As promised, here is a guest post from our fine friends over at Adam & Eve.com:
The summer of 2010 was by and far my sluttiest summer yet. It began the way all slutfests begin:at the conclusion of a dead relationship. That summer, I made out with a randy guy on the back of a bar patio, I got handsy with an old fling on the front steps of a brewery. I drank my way into my manager's pants. I spent a few evenings in the bed of a summer fling who lived at the beach (the best kind of fling). I hooked up with someone on top of a dog crate outside of a house party and I sent a lot of late night sexts to an old friends-with-benefits. Truthfully, it was the greatest summer yet. I was 23, bartending for a living and had nothing to lose. My days ended at 7am and started at 2pm on a float in a pool. I had my whole life ahead of me, so I spent my summer running around, presenting my vajayjay on a golden platter.
But that summer, I also had something happen to me, something that had never happened to me before...
It was days before 4th of July. I was standing in the liquor cage at work when a bearded coworker of mine walked in and told me he and his girlfriend had broken up. I was still revelling in my break up bliss, so I told him I was sorry to hear that, but that he'd be enjoying himself again soon. Clearly, I'm a good friend with great advice.
The next night, I found myself out with the beard and other friends. We were drinking, dancing and having a great time. Beard invited all of us back to his house for the post party. I went gladly and with each tequila shot I downed he started to look more and more attractive. Finally as it neared 5, I declared that I would not be driving home as I was too drunk to drive. The beard offered me a portion of his bed and I took him up on his offer--smiling, knowing that my tequila-fused decision was a good one.
He attacked me with a decent amount of force once we stepped inside his room, but my tequila over-rode it and took charge. I felt like dominating that night. I threw him up against the wall and showed him what a slutty summer could teach you. We made out in the messy way you do when you're too drunk to focus and hastily groped each other like high school virgins.
We fooled around for a bit, but I was growing restless. I'm all game for a full course meal, but I like to get my appetizer on first, so I pushed him on his back and slithered between his knees. Now I take pride in my beej skills. They've been honed, perfected and praised. It is an art that I have a black belt in, but on this night, I was proven wrong.
I gave it my all, incorporated as much tongue, hand, suction and balls as I possibly could, but he just wasn't staying hard--not a sight I like to see, so I tried harder and harder still. As I found myself deep throating this bearded man, a startling sound passed my ears. A slow, bass driven rumble. I paused...what is that? I looked up between his still knees and saw something I've never seen. There he was, beard and all, open mouthed, fast asleep and snoring.
Excuse me? I don't think so. I rummaged through his bed to find my missing clothes, dressed quickly and grabbed my bag. I looked at him and noticed how he was a little overweight and sleeping on a mattress on the ground. The clock read 7am. I left wondering what I was doing with my life. I headed home and went straight to my sex drawer. He couldn't finish the job, so I had to. I fell asleep a little before eight, happily alone.
If you've had a recent experience and need a little something to take care of somebody's ineptitude, head over to Adam & Eve, where their toys will never fall asleep!
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