1. This is what happens when you trade fruit for a make-out session.
“On the last day of Burning Man (the
annual arts festival held in the middle of the Nevada desert, in case
you don’t know about that kind of shit), my girlfriend and I found
ourselves with a surplus of fruit but nothing substantial to eat. Since
there’s nothing to buy at Burning Man, you have to trade what you’ve got
for what you want. So my friend and I decided to do some bartering.
Wearing jean shorts, pasties, and cowboy hats, we marched around camp
screaming: “Melons! We’ve got melons! Who wants some melons?”
We attracted a lot of attention and earned
some hearty snacks. But when this one super hot guy approached us and
asked for some watermelon, my gut told me to demand a kiss instead of
food in exchange for the fruit. We embraced in the most amazingly
passionate, impromptu way, and then he handed me his business card and
ducked away.
Two months later, I was passing through my
watermelon crush’s hometown of San Francisco and we met up for dinner.
Back at his place, it quickly became apparent that he was into BDSM.
Since our entire relationship up until then was based on seizing the
moment, I decided to go with the flow, even though I had zero related
experience. I let him pin me down and tie me up. It was intense and fun.
I woke up with the distinct feeling that I’d never see him again (to
this day, I haven’t)—but that only made the whole thing more memorable.”
2. My wife and I made a pact to have sex at every wedding we attend.
“After I got married, understanding how
much work and money goes into the whole thing made me determined to make
the most of every wedding I’m invited to. It was during my wife’s best
friend’s reception (yes, she was a bridesmaid) that I suggested making a
pact to fool around during every single wedding we go to. She was down.
We figured the best time to execute our
secret mission was during the father-daughter dance, since all eyes
would be focused on the bride. As soon as “Tiny Dancer” started playing,
we slipped out and ran towards a garden shed we’d spotted earlier, on
the outskirts of the country club hosting us.
We screwed like mad, and we both came
really fast. As we were getting dressed, we noticed a waiter leaning up
against a nearby tree, smoking a joint. The idea that we’d been watched
didn’t creep us out at all—it was sexy, and hilarious. We waived to the
guy, high-fived and headed back to the party like nothing had happened.
We’ve fucked at ten different weddings since, but nothing compares to
that first time when we had a little audience of our own. I really do
love my wife.”
3. A lunchtime quickie gone (somewhat) wrong.
“Since I work really close to my
boyfriend’s apartment, it’s not unusual for me to head over on my lunch
break (he’s a freelance web designer) for an afternoon quickie. One
afternoon this past winter, I walked into his place and started
unbuttoning my shirt immediately, calling for him to join me in the
living room. After five wasted minutes, I found him cowering in the
bathroom. In an effort to “get ready” for me, it turns out he’d decided
to try my dildo out on himself and he’d gotten the thing stuck really
far up his ass!
I
ended up spending my lunch hour using various kitchen tools (turkey
baster, tongs, scissors etc.) trying to dislodge the thing.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t made much progress when it was time for me to go
back to work.
When I came home that night, the dildo was
still protruding from his butt, so I drove him to the Emergency Room.
To save him the indignity of admitting that he’d been playing around by
himself, I told the doctors I’d shoved the thing up his ass.
They were able to remove the sex toy, thank goodness, and as soon as we
exited the hospital, we started cracking up. There’s nothing like a
dildo lodged in a man’s ass to bring a couple closer together. To
celebrate—and because we were both so damn sexually frustrated by
then—we did it in the car right there in the parking lot. I swear the windows steamed up.............
4. I couldn’t resist the hot male stripper at my best friend’s birthday party.
“My best friend from college is a total
prude. She needs someone like me in her life to make sure she gets out
and has a little fun once in a while—or so I tell myself. For her
twenty-fifth birthday, I conspired with a few of our sorority sisters to
throw her a party with a little special entertainment.
The male stripper arrived around 9pm, and
he was as ripped and chiseled as I’d hoped (I handpicked “the talent,”
of course). The man was straight-up gorgeous, and I knew I had to have
him. Obviously I couldn’t hit on him right away, though, because it
wasn’t my night. What I did is let my bestie get
near-alcohol-poisoning wasted. Sure enough, around 11pm she passed out
on the couch and I saw my opportunity.
I grabbed my jacked friend by his muscley
arm and led him to my best friend’s bedroom. We started getting it on
right away and it was awesome—maybe even more so because we were rolling
around in those untouched sheets, dirtying that pristine bed. But
fifteen minutes in, my friend stumbled into the room and screamed at us
to get out. My gigolo packed up and left, but not before tucking a
napkin with his number on it into my handbag. Twenty-four hours later,
we were at it again—at my place. The pleasure delay only made us more
ravenous for each other. That orgasm was one of the greats.”
“Recently, I was on the rebound from a
five year long relationship when I found myself alone at home on a
Friday night with absolutely nothing to do. When you date someone for
that long, your whole lives become intertwined and separating socially
is complicated and frustrating. After sipping a few whiskeys at my
place, I decided to head to the bar down the street instead of sitting
around looking at my half empty apartment, which my girlfriend—the love
of my life, I still thought—had just abandoned. That place depressed the
fuck out of me.
At the bar, I ordered a Bud and a shot of
Jameson and sat there for a while, keeping to myself. Soon enough,
though, a really hot girl sat down next to me and starting chatting me
up about this and that. It was unbelievable, really, how beautiful she
was (or how drunk I was). And then the impossible happened: She asked me if we could go somewhere to be alone.
Ten minutes later we were back at my
place, ripping each other’s clothes off. I could sense that something
was different about this chick, so it wasn’t even all that surprising
when she unbuckled the thin belt she had on and demanded that I wrap it
around her neck like a leash and walk her around like a dog. Not really
my thing, but I obliged. Then I banged her, doggy style, on my kitchen
floor! I don’t care what anyone thinks: Random sex is the best way to
get over your ex.”
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