#THANKFULLY my mom and I have TALKED about being lonely and using dating apps so

[polyamorouspunk]

Mother-daughter relationship so strong you blank and put your mom’s phone number in for a dating app 👌🏻

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today. 

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults. 

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet. 

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off. 

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder. 

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again. 

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply. 

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown. 

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it. 

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window. 

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind. 

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is. 

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes. 

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls. 

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately. 

God, why do I have to have a conscious.  

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head. 

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression. 

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?” 

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you. 

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.” 

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes. 

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?” 

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too. 

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face. 

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little. 

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?” 

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.” 

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her. 

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her. 

“What do you miss about him?” 

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining. 

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?” 

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.” 

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?” 

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.” 

“Thats sweet.” 

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.” 

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.” 

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder. 

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it. 

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you. 

“Yeah...thanks.” 

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?” 

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.” 

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces. 

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.” 

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her. 

“The bin...in the cafeteria.” 

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.” 

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor. 

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.” 

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised. 

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.” 

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up. 

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before. 

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.” 

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen. 

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out. 

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs. 

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him. 

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle. 

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom. 

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?” 

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you. 

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?” 

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.” 

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-” 

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.” 

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed. 

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.” 

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies. 

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees. 

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.” 

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes. 

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.” 

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology. 

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.” 

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms. 

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-” 

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.” 

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica. 

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him. 

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh. 

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her. 

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.” 

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up. 

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.” 

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl. 

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject. 

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands. 

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before. 

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother. 

“Hi.” She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down. 

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.” 

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?” 

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter. 

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.” 

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes. 

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms. 

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.” 

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating. 

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.” 

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off. 

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you. 

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out. 

“How old are you?” You huff. 

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”  

“Shut up!” 

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you. 

She liked you. 

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you. 

And you? Well, you were none the wiser. 

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them. 

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet. 

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies. 

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.” 

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.” 

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.” 

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.” 

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them. 

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face. 

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.” 

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade. 

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?” 

“Ye-” 

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you. 

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom. 

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.” 

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.” 

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes. 

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips. 

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little. 

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again. 

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be. 

[cravingcrazewriting]

Cut My Hair

Trigger Warning- Mentions of suicide attempt and seizures

Having a brain tumor was never fun.

Everything was fine after junior year. Evan had an internship at Ellison State Park and despite still not having anyone to hang around with, it was still better than other years.

But then his head started to hurt. Then he had a seizure. And before he knew it, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and had to stay at the hospital and be prepared for surgery.

Surgery was extremely expensive, and it wasn't like he or his mom had money for that, but thankfully, his grandmother (on his mom's side) had sent down a check that covered over half of the payment. Evan felt a bit bad that she did that, because she was retired and she should be using that money for herself, not him.

He needed two different types of treatment. Chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Evan hated the radiation therapy, but it did help him. However, the surgery was still inevitable.

But the doctors were worried about a lack of socialization, so they decided to fix that. They decided they'd introduce Evan to another patient who was recently admitted into the hospital.

Someone who had just recently survived a suicide attempt, and was known for being emotionally unstable.

Yeah, that was definitely a smart idea.

Evan met him randomly at one point of day, with no warning whatsoever. Well, no forewarning, because the nurse came in and told him the mystery patient was coming in. Still, it wasn't enough time to mentally prepare himself.

The latter was named Connor, and he had long, brown hair that stopped at the bottom his chest. The normal hospital scrubs revealed red healing scars on his arms. He was like any other generic hospital patient, with heavy bags under his eyes.

"Sorry in advance that you're being dragged into my bullshit," Connor had mumbled, crossing his arms. "I'm Connor Murphy. You probably go to the same school as me, because there's only our school and the private school, and I'm positive I've seen you around."

That shouldn't have meant as much to Evan as it should've, but he was used to be forgetful, a single thought, in one ear and out the other, an outcast, but at least someone noticed him a little bit. "Y-Yeah, er, Eastwood High, r-right?"

Connor snapped his fingers. "Right! It's.. Evan, right? Evan Hansen? People pick... on you.." and he trails off, as a daunting truth falls on him. That he noticed Evan was being picked on, but didn't do anything. "I get picked on, too. I thought I'd make it worse if I tried interfering," he said defensively.

That piece of information doesn't scathe Evan, however, as he's finally been seen, and not as an inconvenience, not as the family friend, not as the burden full son, just another outcast at school, and as sad as that is, he can't help but mind it. Connor is just barely above him in the school's chain, but that only makes him more prime of a target. He doesn't find it very fair, but he'd never find the courage to smack talk the popular kids.

