Archive for the 'Guy Story - No Sex for Guy' Category
Submitted by Oblivious, Age 26, The Netherlands
I met this pretty young girl at sports, but didn’t really pay her much attention. We basically never said a word to each other for half a year, maybe a year or so. Then one evening, the group went out to a club, and all of the sudden, she came on to me quite aggressively. There was some close/erotic dancing, some kissing, but then she had to go, as she had to ride home with somebody.
Read more »
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by James, Age 29
This story is not nearly as funny as most on this site, but I think it’s got something important to say.
I was dating this girl, Tina. She was amazing. Big brown eyes, long blonde hair, hourglass figure. Not only was she beautiful, but she was well-spoken, sweet and intelligent. Even after a couple of dates, I was falling for her. Hard.
One thing bothered me though. At every meal, she would order a salad and water and bust out her diet book to write down absolutely everything she touched to her lips. She even wrote down the number of popcorn kernels she ate when we went to the movies! I asked her why she did this and she said that it was just to keep tabs on what she ate. I thought it was weird, as she was an athletic-looking trim girl, but I let it go.
About a month after I first saw her, I knew that it was going to be “THE NIGHT” when I picked her up. We had a sexually charged dinner and I was just aching to get the bill and get out of there to take this goddess home with me.
I brought her back to my apartment and started kissing her right away, moving straight to my bedroom. She undid my pants and pulled off my shirt. I started to unzip her dress, but then she jumped up to turn off the lights. She got back into bed, and I unzipped her dress. She squirmed out of it and dove under the covers.
I put my hand onto her belly. “Please don’t touch me there” she whispered. I slid my hands down her thigh. “Please, not there.” Her arms. Everywhere.
I got off her and asked her how I was supposed to make love to her if she didn’t let me touch her. She burst into tears about what a “fat cow” she was and how she didn’t want me to see her disgusting “rolls”. It made me so sad to see such a gorgeous wonderful girl so crippled by her low self-esteem.
I spent the rest of the night hugging her close and letting her cry. I’m still with her, and I’m really glad that we didn’t have sex that night because it was the most intimate thing either of us had ever done.
Trust me, ladies, you’re beautiful. There is nothing more beautiful than a naked woman, no matter what she weighs, no matter what her flaws are. From pin-thin to rubanesque, have confidence in yourself and your body and don’t let your weight control you.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by “I don’t wanna talk about it,” Age 24, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
I’m not sure how to describe the place. It was a typical street outside a bar that played loud heavy-metal music and was packed with depressed teenager in black, which I was at the time. I was there sharing beers with a friend. While I was still sober, a girl came to talk to me and said she thought I was cute.
I didn’t respond. Not that I was embarrassed or anything, but I didn’t find her very attractive.
In response to my silence she said, “You don’t liked me. Okay,” and left.
Many beers later (and I do mean MANY) I saw the same girl and told my friend “She’s ugly as hell, but I’ll take her.” I tapped my friend on the shoulder and went to talk to her. I don’t think she gave me time to finish a whole sentence before kissing me. After this kiss, she took me by the arm, heading to the corner.
Read more »
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Rolf, Age 25, UK
It was my brothers stag do. A weekend of getting extremely drunk and a chance to chat up different women in a city I’d never been to before. I’m from a small village so you tend to chat up and get rejected by all the girls pretty quickly. I hadn’t had any action for a while and was starting to riled about it. You know it’s a lean spell when your mates start taking the piss out of you.
The first night was a good laugh, everyone getting extremely drunk, and the next day continued in a similar fashion. It came to the last, and we all went out for a quick bite to eat and then on to the hot spots of the town. We ended up in a super club. Five floors full of different music and about 2000 plus people. I couldn’t fail. I didn’t. We were all dancing (well, if that’s what you call it) when I noticed this not-too-bad-looking bird eyeing me up. I’m thinking “hello,” and the next thing you know, we are getting off with each other. Now, pulling on any stag, especially ones away, is legendary.
