constantly” and Dan chucks a piece of sweet and sour chicken at him.

Suzy -

“Jesus, Scuze,” Dan grunts, taking the large, heavy package from Suzy and resting it on his coffee table. It’s at least two foot long and two foot wide, if not more. He’s glad that he’s got some open space on his walls left, otherwise he’d have to do a fair bit of rearranging.

Suzy is sitting on the couch next to him, curled like a cat. Arin is in his kitchen unpacking their dinner. “Has he opened it yet?” he calls.

“Not yet!” Suzy calls back. She turns to Dan with a childlike excitement on her beautiful face. “Open it!”

“Did Arin want me to wait for him or—”

“Open the fucking present, Dan,” Arin says from where he’s leaned into the living room. As soon as he’s appeared, he’s gone again, and the sound of clinking plates begins as he divvies out the food.

“Demandy Sandy,” Dan mumbles, but obliges. He carefully tears the black wrapping paper (why had he expected anything else from Suzy?) to reveal a gorgeous map of Middle Earth, set deep into a nice black frame. “Whoa.” He leans in close to examine it, finding that it’s incredibly detailed. 

“Do you like it?” Suzy asks, hopeful.

Dan wraps his arm around her and pulls her tight to his side before kissing her temple. She giggles and wraps her own arms around his waist and snuggles into his side. She smells like peonies and freesia. “Thank you, Scuzy. It’s beautiful.”

Ross and Holly -

While they wait for everyone to arrive at the office for Dan’s impromptu birthday party, Holly comes bounding up to him. Dan can’t help but smile at her. She’s so radiant and the happiness on her face is contagious. She’s carrying a box that’s wrapped in brown paper and decorated with birds. “Happy birthday!”

He takes the package from her and eyes the wrapping. “It’s almost so pretty I don’t want to open it,” he muses. He knows that she drew the birds on it, and it feels wrong to tear through someone’s artwork. 

“I taped it pretty simplistically so you shouldn’t have to tear it if you don’t want to,” she says, pointing to the sparse amounts of scotch tape on the flaps. Dan grins and slowly undoes the tape, taking care to not rip the paper. He’s gonna hang it up somewhere in his music room.

“Oh my God, Holls, this is awesome!” In his lap sits a Legend of Zelda chess set. He’s been meaning to get a chess set for a long time so that he and Arin can also play when they’re at his house, but he had never gotten around to it. He carefully rolls the wrapping paper and secures it with some of the tape he had peeled off before hugging Holly tight, causing her to squeal when he lifts her slightly off the floor. 

“You’re welcome, Dan,” she says breathlessly when he sets her down. “The only thing I ask though is that you let me play a game with you.”

“Deal.”

-

After everyone has had cupcakes and people have begun to clear out, needing to return to their duties or head out to prior engagements, Ross shuffles up to Dan and places two small boxes on the table in front of him. “Hap birth,” he says dryly.

Dan fixes him with an incredulous look before chuckling and shaking his head. He opens the smallest one first, and he’s greeted with a little blue ceramic stegosaurus. He’s a little goofy lookin’ and Dan is immediately in love. “Aww, he’s so cute!”

“It glows in the dark, too,” Ross says, and Dan gasps.

“It’s like the 80s up in this bitch,” he says, reaching for the second package.

“Yeah, if we’re talking about your age,” Ross quips, and Dan uses his long legs to his advantage, lightly kicking his socked foot into Ross’ shin. 

The second present looks so fragile that Dan’s almost afraid to touch it. It’s a replica of a stegosaurus skeleton crafted out of paper. It’s contained in a glass dome. “Dude,” Dan says, astonished. It’s like having a museum display in his hand! He makes sure to carefully wrap it up before putting it back in the box. He really, really doesn’t want to break it. Before Ross can escape, Dan has captured him in a hug, and even though Ross is grumbling, Dan knows he loves it since he’s hugging him back. “Thanks, man.”

“I mean, I needed to get the dinosaur some dinosaurs, right?”

What an ass.

Arin -

It’s weird that it’s two days past his birthday and Arin hasn’t given him anything. It’s not that he thinks he deserves something, but it’s very out of character for Arin to not give someone a gift of some kind for a holiday. He loves any excuse he can get to give someone something that will make them smile.

Dan has settled himself on the Grump couch while he waits for Arin to finish doing whatever he’s doing out in the main office. He scrolls through the subreddit with a smile on his face upon seeing all of the ‘happy birthday!’ messages. He’s hasn’t been super excited about his birthday since he turned twenty one, since after that there aren’t really any milestones to look forward to until you reach retirement age. Getting so much love from his friends and the fans, however, has made him enjoy his birthday a bit more since it reminds him just how awesome people can be.

Dan puts his phone to sleep when he hears the sound of the door opening behind him, and sure enough, Arin comes around the couch and sits down next to him a moment later. He’s holding one hand behind his back however, and he looks nervous.

“What’s up, Ar?” Dan asks. 

“I uh, I have your present, but before I give it to you I wanted to say sorry for it being late. There was a delay on it getting done for some fuckin’ reason.” Dan furrows his brow, confused.

“Okay.” He nods his head. “It’s not a problem, big cat. I’m just appreciative that you got me something, man.”

Arin smiles, and it lights up the entire room. His cheeks are flushed pink when he removes his hand from behind his back and hands Dan a hardcover children’s book. Dan is confused for a few seconds before he fully reads the cover. It’s the book he wrote a few years ago that Arin was going to illustrate. Dan’s mouth drops open slightly with a gasp, and he cracks the book open so that he can flip through the pages.

It’s professionally printed and bound, and it looks like something he could find in Barnes and Noble. The illustrations are fucking gorgeous. They’re not done in Arin’s usual style. Dan brushes a finger over the page, completely enamored. He doesn’t know jack shit about art, but he’s pretty sure that it’s hard pastels and watercolors. The colors are so vibrant and it’s exactly like he had always imagined. 

He only realizes he’s crying when he tastes salt on his lips.

Carefully, he shuts the book and sets it on the table in front of them before he turns to face Arin, who is watching him with bated breath. Dan doesn’t fully know what possesses him to do it—maybe it’s just because it feels right—but he cradles Arin’s face in his hands and kisses him softly on the mouth. Arin’s sharp intake of breath is loud, but after a second he relaxes and releases the breath. The sensation of facial hair against his upper lip and chin is strange—it’s very different, but it’s not a bad kind of different.

When Dan pulls away, he opens his eyes to see that Arin still has his closed. His cheeks are a lovely rosy pink, and his lips are parted and shiny. Dan can’t help but press a second chaste kiss to them.