"N-no, no, you're okay! I.. I get it. And I'm Evan, yes," Evan was smiling like a huge dork, but he couldn't help it. He was finally seen, after so long, and even if the situation wasn't ideal, it still meant the world to him.

Connor was obviously trying to hold back a smile, but was failing. "So Hansen, got any hobbies?"

And Evan was off, talking about how before the doctors discovered his brain tumor that he had interned as an apprentice ranger at Ellison, and that he learned a ton about trees, and told Connor a little bit about it. Connor didn't make fun of him about it, though, unlike Jared, who'd say Evan must've had a tree kink or something, which was just a dick move because there wasn't a lot of things that sparked Evan's interest like that. Connor, in fact, talked about how everyone needed to help clean the environment and apparently he was passionate about that, so they had a common interest (Evan though, at least. He was never sure).

They hung out a lot and just talked. It made Evan feel normal, like there wasn't something inside his brain trying to kill him.

Jared visited with his family, and he actually seemed to feel bad for Evan. He'd purchased a small potted plant to help brighten up his hospital room. Evan appreciated it greatly.

Nearing the end of the week, Connor had told him he was going to be released at the start of the next week, and asked Evan for his number. Of course they exchanged numbers.

Evan wanted to spend as much time as possible with Connor, but it was growing harder for him to focus or not be throwing his guts out. He was having more seizures than ever.

Apparently this meant that the surgery had to be moved to an earlier date.

Evan didn't get a chance to tell Connor because it happened so fast. He felt incredibly bad. One minute his mom was talking to the surgeon, and the next he was given antibiotics to knock him out.

He had rested a lot, feeling weak from the surgery. It was successful according to the surgeon, which was a huge relief to him and his mother.

Did he forget to mention he had to get his head completely shaved? It felt embarrassing, but Heidi tried to help. She bought him a dark blue beanie so no one would bug him that much.

Evan was soon able to muster enough strength to look at his phone. He received a shit ton from Connor regarding the surgery.

Connor:

The nurses aren't letting me see u. Is everything ok?

Connor:

I tried asking them but they won't answer

Connor:

Ev, what's going on?

Connor:

Ev?

Connor:

I'm kinda freaked out. Pls respond asap

Connor:

Holy shit

Connor:

Ur mom told me. I'm sorry

Connor:

I hope it goes well

Connor:

Hey!! Heard the surgery went ok. How're u feeling?

Connor:

Heidi said ur resting. I'll leave u be

Connor:

Ok I lied

Connor:

I miss talking with u. But u need rest

Connor:

We'll hang out this summer, right? I'm somehow not going to rehab

Connor:

Fuck, I'll stop now. Just respond when ur better

Evan sighed. Connor claimed not to be talkative, but this proved otherwise. It was just too exhausting to try and corollate words that he pulled up SnapChat and took a photo of his bedsheets. He added a caption saying "hey, sorry I scared you" before sending it to the latter.

After a few minutes, Connor had responded with a picture of where his door used to reside. "It's okay," the caption read, "it isn't your fault"

A picture of the heart monitor was sent next. "What happened to your door?"

Connor sent back a picture of his black sketchbook. It wasn't opened. "Dad took it down. He thinks it'll help monitor me"

Evan moved the conversation to a chat, because he was running out of things to take pictures of, and switching apps seemed like a hassle to him.

"Well, he's trying"

"Can I tell you something?"

Of course, this made Evan anxious, but he knew Connor. In the five days they were together they already were growing close, probably because they were both incredibly lonely. Cliche as it might've sounded to anyone else, but Evan trusted him.

"Sure what is it?"

But of course Evan didn't get a response right away. SnapChat sent him a message saying 'Connor Murphy is typing...", and after he pulled up their conversation, there was the ever long three blue dots waiting for him, signaling that Connor was typing a response. But he took forever and it didn't help the anxiety quelling in his chest.

Then, he finally got a response.

"I like you. Like, a lot more than I probably should. And I know it's stupid, because we've only known each other for a week, but I know you're different than everyone else. You actually listen to me, you make me feel safe, and I don't want to loose you. I get it if you don't like the school shooter or whatever, I just don't want to loose you. Please."

And, of course Evan was flattered, and it was hard to corollate what he wanted to say through text, but he didn't want to keep Connor waiting so he could spiral, so he frantically typed out a response.

"I don't think it's stupid. I think it's super sweet, and I like you back. Even if you don't believe it, I'll do everything I can to prove it to you (also, don't call yourself a school shooter. You're so much more than that)"

Evan remembered how the next day Connor had came in, holding huge stuffed bear for him, smiling sheepishly as he set it on his bed, and asked him out on a date to A La Mode when he was released.

