Archive for December 2006
(Another story that breaks the guy-gets-rejected-by-girl mold. Do enjoy. - SF)
I knew he was a player. We belonged to the same Jewish group on campus, and he would arrive at each monthly potluck with a new flavor on his arm. She was always petite. Always pretty. Secretly, I compared myself to these girls and wondered how I stacked up.
He’d given me a ride home once, and we stopped for a coffee that lasted two and a half hours. Conversation was effortless. He made me feel like there was no one else in the world but me. A crush was born. But although we both agreed we should “do this again sometime,” we somehow never did. I forgot about my crush and didn’t see him again for three months.
Then we hooked up. It was April. A mutual friend was celebrating her birthday at a dance club, and I was 10 minutes away from jetting, when he walks in. We danced. Closely. And then … we were kissing.
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We’ve all been there. We’ve all had moments when the need for personal comfort overrides the need for sex. For me, there has been no better example of this than the following story.
It was July 2001, the pre-9/11 New York City summer of carefree fun. Summer in NYC can be hot and this particular July was no exception. The mercury was boiling as the temperature was well over 100 degrees during the day and only dropped down to the low 80’s at night.
On this particular night, I figured I had no choice but to grin and bare the excessive heat, especially since I had a hot date.
I took this lovely lady out to a nice dinner on the Upper West Side, and she decided that she wanted me to walk her home. I had no problem with this.
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(When I first got the idea for this website, it never occurred to me that some people out there might literally be looking for ways to avoid getting laid. Enter a formerly closeted gay male friend of mine. I hope you enjoy his story as much as I did. – SF)
Try being an “ambiguously” gay man your entire life when trying to get with girls. One girl I dated was extremely out of my league. Beautiful. I never brought up sex, but she kept hinting. If I wanted to hide my sexual orientation, I couldn’t duck the issue forever. Out of pure fear from having to have intercourse, I decided upon an alternate strategy. I would make the sex all about her. In a place I liked to call: Every Girl’s Fantasy. I would get her off before I ever had to have sex.
Well, I went downtown, and, sure enough, she had an orgasm. But afterwards, I think her exact quote was, “please put it in.” I – being gay and all – was as soft as my limp wrist.
I said, ” I don’t have any condoms.” Strategic, I know. She said, “It’s okay, I’m on the pill.” Then I said, “I always want to play it safe anyway.” and then she of course said, “You don’t trust me.” I had three choices at this point: have sex, please her orally again, or carry out the whole “trust” argument.
I took a deep breath, used my finger, used my tongue, and brought her to orgasm again. To this day, she claims I was the best she ever had at pleasing her orally.
BOYS, PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! JUST COME OUT! IT’S MUCH EASIER!
Submitted by Nate, Age 28, Chicago
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Her: “So what do you do for a living?”
Me: “I’m an unemployed actor.”
Works EVERY time.
Submitted by B.D., Age 33, NYC
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The good thing about totally giving up on women is that it gives you a lot of freedom. For instance, if you want to go see a movie about “The Band”, you don’t have to worry that your date will find it boring or say “what band?” or something equally disappointing. So when the Band’s “The Last Waltz” was playing at the local cineplex, I jumped at the opportunity. To be safe, I chose a Friday matinee to avoid the embarrassment of going to a movie by myself, surrounded by happy couples.
As I was buying my ticket, a beautiful woman, around my age, walked up to the window next to me and bought a ticket for the same exact show. She, too, was alone.
Now I’m thinking: this is a sign from God. There I was, feeling like a loser for going to this movie by myself on a Friday afternoon, and in walks a woman with the same idea. And she’s gorgeous.
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On a recent trip to Mexico, my friend and I met two American guys in an Irish pub (Yes, we went to an Irish pub in Mexico; it was recommended by our waitress). One of the bar’s regulars had already had his hands all over me, so when we were approached by two new guys schooled in American social graces, we welcomed their company. Nice enough guys. We probably wouldn’t have been friends with them back in the States, but good times had by all.
I wound up as the keeper of the email addresses, and upon our return to the States, I sent an email to my friend with everyone cc’ed. “Hey guys, just wanted to touch base with everyone’s email addresses. Photos shortly; hope you had a great rest of trip!”
A few days later, I had an email from Mike, who my friend and I agreed was the cuter of the two.
It began: “Hey, what a surprize to hear from you!”
Continued with a few details about “interesting” museums he’d seen, and ended with “I almost never make it to the city (New York, i.e., where I live), but it’s only about an hour away. Maybe I just need a good excuse, hint hint…”
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I was at a party during college once and was talking to this girl. Her face was just okay, but her body was awesome. I kept picturing what it would look like naked and what it would feel like.
So somehow, the conversation gets to this place where we’re talking about sex, and she tells me she’s a “born again virgin.” Eager to do anything that will get me closer to doing it with her, I tell her that I too am a born again virgin. Not smart.