Dan leans into Arin’s warmth and presses his face against his neck, winding his arms around the younger man’s waist and holding him tight. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says, and Arin shivers at the feeling of Dan’s breath on his sensitive skin. Arin runs his fingers slowly through Dan’s hair, making sure to not catch his fingers on any possible knots. Dan leans into the touch, a complete opposite of the reaction he would have had four years ago. The thought makes Arin smile.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it took me like, three years to get it to you.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dan tells him. “It’s perfect.” 

There’s a long swath of silence before either of them speak again. Dan feels the rumble in Arin’s chest before he hears what he says. “Could I kiss you again?”

He pulls back so that he can look at Arin. A smile breaks out across his face.

“Absolutely.”

all of dan’s gifts

[adambstingus]

23 Men Reveal The Absolute WORST Sexual Experience Of Their Lives

Found on AskReddit.

1. Her false eye popped out and I felt it on my balls.

Met girl at rave. Went to cemetery. Getting beej, she deep throated, her false eye I was unaware of came out.

Felt it on my balls.

Yes.

2. There was a swamp-green streak in her panties that smelled like a fish’s asshole.

Was back in high school. Things were getting hot and heavy until I tried taking her pants off. There was a swamp-green streak in her panties that smelled like a fish’s asshole. We didn’t even get to the sex part and I still consider it the worst sex I’ve ever had. It still haunts me to this day.

3. My balls got tickled by her fart.

With my now ex-wife. Standard sexy-time up to a point (kissing, boob play, a little oral), then I go to put it in. She farts. I felt it tickle my balls.

It tickled my balls, man. You can’t keep going after that. I’m a nurse and not much grosses me out but…My balls got tickled by her fart.

4. I lay there….unspent and sad.

Does masturbation count? Im going to tell it anyways.

I was having a dry period of about a month. I woke up after a really vivid wet dream and tried to rub it out.

I proceeded to slip in and out of consciousness for a good ten minutes, rubbing it until it is hard, falling half asleep for a minute, waking up again, rubbing it again. After those ten minutes, I just gave up. I lay there….unspent and sad.

5. I was gagging the entire time.

Was quite drunk and in a miserable period in my life where I’d fuck just about anything. Hooked up with a neighbor’s friend. She had dreads. I was gagging the entire time. Barely managed to finish. Showered for what felt like an eternity after.

6. She shit right in my hand.

I pulled out to give myself a break, we were in the doggy position. I started fingering her and she started to orgasm. She shit right in my hand.

7. I threw up on her snatch.

I went down on a girl and it smelled exactly like an Arby’s cheddar melt. I threw up on her snatch, and that wasn’t a deal breaker for her. It just made her want it more. She knew I liked it a little rough, from previous conversations, and so she straight up launched herself, puke beef cootchie and all, right onto my face and starts grinding. I was so caught off be-fucking-wildered that I froze, internally screaming this is a bad dream. This has got to be a bad fucking dream. Meanwhile in grind town, the aroma of Arby’s and half-digested oatmeal smeared my face as I finally screamed in horror and ran out.

You try getting that out of your beard.

8. She insisted on watching while blowing me.

Ended up losing my virginity to my first girlfriend while watching I asked her if we could maybe turn it off, at which point she removed my penis from her mouth and said, But it’s my favorite movie?

9. It was like my penis rolled a sticky tear.

I had a pretty sad jerk off the other night.

I guess my heart wasn’t into it or something but the run up to the orgasm started fine but then it just became a chore. I kept thinking about other stuff. My arm was getting tired. I farted mid-way through and the smell was a distraction.

I start to cum and it immediately got soft and just like seeped out. No energy behind it at all. No happiness or excitement. It was like my penis rolled a sticky tear.

Then my dick was like a sad old drunk slumping into a puddle of his own sick. I just sat there all heavy with shame for a few seconds as this gif looping on my monitor that, with the haze of arousal fizzled, was just awkward and weird. All titties being mashed and slapped around like they owed someone money.

Then I got a sandwich and played Minecraft.

10. I found out in the most painful way that I was in fact too big for her once her teeth shredded my dick and filled her mouth with blood.

Was dating a girl a few years back and after a month of intense make out sessions and heavy petting we decided it was time to take things to the next level. It started off well enough when she pulled out my junk and exclaimed I was the biggest she’d seen, and she was proud of her ability to deep throat and was insistent she could take me on. So without any warm up at all she tries to shove my entire dry dick down her throat and I found out in the most painful way that I was in fact too big for her once her teeth shredded my dick and filled her mouth with blood. We didn’t get to the sex part due to my crying

11. I accidentally told a girl I loved her and proceeded to have awkward coitus.

I was once having sex with a girl I’d been dating for a few weeks. I thought she said I love you so I was like Oh I love you too but she actually just said something completely different. She stopped dead and questioned what I’d said, but I just said never mind and carried on. TL;DR I accidentally told a girl I loved her and proceeded to have awkward coitus.

12. She kindly informs me I wasn’t in and was rubbing between her ass cheeks and sheets the whole time.

First time I ever did it. I was thrusting hard and doing well, so I thought. Then she kindly informs me I wasn’t in and was rubbing between her ass cheeks and sheets the whole time. I almost came from that.

13. I banged a hoarder in the closet of her smelly apartment. Afterwards she fished an old condom out of her pussy.

So, Im at a bar and I start working on a girl. Shes pretty hot. We dance, we drink, we talk. She makes it pretty clear she wants to go back to my place. At one point, she was even joking how its been forever since she’s been laid.

Im only in town visiting a friend and crashing on his couch so I insist on going to her place. Initially she resists the idea but I elaborate on the couch thing, plus he lives super far away, he doesnt have a car so I dont know how she would get home, etc., etc. Eventually she caves.

She lives walking distance away in a pretty nice apartment building. We go up the elevator and when we get to her front door she warns me that she shares a 1 bedroom apartment with a roommate and that, Its a little bit messy.

She opens the door; we go in and Im slapped across the face with the stench of weeks-old garbage and a pile of dishes festering in the sink. I have no idea how someone could live with that smell emanating from their kitchen but perhaps even worse is the whole place looks like an episode of hoarders. Junk is everywhere. It covers every conceivable surface, and is several feet thick in some places with piles of laundry and random items littered across the floor.

At this point, a better man would have called it. Thanked her for the lovely evening and taken a very lonely but far more sanitary cab ride back home. But its been a while for me and shes probably the hottest chick Ive ever landed. So instead her and I waded through the piles of garbage to make our way to her bedroom.

She leads me to a windowless room that I can only describe as a closet. Its barely large enough for a single mattress, which is placed directly on the floor. We are surrounded on all sides by piles of junk and clothes but Im relieved to be away from the chaos and stink that is her kitchen.

