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A Story And A Query: Your Worst Moment During Sex? - The Watchtower of Destruction: The Ferrett's Journal
August 24th, 2003
01:07 pm

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A Story And A Query: Your Worst Moment During Sex?

If I had to reduce my life down to two stories, I know what I would choose. One has already been written; the other I have never set to paper, since whenever I write down one of my best stories I can no longer tell it at parties. I launch into my funniest anecdotes, and people just wave their hand and say, "Oh yeah, I read that."

But this is one of my favorite stories ever - and I write it down now because it is my most embarassing sex story. It occurred to me that I want to hear yours. At the end of this entry, there is an anonymous comments feature enabled: Tell me the most hideously embarassing thing that's happened to you during, or in the pursuit of, sex.

The Ferrett's Story
Bari and I broke up so often, our friends had rules on how to handle us:

  • Say nothing.
  • Do not date either of them.
  • Keep inviting them both to parties, same as always.

It wasn't that our breakups weren't serious; oh, they were so serious that they frequently involved three-hour shouting matches, suicide attempts in public places, and very often thrown items. Our breakups were like Amish barn raisings; if you were there, you were gonna lend a hand.

But the fireworks appeared to be some kind of crazy mating ritual. Bari and I would part, angry and furious and determined never to speak to each other again... And then we'd go to a party. We'd both be horny and angry, and nobody at the party would be interested in us. As the night went on, we'd look at each other across a room and remember the main thing that defined our relationship back then:

The best goddamned sex ever.

Bari and I were magnificent in bed, Olympic-quality. And as we all know, make-up sex is the best sex you can have - a gumbo of resentment, desperation, and love that becomes a sweet, sticky fucknectar. We'd have the best intentions, we'd both know this was bad for us... But near the end of the night, we'd be making out on the couch furiously, and sometimes we'd just go out and hump in the car.

Our genitals were magnets, drawn to each other despite any intervening forces.

But this breakup was different: She had dumped me.

I was always the one who decided that it was time to call it off, that our arguments were getting too pitched. The deal might have been engraved on stone tablets in Moses' handwriting: I, Ferrett, will dump thee and thou shalt lament my loss and crieth how thou needest me....

Nope. She just said, "This is bullshit," and left. And I was absolutely devastated.

I staggered into my friends' apartment, my cheeks stained a blotchy red from dried tears. They didn't even look up from their "Simpsons" reruns, completely used to my bimonthly Bari hystrionics... But their eyebrows raised when I upended an entire bottle of Scotch, dumping an entire pint of alcohol into my stomach, then shouted, "All right - where's more?"

They realized that triage was needed.

Wisely, my friends told me that more alcohol was nowhere to be found, but informed me that they did have some pot. Fine by me; I was so pissed-off and hurt that the only way I could work through it was to just obliterate my mind. I took at least eight deep hits, and held them until the room spun. And then it was time to go out.

I had emceed the Rocky Horror Picture Show for four years and had met a great deal of friends throught it... But over time, we'd grown bored with the RHPS itself and had just taken to showing up Fridays and Saturdays with a lot of booze. Sometimes we'd stay in the parking lot, sometimes we'd wander through the lobby, and occasionally we'd go in and work the show if we were in the mood, but the theater was unmistakably The Place To Be on Fridays and Saturdays. It was like a private club where the owner was too afraid to tell us to leave.

By the time I got to the theater, the world had narrowed to a crawl. The alcohol had threaded through my veins, lacing with the pot to present a surreal experience. Sections of my brain were shutting down like the Northeast Power Outage. Time stuttered and slowed, and all I remember is a series of snapshots....

  • Me, stumbling out of the van and saying hello to some people.
  • Me and my friends, meeting up with a new group of Rocky Horror fans, chatting animatedly.
  • Me, talking with this girl from the new group, her leaning against a railing as I told her slurred jokes...
  • ...Me and the same girl - although much farther out in the parking lot this time, our friends a distant speck....

I woke up in the theater during the Time Warp. Everyone was at the front of the theater, dancing and jumping, but for some reason my pants were down around my ankles.

