It was a Wednesday night, so of course, I'm getting hammered. I'm upstairs on the second floor of "the house" when at about 11 PM some females finally show up. (These were the days of social probation, a time every bro must go through if they're truly a bro.) I'm pretty drunk, one of those 10 beer buzzes that are oh so common in my life, and instantly one of the girls recognizes me and begins to chat it up. She isn't the most attractive thing in the world, kind of like a big-titted Sarah Silverman. So, obviously, I try and avoid the situation. Then I realize that there aren't many other females here, I'm horny, and my D hasn't been touched in two or three weeks. I turn to my big ol' buddy FP and tell him my situation. Of course, he encourages me to hook up with her.
He then proceeds to encourage me by handing me a 40 of that smooth Hurricane malt liquor we're all so fond of and demanding that I chug it. Of course, I proceed. As I'm chugging it, I begin to realize that my stomach wants no part of this, and I get that sweaty mouth feeling building in my throat. Trying to out-bro everyone in the room, I put it down as fast as I can, and run out of the room with my arms up like I'm a champ, but its actually because I'm clenching my throat holding back 40 vomit. I race to the can, admirably get on my knees and hurl my guts out. There's chunks of Jim's Beef Stroganoff taking a leisurely swim with some Chicken Fingers and Mustard. Gross. (I like to capitalize my foods.)
Well, shit, now I'm not drunk. I just puked out all my booze. Gotta take shots. I sneak past the room I was in, go to another room, find whiskey, and pound 4 consecutive shots alone to get drunk enough to hook up with this girl. Once I'm done, my breath smelling like whiskey vomit, I go back in the room to find FP and the girl playing 21 cup pong against Blonde Jew and some other ugly ho. FP asks me loudly to the room how my puke was. I quickly deny that I vomited and insist that I had to pee like a racehorse. The girl giggles and eyes me, so I ask her if she wants to get out of there. (It's only 11:30 at this point, they just arrived. If she leaves, she either really wants it, or she's a ho.)
She readily agrees. We go back to her room. I pin her down, we're making out (joke's on her, my mouth is pure vomit at this point) and being to undress her. I get her naked, I'm completely clothed, I'm feeling good that I'm going to penetrate this female. Immediately I begin to perform cunnilingus on her nether regions (which need a good trim I must say). Whatever, a vagina is a vagina, I do this all the time. Cunnilingus is my forte. Mid-performance, I realize that those shots of whiskey may come back up and exit via my oral cavity. I get up, say "My bad, I gotta puke" and exit to the bathroom.
What I didn't realize at the time, but now realize, is that she probably thought I need to puke due to her stanky unshaven vagina. This was totally false, I can handle any vagina thrown at me, but she doesn't know that! After I vomited again, I return to her room to find that she isn't there. I waited, and I waited, thinking she was in the bathroom. I then realize that all of her clothes are no longer on the floor. She left her own goddamn room to get away from me.
I walk back in the cold without a jacket to my room, unsatisfied, lacking coitus, smelling of vomit, my dick shriveling to the size of a pea. Moral of the story: Don't ever tell a girl you have to puke while you're eating her vagina, even an ugly one.
Regrettably Honest,
Thaddeus Bonefish
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