We go in and I close the door behind us and we are plunged into blackness. There are no lights in the room. She fumbles around and says Just a second! while she rummages through her purse, takes out her cellphone, activates the flashlight app, and MacGyver’s the worlds saddest desk lamp by propping it up on a pile of dirty clothes.

We get down to business. At this point Im so thoroughly disgusted with myself that Im having trouble getting ready for action. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), she sucks dick like a champ and we get things underway. I put on a condom and were off to the races. At this point all I want to do is blow my load and make my escape from this smelly dungeon.

Then she stops me: Wait a second I think the condom broke. My heart immediately seizes up and sinks to the pit of my stomach as I consider the possibility of being connected to this hot mess and her garbage dungeon for 18 years.

I withdraw and she sticks her finger into her pussy, fishes out a broken condom, and flings it at the wall. As shes rummaging through her trash heap looking for another condom I look down and I notice something. Im still wearing a condom And its totally intact.

tl;dr I banged a hoarder in the closet of her smelly apartment. Afterwards she fished an old condom out of her pussy.

14. I projectile-vomited from the realization I had been banging a 15-year-old for a month.

This one is sad and I’m disgusted with myself for a reason that will become clear. I was 21 and had been dating this girl who was 18. I met her mother and they were even talking about how they were planning her 19th birthday party and how she couldn’t believe how fast her little girl was growing up and her mom even said her daughter scored big time landing a handsome 21-year-old man yadda yadda. It was weird and felt like I was missing an inside joke. Fast forward a month and lots of pretty good sex.

We had left party at a beach house to fuck in my car. She gets sick and vomits at one point, super drunk, but thankfully she managed to vomit outside the car. We keep going at it, or trying to; I was drunk myself and drunk me and erections dont work so well, windows had fogged up and the car was rocking.

There’s a sharp knock at the window that I ignored, kept fucking. Then there’s another knock and its insistent. I get angry at this point and yell leave me alone, we are fucking! I thought it was a friend looking for us. Nope. I was met by a blinding light being shown and an obvious cop tone telling us to exit the vehicle.

Two cops were outside and asked if we were at the party because they had a noise complaint. Yup. I’m freaking out because she’s clearly wasted and she was only 18. I was 21 so I just knew I would be hit with a charge for supplying alcohol to an underage person. The dreaded question comes up. How old are you? I responded with Im 21 sir, but I haven’t supplied any alcohol to anyone but myself. Cop smirks but looks at my GF and asks her her age.

She looks around shyly, albeit drunkenly, and says Fifteen. It took me a moment to clock it but the cops looking at me wide-eyed confirmed what I thought must have been a misheard statement. The moment the statement was confirmed was met by a What the fucking fuck!?! scream of disbelief and projectile vomit from the realization I had been banging a 15-year-old for a month. She did not look like she was that young.

I immediately went on a rant about how I met her mom and how the fuck that was even possible. Apparently my reaction was so genuine that the cops believed it. They even had the girl call her mom and her mother confirmed that they had lied to me. All I received that night was being pulled aside by cops and a lecture about checking girls IDs.

15. The smelllike wet garbage in the hot sunhit me.

Back when I was in law school, there was a girl, M. M was a wholesome gal from Wisconsin: blonde hair, blue eyes, a slight gap in her front teeth. A real girl-next-door type (in the traditional, non-porno sense). She grew up on a dairy farm.

M was what we called law school hotlate 20s (and just starting to show it), slightly pudgy, finally trying harder to dress professionally than to dress sexy, generally attractive, but didn’t really stand out in a crowd. Her biggest assetliterallywas her awesome rack. To quote , they hung enormous, the way you’d think of God’s as big. Her daddy would have been lucky to have a milk cow endowed like her.

It was the end of our first semester, which for new 1Ls is a huge deal. (The stress during the initial year in law school is tremendous; if you’ve ever seen the movie Paper Chase, it’s 100% accurate.) The tradition at my law school was for everyone to saunter over to the bar a block away after their last exam and hang out. M and I had a friendly relationship up until that point, so when I saw her walk through the door, I waved her over and she joined our group of about ten or so.

At some pointprompted in part, I’m sure, by large quantities of boozewe of course started talking about sex, and because one of the guys with us was gay, the topic of anal sex came up. After a bit, M admitted that she had never tried anal. I was drunk and feeling saucy, so I said, ‘We should rectify that. Rectum-ify, she giggled back, and at that moment, I decided to put all of my drunken intellect towards coming in her back door before the night was out.

After a few hours our group was dwindling, but some of us were determined to continue celebrating for a while longer and M was looking like she was ready to head out. She needed to eat, she said, and was running out of cash, too. We still had about ¾ of a pizza left, and I was trying to convince her to stay, so I offered to buy her next drink if she’d stick around.

When I came back with her drinksomething with tequila, I believeshe turned to me and said, I shouldn’t be eating this, I’m lactose-intolerant. I hope you’re happy, because I’m doing this for you.

After that round, more people headed out, and M couldn’t be persuaded to stay. But I wasn’t ready to give up, so I offered to walk her home, since our apartments were next to each other, and only a few blocks away. When we got to her place, she invited me in. We went through the standard fooling around routine, ending up naked and horizontal in her bed.

Emboldened by earlier conversation, M’s apparent enthusiasm, and a large dose of alcohol, I eventually suggested that we try anal, and M agreed. After some shuffling, we ended up with her on top so that she could control the depth and speed, and for a few minutes, I was happily watching M’s magnificent mammaries jiggle around while she gingerly bounced on my rod.

After a few minutes, her expression switched from drunken sex stupor to pain and fear. Assuming I had hurt her somehow, I began to push her off of me, but she told me to wait. Sudden pressure and heat on my tool tipped me off to her digestive distress, and I could feel something trickling down my balls. I started to get up again, but she said, No, please. Stay inside. Just for a minute. I protested, but she was panicked, and begged me to help her to the bathroom before I pulled out.

We flailed around for a moment, and awkwardly switched to doggy style. We tried to shuffle to the bathroom, but drunkenness, the physical difficulty of the act, and the sheer ridiculousness of it all meant we didn’t make much progress. In a moment of inebriated genius, I hoisted her up by the hips and suggested she walk on her hands.

It turns out that wheelbarrowing a crying drunk girl across her apartment with your dick stuck in her ass isn’t particularly sexy, and a combination of internal pressure and my rapidly deflating member caused what is probably best referred to as an uncorking.

I watched in slow-mo horror as a fountain of diarrhea blasted out of her butthole, point-blank into my crotch. Spattering my torso. And my arms. And my face. And I dropped her. She hit the ground, hard, sobbing. The smelllike wet garbage in the hot sunhit me. I was painted from waist down with her special brand of brownie batter.