And there was a head in my lap.

It took me a moment to realize that there was not only a head in my lap, but it was bobbing up and down and sucking my penis.

I checked in with my penis, asking, "Hey, can you give me status here?" It informed me cheerfully that this was go-around #2. It thought. Could be #3, but the drink made it kind of hard to tell.

Then, still a little slow on the uptake, I realized that I was getting blown in the middle row of a theater by a total stranger during the Time Warp. And I had evidently bonded with this woman; there was no shame in her enthusiastic choad-chowing. She was going at it with a fearful lack of restraint, and I had a sinking feeling that I was the one who had encouraged her to do this.

Apparently, I had discovered an alternative to Bari.

Damn you, alcoholic blackouts!

In any case, I was stumped. I had no idea who this mystery cocksucker was... But it seemed unseemly to just grab her by the hair, lift her up, and say, "Say... Who are you?" I sorted through my memories, trying to recall if I had gotten her name, but I didn't even remember meeting her. As of this moment in time, all I knew about this woman was what the back of her head looked like.

Was there some sort of Miss Manners etiquette to asking the name of an anonymous fellatist? I couldn't think of any. And time was creeping up on me; in a few scant moments the Time Warp would be over, and I sort of got the feeling that she really liked the idea of getting caught by a crowd of fifty people.

I froze, trying to act like I was into it, bucking my hips - which would buy me time. I knew what I would do - I'd try to ease her off the tip of Little Elvis by claiming that I wanted to take her in back, and then I'd hope we'd run into someone along the way who might explain what happened.

I tapped her on her neck. "Um... Excuse me..."

That's when I felt a pair of rapturously-familiar arms wrap themselves around my neck in a tight, joyous hug. "Oh, Ferrett!" Bari said. "I'm sorry for what I said. I - "

She looked down. The mystery woman looked up.

There was an awkward silence, made even more awkward when I realized they were expecting an introduction.

(Later on, I asked around and it turned out that during my blackout, I had grabbed this woman by the hand, swept my way into the women's bathroom, and proceeded to fuck her so thoroughly that everyone who entered the theater that day heard her shrieking out my name at the top of her lungs. She was, apparently, quite well-known for her willingness to go off with strange men, and I had to get myself tested for VD afterwards. I gave her a fake phone number and promised to call; I never did get her name.)

So. I've shared.

What's your most embarassing sex story?

Current Mood: frustratedfrustrated

(188 shouts of denial | Tell me I'm full of it)

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From:genericrick
Date:August 24th, 2003 11:12 am (UTC)
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She looked down. The mystery woman looked up.

After reading the preceeding line, I was so enthralled by the story I said "You have got to be kidding me." aloud; Almost as though I had been watching a movie. o_O;

Unfortunately, being only 18, I haven't had enough sex to pick-and-choose that which could be considered an "embarassing sex story." Reading some of your entries, I feel like such a lightweight. :P
From:(Anonymous)
Date:August 24th, 2003 09:32 pm (UTC)
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Compared to Ferrett's sexcapades, 99% of us are amateurs!! :)
From:(Anonymous)
Date:August 24th, 2003 11:18 am (UTC)
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I had just started dating this guy. We were at his place one night, waiting for some other friends to show up so we could have dinner. We had about an hour, and since we were in that new-relationship-perpetually-horny stage, he asked if I'd give him a blowjob while we waited.

Now. This guy was not a blowjob guy. During one of his very first blowjobs, the girl had bitten him, and there had been blood. It took years before the mention of 'blowjob' wouldn't make him entirely limp. It was even more before he could come from a blowjob, so I was figuring I'd go down on him for a while and then we'd fuck. So I start sucking.

He and I were into a bit of rough trade. Maybe that did it. He reached down at one point and clamped his hand around my neck. I got a little dizzy, but soldiered on. He moved his hands to my hair, and was setting the rhythm.

And then I tasted blood. I panicked, and had this series of thoughts:

"Oh, shit, I've ruined blowjobs for him for another ten years!!"

"Wait. He's still fucking my mouth. What does that mean?"

"Oh. It's not his blood."

