So, it’s a thursday. Day of the big theory exam. Turns out everyone did great and passed, so a few of us decide to go drinking that night to celebrate. Being the one who rarely drinks I volunteered to being the designated driver to drive us all to and from the bar. So, we get to the bar/pool hall around 7. We’re shooting pool for awhile, as the hours go on the place starts coming to life, more people are showin’ up. Some sitting by the bar with friends, some shooting some pool, small pockets of women dancing with eachother. Later in the night as we’re still shooting pool a woman in her late 30’s brings out a chair and sits next to our pool table. She’s a pretty woman. Brunette, green eyes. She’s wearing a short black dress that show off her fantastic curves, and low cut to show off her cleavage. She’s sitting next to us for about 15 minutes, texting away on her phone, ocassionally glancing up at us. She gets up, goes to the bar to grab another glass of wine. My group of friends start making comments saying “she’s a cougar on the prowl looking to get laid!”. Being the only single one in my group, my friends kept harassing me to speak to her. I was having self doubt because of the amount of time she was there for and no one had spoken to her yet, I thought what chance would I stand? She gets up, goes to the washroom, leaving her jacket and phone on her chair. At this point my friends are ribbing me even harder to “go for it”. She comes back. Sits in her chair. Legs apart. I’m talkin’ wide open, vagina showing. My friend takes notice, and whispers it to the rest of us. Now, the place is dark, I’m not wearing my glasses. So I cant fully see for myself whether his claims were true or not. So I walk to her side of the pool table to take a shot, chalk up my cue. Oops, I dropped the chalk. I bend down, reach for it by her chair, and I look between her legs. I see her fully shaved pantiless beaver staring me right in the face. I get up, continue my game of pool. We finish the game, I tell my friends I won’t play the next round. Here I am mustering up the courage to talk to this pantiless woman. Finally, I bring my chair over to hers. Let’s call this woman Mollie, to keep her anonymous. “You’ve been here a while, are you waiting for someone?”. She replied “kind of, depends on the person”. “What do you mean it depends on the person?” I ask, she repies “Well, I’m playing this game with my husband. He’s at the bar right now. We’re playing out a fantasy we read about”. Now, I’m slightly weirded out, but intrigued that she has a husband sitting at the bar, yet here she is flashing us her cooter. So I move in closer and ask, “So, what kind of fantasy is this? Explain it to me”. “Well, I’m seeing if I can attract the attention of a younger man, my husband doesn’t think I can, so I’m here to prove him wrong”. I ask her to describe her husband so I can pinpoint him in the bar. found him! He’s a stocky guy, 5’10, clean haircut, goatee. Mollie and I are chit chatting a bit, I ask her what the end goal of her night is. She was hesitant to say and wouldn’t give me a straight answer. A few minutes go by and she starts being flirty with the other guys as they bend over in front of us to take their shot. She spanks one of their ass’. I think it’s odd, but I drop it quickly. It happens again when someone else came near us to take a shot. I think to myself, she doesn’t want my attention, she wants everyones. I know women like this. I also know how to handle it from past bar experiences. The classic “Bait and release” I move in to whisper in her ear “Listen Mollie, it looks like you’re more interested in my friends then you are in me, I’m going to go back to them, it was nice meeting you”. I shake her hand, grab my chair, and bring it over to another friend a few feet away creating some distance between Mollie and I. My friend asks me what happened. I smirk and say “watch this”. Mollie looks at me a few seconds later then says “aww, come back here”. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of thinking I’m going to go out of my way to go to her a second time and thus give her the “Power”, I merely give her the “come hither” motion with my finger and tell her to come to me. Mollie gets up, walks over to me. That’s it, I have the “power” now. Ball is in my court. She’s showing more interest in me this time as we continue chatting. A few minutes go by, then she says we should go outside for a smoke. I agree. I don’t even have time to tell my friends where I’m going, she’s pulling my hand across the bar to the stairs to go downstairs and outside. Here we are outside. She’s smoking. We’re chatting. She’s got lovely large breasts. Almost too big to be real. And before I could stop myself I’m already mid sentence “Are your breasts real?” Mollie goes on to tell me they are implants. She pulls one breast out to show me the scars around her nipple of where the inserted the silicone. I think to myself, “I wonder if I can get her to let me touch them”, I tell her I’ve never felt fake breasts before. She asks me if I wanna feel. Here I am on the sidewalk outside the bar, with this woman asking if I want to feel her breasts. I accept. I stick my hand down the top of her dress. I’m touching fake boobs I thought. Wow. This is great. She tells me to