I was in shock. I just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at this poor girl, suffering the world’s worst case of mudbutt, crying on the floor of her shitty apartment, shit oozing out of her ass, shit dripping off of me.

But as horrible as the sight and the smell were, the worst was the sound. That sound will haunt me for the rest of my life. No language on Earth can approximate the cacophony of her crapping everywhere. It was a combination of the most over-the-top whoopee cushion, someone snapping gum through their teeth, and the glug of a water cooler. That sound blared above all, the way classical music plays during the hero’s against-all-odds rush into death in war movies. The sobbing was a distant drone, almost outside my notice, but the burbling of her bowels was deafening, in perfect sonorous clarity.

I must have stood there for maybe 10 seconds, but it felt like an hour. In a daze I pulled my pants on, then ran out the door. I mean ran. I sprinted. I left my shirt, my shoes, my socks, my boxers. All of it was abandoned in my mad dash to get home. People on the street saw me, but I didn’t care. I ran the 100 yards to my apartment door, past everyone, and I threw myself in the shower, and I cried.

16. She yelps like a pup and I spent the next 15 minutes cradling her as she whimpers, calling me an idiot.

Was having sex with my girlfriend at the time shes this cute little thing but really strong (she actually joined the Army later) anyway shes on top, I grab her and pull her to me and flip her onto her back and now I’m on top. She fucking loves it. She decides she wants to put her hands in my hair, small problem her one arm is in between my hand holding me up (This was spontaneous hiking in the woods and on top of a picnic blanket sex and not soft bed sex) and her body. She decides to quickly pull her hand out just as I was thrusting. She knocks out my support and I start to fall so I lift my other hand and throw it to center the balance. Her seeing my fall turns to her side so we dont whack skulls. Now this girl weighs 110 soaking wet, I’m 250lbs. My center balancing position threw my hand down at Mach 1 with 250lbs behind it directly onto her breast. She yelps like a pup and I spent the next 15 minutes cradling her as she whimpers, calling me an idiot.

17. I lasted like 4 pumps max.

tl;dr Couldn’t get it up and repeatedly embarrassed myself night after night for two weeks.

So I met this girl overseas. She was also American and was working in the same area I was. Short, great curves, cute face, overall way hot. Started talking to her on Facebook, and found out she was an awesome conversationalist and that we had a lot of personality traits in common. Unfortunately, things didn’t escalate quickly enough before I ended up going home for a few months.

While I was home, we kept talking of Facebook and really hit it off. Flirting became sex references became overt I want to have sex with you. This went on for like two months. We were Skyping and messaging all day long. We even discussed that we would be making out and banging as soon as I got back.

Finally got back and saw her again, and we immediately went back to my room and got down to it. 0-100mph in the space of about 10 mins, and we hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol.

I really liked this girl. A lot. Too much. So much that my nerves overruled my basic biological functions and I went soft as a bar rag as soon as she was above me about to put it in. Try as we might, there was no getting me stiff again. I’d never had trouble keeping it up (while sober) before and was highly surprised and disappointed with myself. I’d also never had this strong of an affection for someone before ever having sex with them.

Freshly inspired by some illuminating time with a therapist back home, I decided that honesty with her and with myself was the best policy here and just explained that I was nervous as shit and didn’t think I could be performing tonight. She hid her disappointment very well. We cuddled up and went to bed.

I woke up in the middle of the night, hard as a diamond, and decided to try again. Minimum amount of foreplay and I lasted like 4 pumps max. She actually thanked me for waking her up to try again!

I could get plenty hard enough when we tried from there on out, but as soon as the shuttle approached for reentry, all the heat shielding melted away, the structure collapsed, and the crew went down in burning flames. My nerves persisted with no sign of relenting with her over the next few days.

This saint blew me every day and I disappointed this woman who wanted my cock so bad every day for like two weeks. She stuck around enthusiastic and persistent (which blows my mind because she could have left and pulled any slab of hot meat she wanted) for two weeks. Expecting her to give up and leave made me even more nervous, but she never did.

Finally, in a night of just the right amount of tipsy, I pulled it off! Had drunk, short, sloppy sex, but I was mildly reassured that I at least was capable. Over the next few days, I gradually got over my nerves enough to at least keep hard enough to penetrate. When I was finally batting 100 instead of zero, we basically opened the floodgates and fucked at least daily for months. Sex got better and better and she stuck around.

She moved in with me last summer and I can’t imagine a cooler girlfriend.

18. We get 4, maybe 5 thrusts in before the girl’s friend barges into the room and starts screaming bloody murder.

Coincidentally my first go at sex…. Party at a good friends’ house, talk to a girl all night and end up in one of my friend’s bedroom, my friends were siblings, this is important because my friend had gotten in trouble earlier in the week with her mother resulting in her door knob being removed so she couldn’t lock the door. Things are getting hot and heavy, clothes are off, dick is slid in, and we get 4, maybe 5 thrusts in before the girl’s friend barges into the room and starts screaming bloody murder, for no reason beyond being a drunk high school girl encountering an awkward interaction, whole room rushes in as the girl sits, petrified, on top of my softening dick.

19. Girl blew me. Somehow she made it boring.

Girl blew me.

Somehow she made it boring.

Also dry like desert.

Painful, could not convince her to do something else.

Her begging me to cum had opposite effect it should have. Normally wind blows I cum, but not this day.

Finally take matters into my own hands (A, normally wouldn’t want to, B, she stopped me every time before she developed lockjaw an hour in) finish myself in her mouth.

Collapse from exhaustion and sadness.

She tells me she loves me.

This was our first sexual encounter of any kind.

Bizzaro world of future with her as my wife getting blow jobs I somehow don’t want every night flashes before my eyes.

I bolt.

She proclaims as I fade out of sight, that was the best I’ve ever given.

Her roommates were in living room, though I didn’t see them, I’m sure they shook their heads.

Sad.

20. The whole time I was thinking, Im gonna fucking die.

She was drunk, I was drunker, it was like trying to stab someone with a piece of soft rope, so I had some…enhancement pills, not a great combo being drunk, horny and all worked up so I basically ended up at near heart attack levels of strain on my heart, I mean I did it and she seemed happy enough, but the whole time I was thinking Im gonna fucking die, I’m gonna die fucking someone in doggy and pin her down with my body when I do.

Ironically I bet that made me last longer. Also when I woke up I was still erect.

21. And that, ladies and gents, is how I began the year of 2016 by contracting syphilis.

She was 5 foot nothing, perky breasts, and a shapely backside. Cute as a button.

She laid next to me on her single mattress in the dingy apartment room she was forced to rent in order to dance in the local strip joint of my home town. Both of us fairly hung over, though no less frisky for it.