I opened my eyes, and there was blood ALL OVER his dick, and his legs, and the bottom of his shirt. Presumably it was all over my face. I stiffened, and sat up. He made a little disappointed noise and then opened his eyes. It was all downhill from there.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:August 24th, 2003 11:21 am (UTC)
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Man, I ruined it. I forgot to say what happened! Something had apparently ruptured in my nose, and it had spontaneously started gushing blood.
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From:myshanter
Date:August 24th, 2003 11:21 am (UTC)

Not as good as yours

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But the other night, I came home from work around three a.m. Undressed, crawled into bed, drifted off. About half an hour later, I awoke to the now familiar poking of Jose into my thigh. I turned over, looked in his eyes, and he said, "Mary (which IS my name), I love you. I want you." Then he rolled on his back. I decided I would oblige, so I climbed on and began to ride. Then, just when I was beginning to get somewhere with it, he began to snore...with his eyes still open. He was asleep the whole time.
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From:theferrett
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:14 am (UTC)

Re: Not as good as yours

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I have passed out during a roadside blowjob that I asked for.

She didn't speak to me again for days.
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From:das_hydra
Date:August 24th, 2003 11:37 am (UTC)
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Sorry I don't have one. But you've given me oppertunity to read and something to fear look forward to.
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From:theferrett
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:15 am (UTC)
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You need more sex, babe. Start petitioning your pirate crew! *g*
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From:gothiksukkubus
Date:August 24th, 2003 01:13 pm (UTC)

A two parter..

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Here goes, Ferrett...

I went out with this guy, Gabriel, a few years ago. He was gorgeous, successful, intelligent and built like a god. Needless to say, I was shocked he even asked me out, but ask me out he did.
He picked me up in his black BMW on a Saturday and off we went.
He took me to the museum and a classical concert. Afterwards, Gabriel bought me this gorgeous candle in a crystal bowl with faceted pieces of crystal on the inside. It cost $75 dollars and he didn't even blink at the price. He even bought me a few other goodies, insisting that I "needed" them.

I kept thinking, "Oh my god. This guy is treating me like a princess...I must be dreaming this. It's too good to be true!"
Turned out it was actually too good to last.

He ended up taking me out for a wonderful late dinner at A Different Pointe Of View which is a very fancy restaurant on top of a mountain in Phoenix. Just for the record, if you ever go there, the view is amazing at night.
The menu was dazzling. I remember eating foie gras for the first time. I can't remember the exact meal I got, but it had blue crab in it. I will never forget THAT little detail.

Now, I'm allergic to lobster. Every time I've had lobster, I've gotten terribly ill, often spending an entire evening regurgitating my mistake in whichever restaurant bathroom I happened to be in at the time. It took me doing this three times to figure out it was actually the lobster that was doing this to me and nothing else.
But hey, this is crab, right?
Crab isn't lobster. It's a different crustacean. It doesn't even look like a lobster with the exception of the claws, so hell, I'll be alright if I eat just a teeny bit.
Right?

Wrong.

After this amazing meal of fine wine, foie gras and an entree with just that teeny bit of blue crab stuffing, we set off for a bit of dancing at a local hotspot. I felt completely fine. Hell, I felt better than fine.

I was having the time of my life being completely pampered and spoiled for the first time ever. I had a man who was attentive, handsome, smart and he was obviously turned on by my well rounded figure. I had ALL intentions of being horizontal by the end of the night. Turns out I did end up horizontal, but not in the way I had planned.

This was too long to post at one time so the other half is next...

[User Picture]
From:gothiksukkubus
Date:August 24th, 2003 01:14 pm (UTC)

Re: A two parter..

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Part 2

After sucking tongues on the dance floor for half an hour, we decided we needed to get back to his place NOW. We weren't that far away so we hopped into the BMW after making out for a few minutes outside of it...then inside of it...then pulling off to the side of the road to make out again. I was half undressed by the time we got to his apartment and I lost my panties somewhere in the BMW.

We got to the front door, still attached at the lips, hands groping everywhere and I felt my tummy give a gurgle.
I ignored it.
Hell, it's just a little tummy gurgle, right?

