At one point after I had left college for the first time I moved into a house with my friend Kyle. Shortly after we moved into our place we had a steady stream of people moving in and living on either our couch, recliner, or floor. Due to the amount of people that were always staying at our house Kyle and I decided to live with a few more friends. We figured instead of them crashing at our place for free we might actually get actual help with the bills if they were living with us. So six of us got a place; Marty, of the Marty who slept with the girl on the short bus story, his little brother Dave, Dave’s friend Spoon, our friend Darryl, Kyle and I all moved into a large house conveniently located closer to the bars in Geneseo.
Of course moving in with more guys meant the house was that much messier. Dave and Spoon had just graduated high school and this was the first time they had lived on their own. So the whole concept of cleaning up after themselves was foreign. Needless to say our kitchen looked like Fallajuah most of the time. With none of us wanting to do dishes. It was so bad that I would eat cereal from time to time out of the part of the coffee machine where you would put the grounds. I would just plug the hole at the bottom or tape it shut. It was ghetto student living at its best. Except I wasn’t a student anymore but it was all fun and good times.
At this time I was drinking a lot, probably even to the determent of my health. I was dj’ing at a bar and basically getting paid to drink for free. Mix the dj’ing, the girl to guy ratio (8 to 1), and tons of booze well it added up to a phase in my life that would be impossible to relive.
Since Dave and Spoon were just out of high school and the only guys not living with their parents while attending community college or having to stay with them while on break from school there were always tons of “kids” at our house. I’d come in after a night out at the bar and they would be like 15 people in our living room and I wouldn’t know who any of them were.
On one of these nights I brought home a lady from the bar, where we proceeded to ascend the stairs to my bedroom. Now my room was above the living room, and the house was rather old. So you could hear pretty much everything that ever occurred in that place, good or bad and well let’s just say a few young minds were shaped that night. I am going to reveal something about myself:
=never ending sex.
Ever since the Marty incident I made wrapping it a major priority, the cotton swap into the pee hole story sealed the deal for me. When I am drunk though and using a condom it is a marathon, admittedly not always for the better.
After a marathon sex session I felt the need for some hydration, and so did my date. I rolled out of bed and threw on a pair of what I thought were button up front boxers. I stumbled down to the living room to a stirring round of applause and some comments. So I was my typical drunk smart ass self asking them if they were taking notes. Commenting to the ladies that if they ever wanted loving like that all they would have to do is knock on my door. Of course all this is coming out of my mouth as Mr. Winkie kept poking through my boxers, which of course were not buttoned properly.
At this time in my life I was about 30 pounds heavier with a nice little beer gut. So to say this was not an attractive site would be an understatement. I decided at this point that I needed something to eat before I brought the water back upstairs. Since our kitchen was the normal mess I couldn’t even find a knife to put Miracle Whip on bread. Instead I decided to wrap cheese in bologna and dip it into the miracle whip and eat it like that. So there I was standing in the kitchen dipping the cheese and bologna into miracle whip, in my boxers with my cock hanging out. In my drunken condition I of course wasn’t noticing the miracle whip falling onto my chest, beer gut, and boxers. So the entire room of people were transfixed and grossed out.
I am sure they were probably making comments, even groaning, possibly vomiting, but I was in drunken miracle whip and bologna bliss. I grabbed the water, went back upstairs and passed out.
The next morning I woke up and crawled into the shower. While looking in the mirror I saw this caked on shit on my chest. So I was wondering how I dropped a load on my chest, I was trying to remember what happened the night before to see if something freaky happened. Thank god Dave reminded me about the miracle whip incident otherwise it would have been a question that would have boggled my mind for years.
The Moral of the Story: Reverse cowgirl anal is not for everyone to hear. Just kidding. The moral is go get a slice of pizza before you have sex and keep bottled water in your room.
Oh and a nice little postscript to the story I would wind up dating one of the girls in the living room for over two years. I guess Miracle Whip does make everything that much better.