As we lay there dozing in and out of sleep, and mumbling conversation her intentions for my company became clearer the more often her ass made its way to grinding against my groin.

Bedraggled state of affairs I was in, I tried to ignore her silent request for attention. Whether a result of anxiety at being in bed with a real live exotic dancer, the effects of my diet consisting solely of beer and cigarettes for 3 days solid, or a combination of both, junior was not up to the task.

However my companion was determined. Given her increased advances I refused to allow myself to miss the opportunity of bedding a stripper. Reaching a free hand into my boxers, I began to tug one out.

After a brief minute of awakening my member, I felt sufficiently hard enough to see through the task at hand. Rolling over into a spooning position I guided my cock to her awaiting opening, and did my damndest to enter her.

Unfortunately it became obvious that my wedding tackle wasn’t sufficiently warmed up, as I began pushing rope after acquainting myself with the first couple inches of her vulva.

Propping my would-be lover onto her knees, I assumed my position behind her and tried to go to work once more. I attended her vagina with one free hand while stimulating my rod with the other.

It only occurred to me after the first few strokes how long my willy had gone without attention. Before I could rethink my strategy-or convince junior to take any other form besides that of an over cooked pasta noodle-I felt an all too familiar sensation rushing through my vas.

I tried to clamp my trouser snake in a death grip as a last-ditch effort to stop the inevitable, but to no avail. Bat and balls pulsed in unison, erupting a fountain of jism far more enthusiastic than I would have expected given the setting. It was all over.

Kneeling there, unbelieving, I looked brokenly to the web of cum enveloping my hand and the considerable dollop on the sheets. My attempted consort still positioned patiently, eyes closed, anticipating more than the idle digit I had planted in her baby chute.

I did the best to compose myself, wiped the spunk off on a nearby scrap of fabric, and managed to splutter the words I need a cigarette.

And that, ladies and gents, is how I began the year of 2016 by contracting syphilis.

22. I found a long yellow dead piece of grass up my dickhole.

Was young and was having sex in the grass in the backyard, I felt a giant spider skittle across my chest and bucked the bitch off of me. Turned over and got up, later in the house I felt a weird pressure on my dick, went to the bathroom and found a long yellow dead piece of grass up my dickhole. Hurt the whole way out.

If youre going to have sex outside kids, put down a blanket.

23. The story of Vampire Girl.

Oh boy. Let me tell you the story of Vampire Girl.

Many years ago, I had just gotten out of my first relationship. That first relationship included all the other firsts – kiss, grope, sex, etc. Upon its ending, I was a total wreck. A pitiful mass of ridiculously maudlin sentiments. My friends kept telling me I needed to rebound. Get under someone to get over someone. You know the drill.

So a perfectly lovely girl invites me out, then we head to her place. I was not into it. I was and remain pretty much unable to differentiate the act of sex from romantic feelings, and I was still in love with my ex. So things weren’t really working down there.

This lovely girl takes it in stride, and decides that some kink will help turn the cooked noodle back into hard, raw spaghetti. Cue something that I, the veteran of one fairly vanilla sexual partner, was not prepared to hear.

Her: Do you want me to get out my whip?

Me: Uh

Her: We can taste each other’s blood.

Me: can we just go to sleep, please?

She kept stroking my face all night.

Listen, S, I don’t know if you’re reading this, but current me would have been willing to work a bit with the whip. Still no blood play. Sorry for being awkward as all hell about it back then.

Read this: 23 Women Reveal The Absolute WORST Sexual Experience Of Their Lives

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/23-men-reveal-the-absolute-worst-sexual-experience-of-their-lives/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/178460796597

[samanthasroberts]

23 Men Reveal The Absolute WORST Sexual Experience Of Their Lives

Found on AskReddit.

1. Her false eye popped out and I felt it on my balls.

Met girl at rave. Went to cemetery. Getting beej, she deep throated, her false eye I was unaware of came out.

Felt it on my balls.

Yes.

2. There was a swamp-green streak in her panties that smelled like a fish’s asshole.

Was back in high school. Things were getting hot and heavy until I tried taking her pants off. There was a swamp-green streak in her panties that smelled like a fish’s asshole. We didn’t even get to the sex part and I still consider it the worst sex I’ve ever had. It still haunts me to this day.

3. My balls got tickled by her fart.

With my now ex-wife. Standard sexy-time up to a point (kissing, boob play, a little oral), then I go to put it in. She farts. I felt it tickle my balls.

It tickled my balls, man. You can’t keep going after that. I’m a nurse and not much grosses me out but…My balls got tickled by her fart.

4. I lay there….unspent and sad.

Does masturbation count? Im going to tell it anyways.

I was having a dry period of about a month. I woke up after a really vivid wet dream and tried to rub it out.

I proceeded to slip in and out of consciousness for a good ten minutes, rubbing it until it is hard, falling half asleep for a minute, waking up again, rubbing it again. After those ten minutes, I just gave up. I lay there….unspent and sad.

5. I was gagging the entire time.

Was quite drunk and in a miserable period in my life where I’d fuck just about anything. Hooked up with a neighbor’s friend. She had dreads. I was gagging the entire time. Barely managed to finish. Showered for what felt like an eternity after.

6. She shit right in my hand.

I pulled out to give myself a break, we were in the doggy position. I started fingering her and she started to orgasm. She shit right in my hand.

7. I threw up on her snatch.

I went down on a girl and it smelled exactly like an Arby’s cheddar melt. I threw up on her snatch, and that wasn’t a deal breaker for her. It just made her want it more. She knew I liked it a little rough, from previous conversations, and so she straight up launched herself, puke beef cootchie and all, right onto my face and starts grinding. I was so caught off be-fucking-wildered that I froze, internally screaming this is a bad dream. This has got to be a bad fucking dream. Meanwhile in grind town, the aroma of Arby’s and half-digested oatmeal smeared my face as I finally screamed in horror and ran out.

You try getting that out of your beard.

8. She insisted on watching while blowing me.

Ended up losing my virginity to my first girlfriend while watching I asked her if we could maybe turn it off, at which point she removed my penis from her mouth and said, But it’s my favorite movie?

9. It was like my penis rolled a sticky tear.

I had a pretty sad jerk off the other night.

I guess my heart wasn’t into it or something but the run up to the orgasm started fine but then it just became a chore. I kept thinking about other stuff. My arm was getting tired. I farted mid-way through and the smell was a distraction.

I start to cum and it immediately got soft and just like seeped out. No energy behind it at all. No happiness or excitement. It was like my penis rolled a sticky tear.