Evan had enthusiastically accepted, and couldn't help but anticipate the date.

Connor never made a big deal out of his hair being cut off. He did know Evan was self conscious of it, and made an effort to kiss the back of his head and reassure him that he didn't care about his lack of hair.

As much as this helped, Evan felt like he was being stared at in public, and he kept his head down, eyes glued to the floor. He did however notice Connor glaring at anyone who muttered a thing about it, or looked at him the wrong way.

One day, when he watching Chopped out of boredom, he received a text message from Connor, asking if he could come over. Evan told him he was more than fine with it, and waited for the latter to arrive.

What he wasn't expecting was Connor, with ear length hair.

"What, what h-happened? Did your dad, d-did he make you cut it?" Evan of course liked it, he thought it was cute, but it didn't stop his anxiety from going haywire.

"Nope," he popped the 'p', smiling, hiding something behind his back. "I did it willingly. Can you let me inside so I'll show you your surprise?"

Evan nodded, moving out of his way so Connor could step into the house. Afterwards, Connor said, "Now close your eyes, and take off your beanie."

Evan didn't know what that had to do with anything but complied, awkwardly standing there as he listened to Connor rummage through a paper bag, and felt something soft being placed onto his head.

Connor carefully put the beanie back on afterwards and gently took ahold of his shoulders. "Alrighty, now follow my lead."

Evan tried his best not to stumble around as Connor lead him to who knew where in his house. He felt Connor stop and stopped as well.

"Okay, you can open your eyes!" Connor told him, and he sounded oddly excited.

Evan slowly opened his eyes and gasped. There on his head, sat a brown wig, and his beanie was placed on top of it. It was styled a bit like Connor's, but it stopped near the end of his neck.

"Connor! Holy shit, h-how'd you do this?" Evan turned to him.

Connor was smiling and shifting from foot to foot. "Cynthia knows someone who makes wigs, so I went to her shop and cut my hair for your wig."

"You didn't have to do this..." he said softly.

"Evan, I'd cut my hair a million times if it'd make you happy," Connor took his hands and held them.

Evan swung them back and forth. "You're.. god. You're so amazing, but like, really corny, too."

Connor snorted. "Wow, I'm feeling the love, all right."

"Hey, thanks for, you know, doing this," Evan gently brushed a bang out of Connor's face.

"Well how else was I supposed to make you get a matching hair color?"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

[lovemesomesurveys]

Have you cuddled with someone today? Nope.

Can you smell anything right now? My bowl of ramen.

Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No, not as of now anyway.

Do you use the toilet paper with the colourful designs on it? No. It’s toilet paper; the design really isn’t important.

Do you wear your hair up or down most often? My hair is always just up in a messy bun because I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else with it.

How does alcohol affect you? I was a lightweight, so it didn’t take much or long for it to hit. I feel like it made me really chatty and annoying. Then there was typically the crash where I started to feel sad and lonely.

When was the last time you had a cold or flu? I had a cold last year around this time. About 3 years ago I was hit hard with the flu and bronchitis. It messed me up for months.

What was the first thing you ate today? My late night bowl of ramen at 1AM.

Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? Nah, I want to be doing my nighttime routine. I look forward to it. 

Do you still buy the paper or do you get your news elsewhere? I’ve never bought the newspaper. I get most of my news online or through the news app on my phone, but I catch some of the news on TV here and there. 

Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? I’ve never tried it. It doesn’t look or sound appealing to me.

Have you worn make-up today? No. I haven’t worn makeup in over 3 years now.

Do you ever get dizzy and nauseous when you’re extremely tired? Yeah, I’ll sometimes feel a little dizzy.

Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, but I’d be down to try ‘em.

Can you hear anything right now? The ASMR video I’m listening to and my aunt playing some game on her phone.

What was the last type of meat you ate? Chicken.

What colour is your toothpaste? White.

Have you taken any medication today? Yes.

Have you ever been suspended from school? Nope.

Have you ever inhaled helium? No, I’ve always been too afraid to try.

Have you bought something that was on sale today? I haven’t bought anything today as of yet and I don’t plan to.

Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? I don’t not like him. I mean, I like some movies he’s been in, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan of his.

What was the last fruit you ate? Most likely a banana. I’ll admit it’s been quite awhile since I’ve had any fruit, so I don’t know for sure.

Off the top of your head how many aisles are in the supermarket you shop at? *shrug* It’s Walmart, there’s a ton of aisles. 

Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I’ve seen some episodes here and there.

Have you watched a movie this week? I watched The Invisible Man the other night with my mom and aunt.