We pratically fell thru the door and Gabriel proceeded to tumble me onto the couch, threw my skirt over my thighs and proceeded to go down on me with a gusto I had never experienced before.
My god, I was in heaven splayed out over that couch with the legs draped over his shoulders.
And my tummy gurgled again.

I ignored it because, hey, I'm coming like a rocket by this time and my stomach rumblings were WAY at the bottom of my list of priorities.
He finally came up for air and I turned the tables on him and started blowing Gabriel's horn with as much enthusiasm as he had shown to me.
By the sounds of the groans, I'd say he was as appreciative, too.
Then my belly is started to not only gurgle but churn a little.

I chucked it up to nervousness and kept doing what I was doing, because hey, I've got a hot guy here with his fat schlong in my mouth, who's about to come any moment.
I take that shit very seriously.
I never leave a "job" half done.

Gabriel's moaning harder, his hands are fisted in my hair and he's alternately calling out both mine and God's name loudly.
Then the nausea hit me like an out of control train.
My stomach gurgled, twisted and lurched and I felt this immense pressure as the contents of my stomach erupted just as Gabriel did.
He just sat there stunned, covered in vomit and come.

I ran to the bathroom, bawling and still vomiting. I was laying on the floor of the bathroom and in between the heaving and the blubbering, I kept trying to apologize to Gabriel thru the door. He was strangely calm throughout the entire debacle. I just wanted to die.

To make an incredibly long and painful story short, I finally came out, cleaned up the mess while he was in the shower and snuck out.
I was so completely mortified and devastated. I called a friend to get me and hid out inside of a convenience store for nearly an hour until she showed up. I saw Gabriel pass by looking for me, but I just couldn't face him after hurling a $200 dollar dinner in his crotch.
My friend picked me up and drove me back to my place and I never saw Gabriel again.
He did call and leave me messages about 5 times begging me to see him, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to him. Now I realize how stupid I was being.

So there you go, Ferrett.
I ended up losing my panties, my pretty crystal bowl, the jewelry, CD's and books he bought me and even worse, missing out on a chance with the greatest guy I've ever met.

Dinner at A Different Pointe in Time: $200 +
Cover charge at nightclub: $20
Gifts: $150 +
Panties: $5
Finding a guy who'll still call to ask you out after you barfed all over his cock? Priceless.
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Re: A two parter.. - (Anonymous) - Expand
Re: A two parter.. - (Anonymous) - Expand
Re: A two parter.. - (Anonymous) - Expand
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From:gothiksukkubus
Date:August 24th, 2003 07:15 pm (UTC)

Re: not so much embarrassing as terrifying

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Ye gods! I'm glad you quit before you came and got her help!

L
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From:frawg_angel
Date:August 24th, 2003 05:21 pm (UTC)

Alright, why not...

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After a few tries at various colleges, I ended up going to a small residential vocational college on the other end of the state. I met my ex there, and during one of our better moments, we were in my room playing Magic. Somehow, it turned into "Strip Magic," of which the rules are incredibly confusing but less important than getting the other person naked but not TRYING to be obvious and strip them down. I was better than him at Magic, not just in the quality of cards, but I just was better at gameplay. I had taught him afterall. Usually, for the sake of his pride (and so he wouldn't throw a fit when I won too often and stomp off, as he did a lot) I would let him win. Not this time.

So there I am, missing a few items of clothing, and him... butt naked except for his hand of cards. He's aroused, but his overactive need to beat me has made him incredibly serious about the game. It was a hilarious sight, but you can't laugh... how can you explain "Honey, I find you sexy, but you look like an idiot!"

I did finally win the game, and we began to mess around, with a nice blow job to start it off. From there we progress to the sex, and the night ends with him going back to his room and everything was fine.

Until the next day, when he wakes up and tells EVERYONE about the new development this morning on his penis. Apparently, I had been so enthusiastic and he so into it, that he had a hickey. Let's call it "ring around the collar." It wasn't the entire appendage, but literally "ring around the collar."