Then my dick was like a sad old drunk slumping into a puddle of his own sick. I just sat there all heavy with shame for a few seconds as this gif looping on my monitor that, with the haze of arousal fizzled, was just awkward and weird. All titties being mashed and slapped around like they owed someone money.

Then I got a sandwich and played Minecraft.

10. I found out in the most painful way that I was in fact too big for her once her teeth shredded my dick and filled her mouth with blood.

Was dating a girl a few years back and after a month of intense make out sessions and heavy petting we decided it was time to take things to the next level. It started off well enough when she pulled out my junk and exclaimed I was the biggest she’d seen, and she was proud of her ability to deep throat and was insistent she could take me on. So without any warm up at all she tries to shove my entire dry dick down her throat and I found out in the most painful way that I was in fact too big for her once her teeth shredded my dick and filled her mouth with blood. We didn’t get to the sex part due to my crying

11. I accidentally told a girl I loved her and proceeded to have awkward coitus.

I was once having sex with a girl I’d been dating for a few weeks. I thought she said I love you so I was like Oh I love you too but she actually just said something completely different. She stopped dead and questioned what I’d said, but I just said never mind and carried on. TL;DR I accidentally told a girl I loved her and proceeded to have awkward coitus.

12. She kindly informs me I wasn’t in and was rubbing between her ass cheeks and sheets the whole time.

First time I ever did it. I was thrusting hard and doing well, so I thought. Then she kindly informs me I wasn’t in and was rubbing between her ass cheeks and sheets the whole time. I almost came from that.

13. I banged a hoarder in the closet of her smelly apartment. Afterwards she fished an old condom out of her pussy.

So, Im at a bar and I start working on a girl. Shes pretty hot. We dance, we drink, we talk. She makes it pretty clear she wants to go back to my place. At one point, she was even joking how its been forever since she’s been laid.

Im only in town visiting a friend and crashing on his couch so I insist on going to her place. Initially she resists the idea but I elaborate on the couch thing, plus he lives super far away, he doesnt have a car so I dont know how she would get home, etc., etc. Eventually she caves.

She lives walking distance away in a pretty nice apartment building. We go up the elevator and when we get to her front door she warns me that she shares a 1 bedroom apartment with a roommate and that, Its a little bit messy.

She opens the door; we go in and Im slapped across the face with the stench of weeks-old garbage and a pile of dishes festering in the sink. I have no idea how someone could live with that smell emanating from their kitchen but perhaps even worse is the whole place looks like an episode of hoarders. Junk is everywhere. It covers every conceivable surface, and is several feet thick in some places with piles of laundry and random items littered across the floor.

At this point, a better man would have called it. Thanked her for the lovely evening and taken a very lonely but far more sanitary cab ride back home. But its been a while for me and shes probably the hottest chick Ive ever landed. So instead her and I waded through the piles of garbage to make our way to her bedroom.

She leads me to a windowless room that I can only describe as a closet. Its barely large enough for a single mattress, which is placed directly on the floor. We are surrounded on all sides by piles of junk and clothes but Im relieved to be away from the chaos and stink that is her kitchen.

We go in and I close the door behind us and we are plunged into blackness. There are no lights in the room. She fumbles around and says Just a second! while she rummages through her purse, takes out her cellphone, activates the flashlight app, and MacGyver’s the worlds saddest desk lamp by propping it up on a pile of dirty clothes.

We get down to business. At this point Im so thoroughly disgusted with myself that Im having trouble getting ready for action. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), she sucks dick like a champ and we get things underway. I put on a condom and were off to the races. At this point all I want to do is blow my load and make my escape from this smelly dungeon.

Then she stops me: Wait a second I think the condom broke. My heart immediately seizes up and sinks to the pit of my stomach as I consider the possibility of being connected to this hot mess and her garbage dungeon for 18 years.

I withdraw and she sticks her finger into her pussy, fishes out a broken condom, and flings it at the wall. As shes rummaging through her trash heap looking for another condom I look down and I notice something. Im still wearing a condom And its totally intact.

tl;dr I banged a hoarder in the closet of her smelly apartment. Afterwards she fished an old condom out of her pussy.

14. I projectile-vomited from the realization I had been banging a 15-year-old for a month.

This one is sad and I’m disgusted with myself for a reason that will become clear. I was 21 and had been dating this girl who was 18. I met her mother and they were even talking about how they were planning her 19th birthday party and how she couldn’t believe how fast her little girl was growing up and her mom even said her daughter scored big time landing a handsome 21-year-old man yadda yadda. It was weird and felt like I was missing an inside joke. Fast forward a month and lots of pretty good sex.

We had left party at a beach house to fuck in my car. She gets sick and vomits at one point, super drunk, but thankfully she managed to vomit outside the car. We keep going at it, or trying to; I was drunk myself and drunk me and erections dont work so well, windows had fogged up and the car was rocking.

There’s a sharp knock at the window that I ignored, kept fucking. Then there’s another knock and its insistent. I get angry at this point and yell leave me alone, we are fucking! I thought it was a friend looking for us. Nope. I was met by a blinding light being shown and an obvious cop tone telling us to exit the vehicle.

Two cops were outside and asked if we were at the party because they had a noise complaint. Yup. I’m freaking out because she’s clearly wasted and she was only 18. I was 21 so I just knew I would be hit with a charge for supplying alcohol to an underage person. The dreaded question comes up. How old are you? I responded with Im 21 sir, but I haven’t supplied any alcohol to anyone but myself. Cop smirks but looks at my GF and asks her her age.

She looks around shyly, albeit drunkenly, and says Fifteen. It took me a moment to clock it but the cops looking at me wide-eyed confirmed what I thought must have been a misheard statement. The moment the statement was confirmed was met by a What the fucking fuck!?! scream of disbelief and projectile vomit from the realization I had been banging a 15-year-old for a month. She did not look like she was that young.

I immediately went on a rant about how I met her mom and how the fuck that was even possible. Apparently my reaction was so genuine that the cops believed it. They even had the girl call her mom and her mother confirmed that they had lied to me. All I received that night was being pulled aside by cops and a lecture about checking girls IDs.

15. The smelllike wet garbage in the hot sunhit me.

Back when I was in law school, there was a girl, M. M was a wholesome gal from Wisconsin: blonde hair, blue eyes, a slight gap in her front teeth. A real girl-next-door type (in the traditional, non-porno sense). She grew up on a dairy farm.

M was what we called law school hotlate 20s (and just starting to show it), slightly pudgy, finally trying harder to dress professionally than to dress sexy, generally attractive, but didn’t really stand out in a crowd. Her biggest assetliterallywas her awesome rack. To quote , they hung enormous, the way you’d think of God’s as big. Her daddy would have been lucky to have a milk cow endowed like her.