The bird then goes to me, “lets go back to mine,” then for some reason I will never know, I suddenly thought, “I don’t have a condom!!” I leave the bird and run ’round the club trying to find my mates, and when I do, they all give me a look of fright. The sight of me, shirt half un-buttoned and sweating frantically, asking for a condom, must’ve, I’m sure, amused them. I eventually manged to harrange some spare change out of one of them and grab some out of the machines.
We then left the club and started to walk back to hers. Then, bizarrely, she insisted on stopping off at the hotel she worked at. We called a taxi and then got back to hers, by which time I was really starting to feel the effects of the weekend’s boozing. We made it into her bedroom, but it was an impossible mission, adding to that about ten text’s asking for mobile phone pictures, and I was done. We fondle around for a bit, but I think I was a big disappointment to her. I said to her at one point, “ I want to do you from behind,” to which she replied, no chance.
I woke in the morning and thought perhaps some better luck, but she was having none of it, and as she went to make a cup of coffee I snuck out the door. Lost in a city I had never been in before, it took me two hours to get home.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Da Man, Age 17
The most stupid thing I’ve ever done. I had a crush on this girl and invited her to a party I gave. I didn’t want to get with her at that party; all I cared about was to have fun, and the funny thing about women is… they love it when you don’t give them all your attention…
Well, at the end of the party, she was pretty much into me, and I brought her to a bus stop where her father was going to pick her up. I was about to kiss her, when her father came, and she wanted to stop the kiss, but I was going into her. The father, a conservative, came out and screamed at me: I should lay my hands off his daughter. I told him to fuck off and continued to kiss her when she slapped me. End of story was that I called her a bitch and then had to run away from her really tall father.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Matthew, Age 61, New England, USA
Then, not getting laid wasn’t what hurt the most. Now, forty-three years later, it is. There’s nothing like being in love the first time. Those feelings last forever.
She was in love with me too, in the same way. We declared that, someday, we would get married.
We were both virgins, but hot to experiment. We met during the summer and had a comfortable place to be alone, and we undressed each other and, without intercourse, made love often.
My friend was in nursing school. She had studied the rhythm method and took her temperature each morning. One night when we were in bed together she said, “I’m not fertile. I want to make love.”
Read more »
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Innocent Loverboy, Age 22, London
I was in my university’s union bar, trying not to let the music get to me while sipping my usual non-alcoholic cocktail. Keeping in line with my life from the age of 18 onwards, I was perpetually single, and to be frank, the idiots getting off with other idiots on the dance floor were offending me. Not because they were getting off, exactly; the dance floor was meant to be used for dancing, in my opinion.
I weaved through the interlocked couples and noticed a discarded condom on the floor. It was still sealed in its packet, and looked fine to me when I inspected it. I pocketed it to add to my stock when I got back to my room.
“Have you met my friend Laura?” asked a girl I vaguely knew from sight. I turned around, and there she was: Laura. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a few extra pounds, and a cheeky, attractive quality. I shifted uncomfortably and flashed my default ‘flirting’ smile.
Read more »
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Francoiz, Age 27, The Netherlands
Two days after my 23rd birthday my girlfriend broke up with me. Facing a lonely two week holiday, I went off for a small vacation to Turkey on my own. Near the place I stayed, I found a good Turkish restaurant in which I enjoyed a superb meal and some good beers. A table next to mine was taken by some English people and a man who turned out to be German. All of them were much older then me (in their forties, I guess) but they invited me to join them after dinner. So I did. Drinking beer, having fun, drinking even more beer, having some good discussions, and eventually drinking more beer.
Midnight had passed a few hours ago and I was there sitting in an almost empty restaurant facing another beer and this 43-year-old (big) German when he suddenly announced he was a gay male (I already had noticed he was male, but not that he was gay). I told him I respect everyone, that it didn’t bother me, and that I still enjoyed the conversation we had.
But what came next stunned me in such a way that I can never forget this meeting with this man:
He bends forward a little bit and says: “I can give u a blow if u like “.
I gasped for air and held my chair tight (very tight!). I must have told him about the girlfriend who broke up with me a couple of days earlier. It crossed my mind that he could have meant something else. In Holland, a hash-filled cigarette is called a ‘blow’ or a joint.
I asked: “U mean a blowjob??”
Confirmative.