How far away is the closest McDonald’s from your house? Like a 5 minute drive.

Have you ever been to a wedding? Yeah, I’ve been to 3.

What is your favourite kind of pasta? *finishing this the next day* Spaghetti and meatballs.

Have you set an alarm today? I set one to make sure I was up when my brother got off work so I could ask him to get Starbucks on his way home. 

When was the last time you visited relatives? My aunt has been here visiting and staying with us for the past week.

Have you asked someone for advice today? No.

What was the last website you were on, other than this one? One to pay a bill.

Did you ever play Habbo Hotel? Nope. I’ve never even heard of it.

Do you speak any languages other than English? I only know some Spanish.

Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but I’d love to someday.

Have you watched more than an hour of TV today? Yes.

What's your best talent? I don’t have any.

Do you know anyone named Nicole? Nope.

Have you ever had a true FML moment? Uh, I’ve had countless FML moments.

Are you considering having children right now? Absolutely not. I don’t want children.

Do you enjoy the darkness? No.

Are you afraid of being single? I’ve been single for almost 10 years, sooo.

Do you have a new boy-/girlfriend every week? ^^^ Also, I’ve only technically had one boyfriend and there were two guys I was talking to/really interested in that I had something going on with, but never actually dated. So, I really don’t have much dating experience at all.

How much memory does your computer have? *shrug* I don’t feel like checking.

Do you play video games? Sometimes. I was playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons regularly for several months, but then I stopped back in like January. I’ve been wanting to play, but just haven’t for whatever reason.

What color are your eyes? Brown.

Is your hair layered? Not as much anymore since I’ve over a year due for a haircut.

What's the closest yellow thing to you? I have Winnie the Pooh on my socks.

Have you ever shot an animal? Nooo.

Do you exercise daily? I don’t exercise at all.

Can you do cool things with your hair? I’ve never been good at styling my hair and always did basic stuff with it like ponytails and buns. Especially now since I have zero energy or motivation to attempt anything else.

Do you have a couch in your house? Yeah, we have 3.

Would you like to have a soda machine in your room? No. I’d love to have a coffee machine in my room, though.

Are you impatient? Very.

Would you pay someone to drive you around everywhere? No, but it’d be neat to have some go get me food or Starbucks whenever I wanted, ha. I don’t need to go, just need someone to get it for me.

Do you think soap operas are too good to be true? Soap operas are suuuper cringe. 

Are you conscious of your weight? Yes. I’m underweight and don’t like how my body looks.

Have you ever jumped out of a window? No.

What kind of mood are you usually in? Moody mood. 

Do you have a webcam? Yeah, there’s one built into the laptop.

Do you finish other people's sentences? Sometimes.

How many pairs of shoes do you own? Like 5 or 6.

When's your birthday? July 28th.

Do you feel important where you're at right now? I don’t feel like I’m important at all.

Are you short-tempered? I get irritated and frustrated very easily.

Have you ever been homeless? No.

How many online accounts do you have? Countless amount of accounts. I’ve had an online presence since the late 90s, so while there’s a ton of inactive accounts now out there, likely a lot of non-existent ones as well, I’m still counting them.

Do you drive through red lights? I don’t drive, but uh no I would not drive through a red light. I’m not trying to cause an accident or kill/get killed. Please don’t do that.

What sound puts you to sleep? ASMR often helps.

Are you a fast or slow reader? Fast.

Are you a good speller? I think so.

Do you have a TV in your bedroom? Yes.

How long can you go without sleeping? I’ve gone like 36 hours or so before. I couldn’t do that now, though, or anywhere close. 

How long can you go without talking? Somedays most of the day depending on if I’m feeling extra moody and sad, or if I’m really sick. Somedays hours. I never go a full day without talking at all, though. There’s just days where I talk more than others.

Do you currently have a job? Nope.

Do you tend to always be in some sort of drama? No. I have my own issues that just involve myself.

Do you collect quarters from every state? No. I remember when I was a kid my parents used to have a quarters map to collect quarters from every state, though. Hm, I wonder what happened to that.

Would you rather sleep all night or sleep all day? My days are mixed up, I sleep all day and stay up all night.

Do you hate getting up early? Well, I’m generally up until like 7AM, sometimes a little later. Once I go to sleep, though, it’s hard for me to get up. That’s why if I have a doctor appointment or something early in the morning then I’ll definitely just stay up until then. Could you see yourself being a bartender? No, I don’t have any interest in that.

Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? No.