I think it was my roommate and her boyfriend (now husband) who named me "Hoover." And everyone else followed suit.

Hell if I know how I did it, and it's not something you can replicate... but it's something they STILL like to bring up to embarrass me at the DAMNEDEST times!
[User Picture]
From:theferrett
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:20 am (UTC)

Re: Alright, why not...

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I am more impressed by the fact that you've played strip Magic than by your Hoovering activities, impressive though they are. I mean... Strip Magic! Wow!

I've never done THAT. *g*

Blasphemy! - (Anonymous) - Expand
[User Picture]
From:correspondguy
Date:August 24th, 2003 10:39 pm (UTC)

I have two, and they're both amateurish, but I like 'em

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So, one day back in 1992, I'm visiting my girlfriend at college (I graduated in 1991, and she was still there). She's got this itty-bitty single up at the top of the dorm - a room so small that the college, money-grubbers that they are, have realized that there's no way two people could ever live in this room and they don't charge the price of a single room for it.

That's beside the point, but I wanted to set the scene.

Of more importance is the fact that this is an all-female dorm. There is one, and only one, men's bathroom, and that's in the basement. Michelle's room is perched on the top of the building.

After wine, sex, and more wine, I'm a little tipsy and really have to pee. I get out of the warm bed and tiptoe down four flights of stairs.

The door's hard to open, and when I do open it, I see the most ridiculous sex I've ever seen.

A guy was ass-nekkid, wearing a cowbow hat and boots, superimposed on his also nekkid girlfriend, going at it on the tile floor.

What do you say to that? I mumbled "Excuse me" and backed out, hiked up the stairs, and got Michelle to stand guard while I used the bathroom on her floor.

Second story:

My Freshman year girlfriend was the first sex-with-regularity relationship I had, so I forgot about roommate issues.

One day, we THOUGHT we'd locked the door. We were in coitus medius when we hear:

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<rattle,>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

So, one day back in 1992, I'm visiting my girlfriend at college (I graduated in 1991, and she was still there). She's got this itty-bitty single up at the top of the dorm - a room so small that the college, money-grubbers that they are, have realized that there's no way two people could ever live in this room and they don't charge the price of a single room for it.

That's beside the point, but I wanted to set the scene.

Of more importance is the fact that this is an all-female dorm. There is one, and only one, men's bathroom, and that's in the basement. Michelle's room is perched on the top of the building.

After wine, sex, and more wine, I'm a little tipsy and really have to pee. I get out of the warm bed and tiptoe down four flights of stairs.

The door's hard to open, and when I do open it, I see the most ridiculous sex I've ever seen.

A guy was ass-nekkid, wearing a cowbow hat and boots, superimposed on his also nekkid girlfriend, going at it on the tile floor.

What do you say to that? I mumbled "Excuse me" and backed out, hiked up the stairs, and got Michelle to stand guard while I used the bathroom on her floor.

Second story:

My Freshman year girlfriend was the first sex-with-regularity relationship I had, so I forgot about roommate issues.

One day, we THOUGHT we'd locked the door. We were in coitus medius when we hear:

<rattle, rattle, click> "OH, SHIT!" <Slam>

Me: "Who was that?"
June: "Um...my eyes were closed."
"Well, my back was to the door."
"Who the hell was it, then?"
"We can only hope it was my roommate."

TWO WEEKS go by before John and I say anything - I don't want to say anything in case it wasn't him, and he doesn't want to say anything in case I had suddenly been struck deaf and didn't know it was him.

Finally, I say "Dude? Was that you two weeks ago?"
"Yeah."
"We need a signal."
"Oh, hell, yeah."
[User Picture]
From:daghain
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:10 am (UTC)
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Speaking of signals, freshman year our signal was a Taste of Paradise behind the doorknob. My roommate didn't play Magic, but he thought it was just as funny as I did.
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From:indecencia
Date:November 16th, 2004 03:22 pm (UTC)

Re: I can't compete, but...