It was the end of our first semester, which for new 1Ls is a huge deal. (The stress during the initial year in law school is tremendous; if you’ve ever seen the movie Paper Chase, it’s 100% accurate.) The tradition at my law school was for everyone to saunter over to the bar a block away after their last exam and hang out. M and I had a friendly relationship up until that point, so when I saw her walk through the door, I waved her over and she joined our group of about ten or so.

At some pointprompted in part, I’m sure, by large quantities of boozewe of course started talking about sex, and because one of the guys with us was gay, the topic of anal sex came up. After a bit, M admitted that she had never tried anal. I was drunk and feeling saucy, so I said, ‘We should rectify that. Rectum-ify, she giggled back, and at that moment, I decided to put all of my drunken intellect towards coming in her back door before the night was out.

After a few hours our group was dwindling, but some of us were determined to continue celebrating for a while longer and M was looking like she was ready to head out. She needed to eat, she said, and was running out of cash, too. We still had about 3/4 of a pizza left, and I was trying to convince her to stay, so I offered to buy her next drink if she’d stick around.

When I came back with her drinksomething with tequila, I believeshe turned to me and said, I shouldn’t be eating this, I’m lactose-intolerant. I hope you’re happy, because I’m doing this for you.

After that round, more people headed out, and M couldn’t be persuaded to stay. But I wasn’t ready to give up, so I offered to walk her home, since our apartments were next to each other, and only a few blocks away. When we got to her place, she invited me in. We went through the standard fooling around routine, ending up naked and horizontal in her bed.

Emboldened by earlier conversation, M’s apparent enthusiasm, and a large dose of alcohol, I eventually suggested that we try anal, and M agreed. After some shuffling, we ended up with her on top so that she could control the depth and speed, and for a few minutes, I was happily watching M’s magnificent mammaries jiggle around while she gingerly bounced on my rod.

After a few minutes, her expression switched from drunken sex stupor to pain and fear. Assuming I had hurt her somehow, I began to push her off of me, but she told me to wait. Sudden pressure and heat on my tool tipped me off to her digestive distress, and I could feel something trickling down my balls. I started to get up again, but she said, No, please. Stay inside. Just for a minute. I protested, but she was panicked, and begged me to help her to the bathroom before I pulled out.

We flailed around for a moment, and awkwardly switched to doggy style. We tried to shuffle to the bathroom, but drunkenness, the physical difficulty of the act, and the sheer ridiculousness of it all meant we didn’t make much progress. In a moment of inebriated genius, I hoisted her up by the hips and suggested she walk on her hands.

It turns out that wheelbarrowing a crying drunk girl across her apartment with your dick stuck in her ass isn’t particularly sexy, and a combination of internal pressure and my rapidly deflating member caused what is probably best referred to as an uncorking.

I watched in slow-mo horror as a fountain of diarrhea blasted out of her butthole, point-blank into my crotch. Spattering my torso. And my arms. And my face. And I dropped her. She hit the ground, hard, sobbing. The smelllike wet garbage in the hot sunhit me. I was painted from waist down with her special brand of brownie batter.

I was in shock. I just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at this poor girl, suffering the world’s worst case of mudbutt, crying on the floor of her shitty apartment, shit oozing out of her ass, shit dripping off of me.

But as horrible as the sight and the smell were, the worst was the sound. That sound will haunt me for the rest of my life. No language on Earth can approximate the cacophony of her crapping everywhere. It was a combination of the most over-the-top whoopee cushion, someone snapping gum through their teeth, and the glug of a water cooler. That sound blared above all, the way classical music plays during the hero’s against-all-odds rush into death in war movies. The sobbing was a distant drone, almost outside my notice, but the burbling of her bowels was deafening, in perfect sonorous clarity.

I must have stood there for maybe 10 seconds, but it felt like an hour. In a daze I pulled my pants on, then ran out the door. I mean ran. I sprinted. I left my shirt, my shoes, my socks, my boxers. All of it was abandoned in my mad dash to get home. People on the street saw me, but I didn’t care. I ran the 100 yards to my apartment door, past everyone, and I threw myself in the shower, and I cried.

16. She yelps like a pup and I spent the next 15 minutes cradling her as she whimpers, calling me an idiot.

Was having sex with my girlfriend at the time shes this cute little thing but really strong (she actually joined the Army later) anyway shes on top, I grab her and pull her to me and flip her onto her back and now I’m on top. She fucking loves it. She decides she wants to put her hands in my hair, small problem her one arm is in between my hand holding me up (This was spontaneous hiking in the woods and on top of a picnic blanket sex and not soft bed sex) and her body. She decides to quickly pull her hand out just as I was thrusting. She knocks out my support and I start to fall so I lift my other hand and throw it to center the balance. Her seeing my fall turns to her side so we dont whack skulls. Now this girl weighs 110 soaking wet, I’m 250lbs. My center balancing position threw my hand down at Mach 1 with 250lbs behind it directly onto her breast. She yelps like a pup and I spent the next 15 minutes cradling her as she whimpers, calling me an idiot.

17. I lasted like 4 pumps max.

tl;dr Couldn’t get it up and repeatedly embarrassed myself night after night for two weeks.

So I met this girl overseas. She was also American and was working in the same area I was. Short, great curves, cute face, overall way hot. Started talking to her on Facebook, and found out she was an awesome conversationalist and that we had a lot of personality traits in common. Unfortunately, things didn’t escalate quickly enough before I ended up going home for a few months.

While I was home, we kept talking of Facebook and really hit it off. Flirting became sex references became overt I want to have sex with you. This went on for like two months. We were Skyping and messaging all day long. We even discussed that we would be making out and banging as soon as I got back.

Finally got back and saw her again, and we immediately went back to my room and got down to it. 0-100mph in the space of about 10 mins, and we hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol.

I really liked this girl. A lot. Too much. So much that my nerves overruled my basic biological functions and I went soft as a bar rag as soon as she was above me about to put it in. Try as we might, there was no getting me stiff again. I’d never had trouble keeping it up (while sober) before and was highly surprised and disappointed with myself. I’d also never had this strong of an affection for someone before ever having sex with them.

Freshly inspired by some illuminating time with a therapist back home, I decided that honesty with her and with myself was the best policy here and just explained that I was nervous as shit and didn’t think I could be performing tonight. She hid her disappointment very well. We cuddled up and went to bed.

I woke up in the middle of the night, hard as a diamond, and decided to try again. Minimum amount of foreplay and I lasted like 4 pumps max. She actually thanked me for waking her up to try again!

I could get plenty hard enough when we tried from there on out, but as soon as the shuttle approached for reentry, all the heat shielding melted away, the structure collapsed, and the crew went down in burning flames. My nerves persisted with no sign of relenting with her over the next few days.