Are you currently tired? Always. And as if my sleeping schedule wasn’t already a total mess, it’s been even worse this past week having my aunt here. My schedules and routines have been thrown off and for some reason I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Or staying asleep, rather. I’ll fall asleep and then wake up like every couple hours. Or I’ll get up at an early hour and just end up staying up. So, I’ve been sleeping even less than I was before and yeah I’m definitely feeling it.

What was the last thing you had to drink? Water.

Do you like to take walks? No.

Have you ever had deja vu? Yeah, a few times.

Are you a fan of anime? No.

Do you draw a lot? I don’t draw at all.

Do you plan on going to college? I did and graduated back in 2015.

Do you feel at home in your own home? Yes.

Do you pay for your own cell phone bill? No. I’m on a family plan and thankfully my parents and brother are able to pay for it.

[deadlydollies13]

The Potion Master’s Grace Ch. 10

Grace was apprehensive at first, but she didn’t know why she was. Severus had adopted her after all, making him her father. So why did she pace back and forth in her room in the morning for twenty minutes contemplating it?    But when she went downstairs and called out, “Morning, dad!” and Severus hid his smile behind his paper, everything was okay. She spent the rest of the morning using the word “dad” as much as she could.    “Why do you keep saying ‘dad’?” Severus wasn’t annoyed or anything by it, just curious because he counted thirty-three times she used “dad” in the span of breakfast. 

   “Well,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’ve gone the past eight years without really using the word ‘dad.’ No ‘Hey, dad, how’s it going?’ or ‘See ya later, dad,’ or anything of the sorts. I’m making up for lost time, dad.”    Severus just smiled, “Thirty-seven now.”    “Let’s see if I can make it to one hundred! Hey- what’s Malfoy doing on the front cover?” she said, pointing to the Daily Prophet.    “Professing his undying love for you,” he joked, but Grace could tell he was just trying to avoid telling her.    “No, really. Lemme see,” she tried reaching for the paper, but he just pulled it out of her reach.    “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with, Grace,” but that just made her worry even more.    “Yeah, okay, like that’s ever stopped me. Give- me- that- paper!” finally, she snatched the paper out of Severus’ hands and read the front cover.

Malfoy Heir Testifies Against Father In Trial    Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, testifies against his own father at the Wizengamot for Lucius’ crimes against Muggles and Muggle-borns. Malfoy was also charged with involvement with Death Eaters and allegiance to He Who Shall Not Be Named. Draco Malfoy was found innocent of any involvement with father’s activities and is not an accessory to his crime. Narcissa Malfoy will face trial on a date to be determined. Lucius Malfoy will spend life in Azkaban Prison.

   “What the bloody hell?” Grace said, after reading the article. She honestly couldn’t believe what she was reading. Yes, she knew Draco’s family was a bunch of self-righteous, Pureblood maniacs. But they had such an important social reputation, one that Draco cared about way too much at school, to ever jeopardize that and shame their family. “Did you know this about Draco’s dad?”    Severus just looked down, in a shameful way. So yes, he did know, or at least he knew something. And he was ashamed for knowing so much. Grace decided not to press, just like Severus didn’t push her to open up about her past. So she changed the subject, “Is Draco going to be okay? It’s really hard to go up to the Witness stand and speak out against a parent.” She would know, she had to do the same thing eight years ago, and she lost both parents as a result. At least Draco still had his mom around.    “Draco will be just fine, Gracie. Now, give me back the paper. I wasn’t finished reading it.”