So things progress and I find myself back in her room making out. Things are getting good, so I ask her if she has a condom, to which she replies, “But you’re a born again virgin.”
What could I do? If I’d told her the truth, she would’ve tossed me out, so I had no choice but to play the part. Needless to say, my born again virginity was not lost that night.
Submitted by Paul, Age 32, NY
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(Some names of people and places have been changed)
We were at the Peppermint Boar gentleman’s club in Las Vegas for my friend’s bachelor party. As the night progressed, it became obvious that my friend Brad had disappeared for a good three hours. This is his story …
Upon entering the strip club, Brad decided to make a bee line for the VIP Room on the second floor (without telling any of us). Here in the VIP Champagne Room, he bought an expensive bottle of champagne and a Russian stripper. He proceeded to pour the champagne on the naked stripper’s body in increments and drink it off her. Steadily as the night went on, drink after drink and lap dance after lap dance, he became totally and utterly loaded. The stripper started hinting at the fact that she would also be a prostitute for him that night and that she wanted to feel his manliness inside her. Wasted Brad gets very excited and in his state decides that this would be a fantastic idea.
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How not to get laid?
Send a text message that says “I love you!” after a third date.
Yes, this happened to me.
Submitted by “Restraining order, please!”, Age 28, New York City
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I met a girl my freshman year of college who seemed to have it all going for her. I was very intrigued, but didn’t have enough hair on my chest to talk to her. Instead, I decided that a better idea was to run for student government and my “campaign strategy” was to head over to her dorm and knock on doors… in hopes of meeting her and actually sparking a conversation.
Well two trips to those f’ing dorms later, not only did I not connect with this young lady - but I also won the stupid election.
To make matters worse, I met another girl while I was in student government. She was nice, attractive and very smart. She was on the university’s swim team. Unfortunately, my mandatory student government office hours were set at the only times during the week that she was free from her athletic and class responsibilities. Not being able to see her at normal times and hours, quickly led to a breakdown of that relationship. Hence again, not getting laid.
Moral of the story: Do not run for student government in hopes of getting laid… This will simply backfire.
Submitted by George, Age 30, Waltham, MA
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The fairy tale adventure of my romantic life just keeps on playing . . .
A male friend who’s been around for the last year recently broke up with his fiancé. Almost immediately, he turned his attention to me. He made my head turn for about a half a second until suddenly, we were talking, and there was something just lewd about him. All character was stripped and he seemed, eh, I don’t know, not the person I’d known for the last year. I barely recognized him. I called him on it . . .
He told me he was looking for a one night stand to get over his ex and knew I’d “be up for the ride”. I was silenced while he continued – yes, continued! – saying that with my background in theatre, there’s no way I was the “good-girl” I presented myself to be, though “the whole catholic girl routine and clothing” totally works for him (he said this with a wink, naturally).
I probably should have slapped him, but instead, for some unknown reason, I didn’t. Instead, I asked what would make him think that I’d be up for such a proposal. He said, “Oh, I figured shallow and not-too-bright were a good combination for a one night stand. C’mon, it’s just sex. We’ll both have a good time. Let’s go.”
The funny thing is, I liked him before this conversation. Who knows where things may have led had he not been such a prick. Think it, don’t say it. No, try not to even think it.
Submitted by Sarah Clay, London
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(Welcome! Since this is to be a website where I ask complete strangers to spill their guts about things that happened to them in the past, I suppose it’s only fair that I use this inaugural post to share an anecdote of my own. Please enjoy this story and all those that follow! with love, Stewart)
I was a virgin at the time. Most of the stories begin this way. Fresh out of college, Benjamin Braddock had nothing on me. I was horny, repressed, and overeager.
The terrible thing about being a twenty-something virgin – aside from all the obvious things – is that I was never able to approach a romantic relationship with the same sort of carefree nature my peers could. For me, every date, every girlfriend, every interaction with the opposite sex became loaded. Will she be the one? Will this be my chance to lose the scarlet V emblazoned on my chest?
Not long after graduation, I spent four months traveling around the country with a group of actors. Very quickly, I managed to couple up with the girl I considered to be the “hot one” of the bunch. I’d like to say this made me the alpha male of the group, but in truth, I think it just made me lucky. She was smart and funny and said she used to model, which I got a real kick out of. She may have modeled for the Toys ‘R’ Us catalog when she was five for all I knew. Didn’t matter. My young ego was sufficiently stoked.
She was cheating on her boyfriend with me, which I was okay with because it didn’t seem like that relationship was going to last. Furthermore, the illicit nature of our road-trip romance made it all the more exciting for both of us. We were sneaking around motels across the southern part of the country, making out and getting all hot and heavy. Surely, I thought, it was just a matter of time. Read more »
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(4.72 out of 5)
(17 votes, average: 4 out of 5)