squeeze them. I do, as two guys walk right by us. One looks back and smiles. With my hand on her breasts, looking at this guy watching us I notice her husband is also outside, having a smoke behind the entrance of a nearby store. He’s watching us. “oh shit, oh shit” I think to myself. I say “lets go back inside”. She puts out her smoke, we go back in, walk up the stairs. I look for a place to go that’s somewhat in private so we can chat alone. I guide her to a table at the back of the bar. We sit down and start chatting. Turns out. I forgot my fucking sweater. I’ve just bailed, the last thing I wanted to do was run back up and grab my sweater. So I ask my friend to. He goes up, comes back down 2 minutes later empty handed. What the fuck. Where’s my sweater. I tell him it’s at the table by Mollie. He claims to have checked there. But I know it’s there! So I tell them to wait on me while I get my sweater. I go back into the bar, go to the table, grab my sweater. Mollie is at the bar getting another drink. I tell her husband it’s cold out, and I’m going to talk to my friends while they have a smoke break. He seems insistant on me not leaving. He probably knew something was up. He told me Mollie will be back any second now. I lie through my teeth and say “that’s fine, I’ll be back up in a few minutes.” I couldn’t admit the truth, I just wanted out of there as soon as possible. I walked away, down the stairs, got out the bar. and my friends were laughing hysterically. The whole drive home I kept hearing “Oh, you should’ve banged his wife while he sat on a chair, pants down to his ankles jerking off”. All I could think was, I potentionally just stopped myself from getting raped by this guy. I made the right choice. I’m sure of it.. I would’ve banged the shit out of her under different circumstances, but that night, I made the right choice. My friends on the other hand, will never let this night down. Ever.
the morning ritual that every australian does in the morning
"I would do that with deer like every morning"
So as I’m sitting on the toilet I ponder aboit what I should talk about..so instead I’ll share a story with you.
I (Dean) tend not to wear sweat pants and Kate asked why, I said “cause it reminds me of people who shit themselves and try to hide it” ..cause in elementary school this kid in my grade, Eddy would come to school and wear sweat pants but always shit in them…anyways I digress… Kate throught that was pretty funny, and very weird. We went on with our day and as we come home I feel the urge to shit…and we are 2 mins from the house. Being both polite and discrete I said to Kate..uh if you are going to need to use the washroom you should do it before I get in there..hinting that she should probably hurry the fuck up cause this guy has got to go. I’m honestly clenching, and trying to hold in this shit, and I could feel like it wasn’t a regular one either it was for sure diarrhea. As she finishes up in the bathroom ( which felt like forever ) I hurried in and before I could even get my pants down …it happened I shit myself at the prime age of 24…I secretly put on new pants..underwear etc and about an hour later Kate sees me from her room and says…”oh you changed…why did you change?” “Did you shit yourself or something”.. (she says jokingly)…I’m like OMG Kate you bitch I did .. coincidentally after telling her that storry bout Eddy the sweat pant shit artist from elementary I happen to accidentally shit myself in sweat pants that same day.
At some point, I have “flicked my bean”, as you like to put it, while you have been in the bathroom shitting.
So I am currently in a womams clothing store with Kate. She is trying on clothes and I have a shirt on that I have been wearing for two days. I just took a quick inspection only to find that I have a cum stain on my shirt from last night’s excursion to my favorite crusing area. Kate will probably read this post when we get home..so I need t find a shirt to buy here at the mall..FML Fucking Protein Stains!!
* BTW Kate, those pants make your ass look so hot!! Shake what yo mamma gave ya.
Me and Dean have such an interesting relationship. So, he’s all about gay porn and cum and swallowing cum. He loves it, so he tells me. That’s cool. And I was like “Do you know who Peter North is?” Naturally, he said no. (He honestly lives in a bubble). So I told him that Peter North was this legendary cummer. We went on xvideo and watched this Peter North cumming marathon. Some of his responses:
“These girls are wasting all that cum” (because he likes to swallow)
“He should get over here right now” (and then I would probably have to watch Dean swallow Peter North’s cum)
NWAL - NEVER WASTE A LOAD *Dean
I come home from a job interview to Dean telling me that he was jerking off on the balcony and someone saw and asked to come up.
Yes, he is the expert cruiser. He doesn’t even need to leave the house.
Dean just discovered Pinterest. While he was looking through, he saw a vase full of coffee beans and a candle. He asked me if him liking it made him more gay. I said no, not thinking much of the picture. He then came across this musical centerpiece of some sort and said “Oh my God, Pinterest, where have you been all my life?”
That’s the moment I said, “Now that makes you gay.”
Love you, Dean!