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I laughed my ass off at this one! ROFL!
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From:partywhipple
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:15 am (UTC)
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I am almost speechless. This story is awesome. It's like something that would happen to Jack in a porno episode of Three's Company.
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From:shadesong
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:32 am (UTC)
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Wow. I got nothin', man. Well, once when otherAdam and I were fucking standing up, his hands slipped and my tailbone was hardshly introduced to the doorknob. But.... I got nothin' like this.

Which is probably a good thing.

From:(Anonymous)
Date:August 25th, 2003 05:56 am (UTC)
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I come by way of shadesong's journal.

The most embarrassing thing I had happened a little over a year ago. I was sleeping with a friend of mine - we had a certain arrangement. I knew the guy, but well enough for the wacky antics that ensued.

Boy C and I are having sex, with a condom, as responsible adults should do, and about half way through the first time [for that night] that we were having sex, I feel this slightly irritating sensation. I just kind of ignore it because sometimes the condoms sting a bit. So, we finish up, or I got way to aggravated by the sensation and called it quits. He pulls out and just freezes. I don't know what's going on, so I give him a weird look. The next words out of his mouth were "I've lost the condom." Me - "What? What do you mean you lost the condom?" Him - "I can't find it. I don't see it."

This is all preceded by a mad tearing apart of the bed in search of the elusive condom. It's no where to be found. As the bed is being further demolished, I get this sinking suspicion I have an idea where the condom is - in me. I get up, excuse myself to the restroom and decide to see if I can find it. No such luck. I return to the scene of the crime, and he's somewhat put the bed back together. By this time, he's come to same realization I have and comments on it. I'm starting to get a bit panicky. I know if I can't get it out or if it doesn't work itself out, in the morning I will have to have a talk with my mother - she's a nurse. I know that I will have to explain the situation, and explain that the even though I don't have a boyfriend I was out fucking the night before. I don't like that scenario one bit. Things progressed to the point where he offered to help me find it. He didn't like seeing me be embarrassed. It was a bonding experience to have someone I knew, but didn't know well enough, fishing around in me looking for an errant condom. He did retrieve the condom.

Needless to say, the night was pretty much ruined. We had sex again that night, but I wasn't really into it because of the early shenanigans.
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From:theferrett
Date:August 25th, 2003 01:32 pm (UTC)
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It can get worse.

I had a friend whose most embarassing story was going down on his girlfriend and finding a condom. From someone else, who she had forgotten about earlier that night.

This wasn't a polyamorous relationship.
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Expand
the same situation - (Anonymous) - Expand
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From:felisdemens
Date:August 25th, 2003 06:40 am (UTC)
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I am also here via shadesong.

Many years ago, my boyfriend at the time and I were hanging out at a friend's house. We started to leave around 3am, but as the door shut behind us, he seized me and we began making out. Things progressed, until eventually we were fucking enthusiastically in the doorway. Suddenly, the door began to open. Horrified, he threw his weight against it as I scrambled to put my clothes in order. The door opened just a crack, and a sepulchral voice issued forth: "STOP LEANING ON THE DOORBELL!"
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From:theferrett
Date:August 25th, 2003 01:36 pm (UTC)
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Heh. Actually, that's a Foxtrot cartoon....
From:ladytabitha
Date:August 25th, 2003 07:00 am (UTC)
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Odd that my first comment to your journal will be an embarrassing sex story.  And not even embarrassing so much as amusing.

I was going down on my boyfriend (this was 7 years ago or so), and he decided to put his hands in my hair.  Which would've been fine, except apparently his spatial relations skill was hampered.  He ended up thumbing me in the eye, which caused me to bite down (just a little).

That killed sex for that night, lemme tell ya.  "Ow!  You okay?"  "Yeah - ow! - not too bad, I'm sorry, how're you?"
[User Picture]
From:zigurat
Date:August 25th, 2003 09:05 am (UTC)
(Link)
Mine pretty much center around trying to get my wife pregnant.

Once we HAD to get it done, and so we put in a video and locked our bedroom door. Of course, the kids come upstairs, knocking on the door, and asking why we get to jump on the bed. It was fairly difficult to finish.

Kind of like trying to get it into that little container when it's due at the doctor in an hour, so the doctor can get your wife pregnant.
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