All I remember is that NOTHING HAPPENED. I walked back to my hotel room, went to sleep, and woke up the next morning with a terrible pain in the HEAD.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by J. Wordsworth, Age 26, Seattle
I was a freshman in high school. I was 6′3″, skinny, wore glasses and took AP and honors classes. As you can imagine, I was completely inept when it came to girls. Utterly incompetent. I was incapable of saying anything remotely intelligent. I was also painfully aware of how awkward I was, which was a vicious cycle as far as my penis was concerned.
In my biology class I noticed this girl. She was attractive, and more importantly, she talked to me. More accurately, she had to talk to me as she was my lab partner. She was into drama and also ballet. I didn’t know why I was drawn to a girl with demonstrated flexibility at the time; I just vaguely knew that it was good for a girl to be flexible (probably natural male instinct). She also had a car. And a license. I was 15 and had neither. Perfect scenario for me.
Read more »
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Michael, 19, Helsinki, Finland
For some reason I tend to end up dating girls with some sort of self-issues. Because of this, getting beyond third base is an even bigger leap than usually.
We had gone to bed like so many times before and were doing mutual masturbation. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite mutual. I was doing it fairly right from the sound of it, but her idea of masturbating me was still pretty much grabbing my private parts more than firmly enough and jerking them as if she were trying to pull them loose. It hurt. A lot.
She had self-issues and I tried my best to not fuel them, but I had to stop her. It was simply not enjoyable in even the most remote sense. She burst into tears over it, and what started as a steamy evening ended with me trying to awkwardly comfort a girl who was absolutely convinced she was a complete failure as a woman.
I blame Sex and the City for giving her that idea.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by Bradley, Age 25, Quebec
I’ve never been much of a pick-up artist; in part because the idea of one night stands has never particularly interested me, and second (which might really be the reason for that first part), because I’ve never managed to hook one up, rare though the attempts were.
That being said, I guess I’m not so great at picking up signals from girls who might actually be interested. And by signals, I mean blatant offers… Case in point:
I’m at the bar. Now, when I go to the bar, it’s to get drunk, not laid. So, I was, well, pretty damned drunk. To date, that’s my excuse.
So I’m at the bar, and I see a girl I knew vaguely from work. By “know,” I mean that I knew her name. She knew mine, and we’d exchanged the occasional hello. That’s about it.
So we get to some small-talk at the bar, and I don’t think we’d properly gotten past the “how’s it goin’?” phase of the conversation before she asks me if I need a place to stay for the night.
Now, like I said, not so much with the picking up on (blatant) signals.
So in a confident voice, I tell her, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m crashing on my friend’s couch.”
And that was that. She went off hunting for more apt candidates, and I took a couple of hours to figure out that I’d essentially declined a bald offer of sex…
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
Submitted by JP
note: this falls a little outside the norm for stories, but it seems to be in the spirit of the website.
I was getting physical with a girl I worked with at a Christian camp. We had spent the entire summer focusing on our work and not noticing our increasing attraction to each other until camp ended and things got intense fast. Over the course of our encounters throughout the week, we had approached second base, but were still admittedly some time away from “sealing the deal”, so to speak. Things were definitely headed in that direction though, and as young infatuation tends, our conversations crept towards speculations of the future and long-lasting love.
On one of our frequent walks, we had a discussion about marriage, as a principle. I made the mistake of telling her about some of my more unconventional (considering our conservative context) views of marriage- as in, I didn’t need the government’s approval to be married and I doubted I’d be interested in a legal ceremony.
Well, it was as if the wind rushed through the window and blew the candle out. This notion of mine flew in the face of her more traditional views, and she said, not quite so plainly, but on the spot, that if our views on marriage didn’t complement each other, well, what was the point of going any further?
Needless to say, there would be no doubles or triples from that point on, much less a trip around the bases. The fire had been doused by a bucket of holy water.
The first lesson? Know your audience. I would have liked it if things had gone on a little longer, but I was too idealistic and naive to think that something as simple as an opinion on marriage could deter blinding passion.
The second? Think twice before getting involved with a conservative.
CLICK STARS TO RATE THIS STORY:
Loading ...
(25 votes, average: 3.52 out of 5)