This saint blew me every day and I disappointed this woman who wanted my cock so bad every day for like two weeks. She stuck around enthusiastic and persistent (which blows my mind because she could have left and pulled any slab of hot meat she wanted) for two weeks. Expecting her to give up and leave made me even more nervous, but she never did.

Finally, in a night of just the right amount of tipsy, I pulled it off! Had drunk, short, sloppy sex, but I was mildly reassured that I at least was capable. Over the next few days, I gradually got over my nerves enough to at least keep hard enough to penetrate. When I was finally batting 100 instead of zero, we basically opened the floodgates and fucked at least daily for months. Sex got better and better and she stuck around.

She moved in with me last summer and I can’t imagine a cooler girlfriend.

18. We get 4, maybe 5 thrusts in before the girl’s friend barges into the room and starts screaming bloody murder.

Coincidentally my first go at sex…. Party at a good friends’ house, talk to a girl all night and end up in one of my friend’s bedroom, my friends were siblings, this is important because my friend had gotten in trouble earlier in the week with her mother resulting in her door knob being removed so she couldn’t lock the door. Things are getting hot and heavy, clothes are off, dick is slid in, and we get 4, maybe 5 thrusts in before the girl’s friend barges into the room and starts screaming bloody murder, for no reason beyond being a drunk high school girl encountering an awkward interaction, whole room rushes in as the girl sits, petrified, on top of my softening dick.

19. Girl blew me. Somehow she made it boring.

Girl blew me.

Somehow she made it boring.

Also dry like desert.

Painful, could not convince her to do something else.

Her begging me to cum had opposite effect it should have. Normally wind blows I cum, but not this day.

Finally take matters into my own hands (A, normally wouldn’t want to, B, she stopped me every time before she developed lockjaw an hour in) finish myself in her mouth.

Collapse from exhaustion and sadness.

She tells me she loves me.

This was our first sexual encounter of any kind.

Bizzaro world of future with her as my wife getting blow jobs I somehow don’t want every night flashes before my eyes.

I bolt.

She proclaims as I fade out of sight, that was the best I’ve ever given.

Her roommates were in living room, though I didn’t see them, I’m sure they shook their heads.

Sad.

20. The whole time I was thinking, Im gonna fucking die.

She was drunk, I was drunker, it was like trying to stab someone with a piece of soft rope, so I had some…enhancement pills, not a great combo being drunk, horny and all worked up so I basically ended up at near heart attack levels of strain on my heart, I mean I did it and she seemed happy enough, but the whole time I was thinking Im gonna fucking die, I’m gonna die fucking someone in doggy and pin her down with my body when I do.

Ironically I bet that made me last longer. Also when I woke up I was still erect.

21. And that, ladies and gents, is how I began the year of 2016 by contracting syphilis.

She was 5 foot nothing, perky breasts, and a shapely backside. Cute as a button.

She laid next to me on her single mattress in the dingy apartment room she was forced to rent in order to dance in the local strip joint of my home town. Both of us fairly hung over, though no less frisky for it.

As we lay there dozing in and out of sleep, and mumbling conversation her intentions for my company became clearer the more often her ass made its way to grinding against my groin.

Bedraggled state of affairs I was in, I tried to ignore her silent request for attention. Whether a result of anxiety at being in bed with a real live exotic dancer, the effects of my diet consisting solely of beer and cigarettes for 3 days solid, or a combination of both, junior was not up to the task.

However my companion was determined. Given her increased advances I refused to allow myself to miss the opportunity of bedding a stripper. Reaching a free hand into my boxers, I began to tug one out.

After a brief minute of awakening my member, I felt sufficiently hard enough to see through the task at hand. Rolling over into a spooning position I guided my cock to her awaiting opening, and did my damndest to enter her.

Unfortunately it became obvious that my wedding tackle wasn’t sufficiently warmed up, as I began pushing rope after acquainting myself with the first couple inches of her vulva.

Propping my would-be lover onto her knees, I assumed my position behind her and tried to go to work once more. I attended her vagina with one free hand while stimulating my rod with the other.

It only occurred to me after the first few strokes how long my willy had gone without attention. Before I could rethink my strategy-or convince junior to take any other form besides that of an over cooked pasta noodle-I felt an all too familiar sensation rushing through my vas.

I tried to clamp my trouser snake in a death grip as a last-ditch effort to stop the inevitable, but to no avail. Bat and balls pulsed in unison, erupting a fountain of jism far more enthusiastic than I would have expected given the setting. It was all over.

Kneeling there, unbelieving, I looked brokenly to the web of cum enveloping my hand and the considerable dollop on the sheets. My attempted consort still positioned patiently, eyes closed, anticipating more than the idle digit I had planted in her baby chute.

I did the best to compose myself, wiped the spunk off on a nearby scrap of fabric, and managed to splutter the words I need a cigarette.

And that, ladies and gents, is how I began the year of 2016 by contracting syphilis.

22. I found a long yellow dead piece of grass up my dickhole.

Was young and was having sex in the grass in the backyard, I felt a giant spider skittle across my chest and bucked the bitch off of me. Turned over and got up, later in the house I felt a weird pressure on my dick, went to the bathroom and found a long yellow dead piece of grass up my dickhole. Hurt the whole way out.

If youre going to have sex outside kids, put down a blanket.

23. The story of Vampire Girl.

Oh boy. Let me tell you the story of Vampire Girl.

Many years ago, I had just gotten out of my first relationship. That first relationship included all the other firsts – kiss, grope, sex, etc. Upon its ending, I was a total wreck. A pitiful mass of ridiculously maudlin sentiments. My friends kept telling me I needed to rebound. Get under someone to get over someone. You know the drill.

So a perfectly lovely girl invites me out, then we head to her place. I was not into it. I was and remain pretty much unable to differentiate the act of sex from romantic feelings, and I was still in love with my ex. So things weren’t really working down there.

This lovely girl takes it in stride, and decides that some kink will help turn the cooked noodle back into hard, raw spaghetti. Cue something that I, the veteran of one fairly vanilla sexual partner, was not prepared to hear.

Her: Do you want me to get out my whip?

Me: Uh

Her: We can taste each other’s blood.

Me: can we just go to sleep, please?

She kept stroking my face all night.

Listen, S, I don’t know if you’re reading this, but current me would have been willing to work a bit with the whip. Still no blood play. Sorry for being awkward as all hell about it back then.

Read this: 23 Women Reveal The Absolute WORST Sexual Experience Of Their Lives

Source: http://allofbeer.com/23-men-reveal-the-absolute-worst-sexual-experience-of-their-lives/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/09/25/23-men-reveal-the-absolute-worst-sexual-experience-of-their-lives/