-

   Grace was feeling pretty bad for Malfoy. Sure, he had been a twat to her and Luna since day one, but the situation he was in was just horrible. That is, until the next morning when she walked downstairs to find the blonde sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone.    When their eyes met, both teenagers screamed, “What the hell are you doing here?!” Inside his study, Severus could feel a headache coming on.    “My mother sent me here for the day to get away from everything. Uncle Sev lives in the middle of nowhere,” Draco said first.    Grace’s eyes went wide, “Uncle Sev?”    “He’s my godfather. Now, why are you here?”    “I live here, dumbass! That’s why I would be coming from upstairs! Dad!!”    Draco’s jaw could’ve hit the floor. Dad? Since when did Uncle Sev have a kid and since when was it Grace McClivert?    Severus reluctantly came out of his study, “Grace Audrey, for the love of Merlin, please keep your voice down. And watch the language.”    Grace’s shoulders sunk a little, “Sorry. But, you never told me Draco Malfoy was your godson! That would’ve been some pretty vital information to share, don’t’cha think?”    He just smirked, “It never really came up.”    Draco cut in, “And it would’ve been nice to let me know you had a kid! Especially ‘Fireball’.”    “Really? I thought you would have been pleasantly surprised to see Grace.”    Both teenagers said in embarrassed unison, “Shut up.”    Thankfully, their bickering had settled down by the end of breakfast, and they had resorted to talking about all of the Quidditch defeats they had over each other. So far, Grace’s were more impressive.    They had gotten so tired of fighting that finally, they ended up sitting on the couch, on their phones like normal teenagers. Really, that’s all Severus wanted for the both of them. His godson, unfortunately, never really had a fighting chance as the Dark Lord has had an interest in Draco as he’s gotten older. He was afraid that Draco was going to cornered and left without a choice one day. But he also wanted to keep any details about the Dark Lord that weren't found in the papers away from Grace. She was far too curious to willingly stay out of things, so Severus would just have to keep it a secret. And Merlin forbid if any of the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord, found out that Severus had adopted a Muggle-born daughter. Well, Severus didn’t want to think about it; it was too painful. So, he went down to his potions lab to take his mind off of it.    Meanwhile, Grace was filling Draco’s phone up with all of the social media apps he had been missing. For such a privileged child, he had a bare home screen. It had only consisted of the apps that Apple wouldn’t let you delete, plus he had no music downloaded. So, Grace, mostly to amuse herself, had Draco sign up for Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, and even Tumblr. She also showed him iTunes store and he was very excited that now he could occupy himself with mindless games and every song known to man.    But Grace kept thinking about how Severus was Draco’s godfather. How Draco had had Severus in his life, involved in it too, way longer than Grace had. How Draco and Severus’ bond was much deeper than his and Grace’s. How even though Grace was now his daughter, Severus had probably always looked at Draco like his own. And apparently, her thinking showed outwardly.    “What’s wrong, Little Red?” Draco asked.    Completely ignoring the nickname, Grace just shook her head, “Nothing. Just thinking, is all.”    “Thinking about what? You look sad all of a sudden.”    Well, Gee, thanks, but you’re the reason why. “It’s just- don’t laugh, okay? But, what was it like, growing up with Severus in your life?”    Draco smiled, it was a kind, understanding smile. For once, it wasn’t a mocking smile towards her, and it was actually pretty breathtaking.    “He was… Well, he was the ‘fun’ uncle, I guess. I’d always cling to him, when I was real little, of course. Used to wrap myself up in his robes and say, ‘Look, I’m you, Uncle Sev!’ and he wouldn’t get annoyed like he usually does, he’d just laugh. I think before I was born, he was sad or lonely, I don’t know. My mother used to always make a big deal whenever he'd smile or laugh, but I was always the reason for him doing it. He’d let me help him brew potions, but not really. See, he’d give me jobs like making sure the cauldron didn’t over-boil or something like that. When I got a bit older, I was allowed to stir, and it was like, the greatest achievement I’ve ever received. He was really great. I mean, is really great. You obviously see that Hogwarts Snape is completely different than how he truly is. He’s always been sort of like a dad to me,” and then Draco caught a glimpse of Grace’s eyes, how they were almost twinkling, because yes, someone sees that Severus Snape has a kind heart to those he loves and someone out there shares the love and adoration Grace has for the man, but mostly in that twinkle, Grace was imagining herself put in Draco’s space. She was trying her best to rewrite her own history. If she could just replace all of the bad memories of her past, of her biological father, with fake, made-up, or stolen memories of Severus, then maybe she could breathe a little easier. “He’s your dad now. Never thought I’d see the day but, here it is.”    “I never had that…with anyone really. And a dad is supposed to be so important to a little girl! A dad’s supposed to be the first man she ever loves and carry her on his shoulders and teach her how to dance with her standing on his feet and do the daddy-daughter dances and all that stuff you only find in fairy tales! But, I couldn’t have that because my dad was a horrible person. And I had made myself okay with the fact that I would walk down the aisle on my wedding day alone and I’d have no dance with my dad and- Oh, look at me being absolutely ridiculous and spilling my heart out, I’m probably boring you to death.”    He shook his head, “No, I’m not bored. But you are being ridiculous because you do have that now. And you may not have gotten the growing-up aspect, you have the rest-of-your-life aspect. You get to make all of the memories now.”    Grace, as emotionally focused on her new dad as she was, couldn’t help but be shocked at how nice Draco was being to her. She had never known him to be genuinely nice, only ironically or fake to her, “Thanks, Draco. That… means a lot. Just, let’s not tell anyone, okay?”    Draco agreed, but they were unaware that someone already knew. It was Severus, who was about to go check on the teenagers to make sure they hadn’t mauled each other but stopped himself to listen in on their conversation. His heart swelled with two emotions as he listened, something he definitely wasn’t used to; one emotion was pride for his godson, because he had seen how grown up and mature he had become. And the other was love and adoration for his daughter, and whether he realized it or not, he too had begun to rewrite his history, adding just a few more years he could have had with Grace if the tiny, freckled, redheaded little girl had waltzed into his life sooner.

-

   “So, how’s Luna?” Draco asked, much to Grace’s surprise. She had never heard Draco use anything else to call Luna but “Loony Lovegood,” and she had thought Draco could care less about her anyway.    “She’s, um, she’s doing well. I get to see her a lot more during the summer now, living in the Wizarding World and all. She’s over a lot. In fact, I think she’s been here more than she’s been at home,” Luna’s dad was always obsessing over The Quibbler and has always been a bit too neurotic anyway. She could understand why Luna would just want to get out of the house some days.    Draco just smirked before he asked, “Has she talked to Rolf Scamander yet?”    Oh no, “How did you know about that?” Great, now Malfoy was going to tease Luna endlessly in school this year for her crush!    “Oh, please. Everyone knows they like each other but are too afraid to do anything about it! I keep telling Rolf that if he doesn’t ask her out or something soon, he’s going to miss his chance, but every time he gets close to her he flakes.”    “Wait, how do you know all of this?”    “Obviously because Rolf told me! Honestly, Little Red, do you really believe I have nothing better to do than to stick my nose in other people’s business and stalk their lives all day?”    Grace shrugged, “I actually don’t know much about you, I guess. Like the fact that you’re my dad’s godson or that you’re friends with a Hufflepuff.”    “Rolf and I grew up together. My parents thought it best that the Malfoys’ and Scamanders’ have good connections. We’re actually quite good friends,” Draco replied.    “Then how come I never see you hanging out in school? Or even say ‘Hi,’ to each other? You completely ignore each other, and why? because you’re in separate houses?”    Draco said nothing, just stared at the redheaded girl because she was right. For Draco, school was a popularity game. He had to only associate with Purebloods, especially those who were in his own house. But even more so, he could never get a chance to talk to the Muggle-born Ravenclaw Seeker he had admired from afar.    But now, since his father was sent away, and his mother was the slightest bit more lenient towards others of lesser blood, it was his chance to show her that he wasn’t a bigoted bully, it was all a mask; a mask he wished he never had to dawn in the first place. And now he was afraid that he had dug his grave too deep and she’d never forgive him for his harsh words. He remembered the first time he met the tiny Ravenclaw.

-

   It was Grace’s second year, Draco’s third, and he had heard about Ravenclaw’s new Seeker, how they were small and agile and had a lot up their sleeves. He just didn’t know who they were.    Until the day of the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match; the Ravenclaw team had just walked into the Great Hall, and the Ravenclaw table broke out in cheers. There was the Team Captain, Davies, then the other two Chasers, Stretton, and Burrow. Their two Beaters, Inglebee and a new member, Samuels. Their Keeper was new as well, Page. The boys were all fine, tall, and strong-looking. Draco never saw any girls on the team, however. That is, until, he saw a small girl in the Ravenclaw uniform, with the number 13 on her back. Her bright red curls bounced with the spring in her step. The girl was significantly shorter than the rest of her team. She stopped in the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables right next to Draco. He turned to her, figuring she had some smart remark to say to him. But instead, her back was turned to him, and she was talking to the Lovegood girl that sat directly behind him. And then something clicked in Draco, the new Seeker, the one he would have to fight for the Snitch, was the little redheaded, Muggle girl he found strangely cute.    “You look so cool, Grace! I know you’re going to do great today at the match. Maybe Ravenclaw will even beat Slytherin!” the pale blonde girl said.    Draco scoffed, “You’re the new Seeker? I thought you had to be a certain height to play Quidditch?” He laughed, and his friends laughed with him.    Grace just turned to him with a lop-sided smile. Her blue eyes shone brighter in contrast to the royal blue and bronze uniform. Draco wouldn’t have blamed her if she spat back at him, or even slapped him. But instead, she held her hand out. And Draco, dumbstruck, took it and shook her hand. “Good luck today, Draco. I’m really excited I finally get to play on the same Pitch as you,” she had adoration in her eyes and a disgusting amount of kindness in her sweet voice. It annoyed Draco, he wanted her to be angry with him, it would make getting over his silly little crush on her.    When he finally snapped out of the trance she put him under, he pulled his hand away from her’s, “Yeah, well, I don’t need luck! Slytherin is undefeated.”    Grace, to Draco’s infuriation, just smiled wider at him and sat next to her friend.    Draco, soon enough, would eat his words. Ravenclaw, for the first time in years, had defeated Slytherin 170-50. Grace McClivert was soon one of the most popular Ravenclaws in her house. Not just for the fact that she had caught the Snitch, but she had caught it with such style and grace.    After she shoved Draco out of the way to get a lead on the Snitch, which Draco will never admit, she shoved pretty hard, the Snitch had flown straight up into the sky. Grace tipped her broomstick up and was vertically flying after the Snitch, but then, the Snitch evened out for a second, then made its way straight down to the middle of the Pitch. Grace, stupidly, followed it the same way she came up, vertically. It was perhaps the most heart-dropping scene Draco had ever seen, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. As she got closer to the ground, and it was certain she would crash, there were screams from the stands, and the faculty stood ready with their wands if something should happen. But at the last second, the Snitch made a sharp turn right, and so did Grace, catching the Snitch. The crowd cheered, she did a few swoops and flips, and Draco just sat there on his broom like an idiot.    Of course, while Grace was being lifted on her team members’ shoulders, being congratulated by Professor Flitwick and a few other professors, Draco was getting eaten alive by his teammates. Although it wasn’t her fault, he had to blame somebody, so he blamed Grace.    As if things weren’t bad enough, he saw his godfather and head of house, Professor Snape, walk towards him. He thought he’d for sure get detention for life for ruining Slytherin’s winning streak, but he walked right past Draco, as if he wasn’t there, and made his way towards Grace. Draco got a little closer to hear what their conversation could possibly be about.    “Miss McClivert!”    Grace whipped her head around, her hair following, and smiled brightly, “Hi, Professor Snape! Did’ya see me? Wasn’t that cool? Look, I caught the Snitch and Roger Davies said that I should keep it so I have a memory of my first game won.” She was obviously overjoyed and proud of her win. For her, it finally meant that she was fitting into this strange new world.    Snape was taken back, but he should have known by now that Grace McClivert was the least bit scared of him. In fact, Grace was put off more by Professor Trelawney than Snape. He sighed, “Yes, I saw you almost crash into the ground with such speed and force that would have killed you!” Draco couldn’t believe it, he was yelling at her because she had put herself in danger, not because she had put the Slytherin team to shame. What bullshit!    “But, Professor, I’m not hurt! Promise!”    “I’m still taking you to Madame Pomfrey to get checked out since your head of house doesn’t seem concerned. Maybe you’re not physically hurt, but mental enough to pull a stunt like that!” However annoyed Snape was with Grace, she just giggled.    “Okay, Professor, if it’ll make you feel better,” then Grace glanced off and her eyes met Draco’s. “Just wait one minute, Professor? I gotta do something.”    Grace made her way over to Draco, who now had a slight blush across his cheeks, “I’m sorry for shoving you, Draco. I hope I didn’t bruise you or anything. You were really great today, though.” Her words were sincere, and she had that stupid smile on her face, and it only made Draco angrier.    “You’re supposed to be aggressive in Quidditch. And you didn’t hurt me, don’t flatter yourself. Stupid Muggle,” Draco spat.    The light behind Grace’s eyes changed as she narrowed them and clenched her fists, “Fine! Then next time, I won’t hold back!” and she stomped away.    Draco got an earful from his uncle, not for losing, but for being mean to Grace when she was showing good sportsmanship even though she had totally whipped Draco’s ass. And Grace didn’t hold back the next Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match. In fact, she had no qualms with shoving Draco into a wooden post on the stands and giving him a concussion. Ravenclaw beat them again, and Draco got beat up by his teammates. But even worse, he had completely ruined any feelings Grace may or may not have had for Draco. She only referred to him as “Malfoy” after that, and gave him dirty glances whenever their eyes met. And still, Draco never got over his ridiculous crush on her.

-

   “What are you thinking about?” Grace snapped her fingers in front of Draco’s face, grabbing his attention.    “Hm? Oh, nothing. What are we watching?” Grace had since fetched her laptop and there was a movie playing in front of them.    “Say Anything. It’s my favorite movie. Like, everyone needs someone like Lloyd Dobbler in their lives,” she didn’t take her eyes off of the screen as she spoke like she would miss something she had missed before.    The movie was actually pretty good, for being a Muggle film. But Draco was more entertained by watching Grace watch the film. Her little smiles and the twinkle in her eyes. Occasionally she would whisper a little tidbit about the film or John Cusak, who she had a crush on when she was twelve and spent the whole summer binge-watching all of his films. Or Draco’s favorite, when she’d murmur, “This is my favorite part,” even though she said it multiple times, so Draco actually didn't know what her true favorite scene was.

[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

[allofbeercom]

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

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

[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/