I'd rather be cockblocked by my friends
I hadn't been laid in two months.
By the time we arrived at the bars, my friends and I were already rowdy and stumbling over each other. Once we were inside there were various other pleasantries, but nothing worth mentioning happened until I was at the point where I was sweating beads of vodka and breathing hard for no apparent reason other than to look really flustered and creepily horny.
The night was steadily moving along. I had almost gotten into a fight with some bitch who made some bogus ass claim "that she owns the bar and can kick me out." Turned out she really was the club manager . Afterwards, I got the shit slapped out of me by another chick, although I couldn't recall what I exactly said to her. My mind was racing and everything tasted like rubbing alcohol and the ugliest of uglies were starting to look hot enough to be out of my league.
I lurched forward over the bar attempting to flag down the bartender for another drink. At that moment I made eye contact with a plump, familiar face at the other end of the bar. She stared back at me with a rather confused look as if she was thinking hard. My mind clumsily catalogued through a hazy list of drunken nights and fat chick hook ups. I made a vague, unlikely match. I was extremely incredulous because this hook up happened in a completely different part of the country. I couldn't really make sense of it, but I figured there was only one logical way to confirm whether it was her or not.
I yelled over the noise, "I KNOW YOU! YOU GAVE ME A BLOWJOB IN MY FRIEND'S BACKYARD!"
I saw a similar realization in her rounded face; first doubtful, then a spark that resulted in a very surprised look. I thought, holy shit it IS her. I wondered if at that time she had catalogued through her list of blowjobs. She smiled and waved and yelled something that got lost in the noise of the crowd. I assumed she didn't hear my pick up line because she started walking towards me with a smile that filled her face. She glacially split the crowd and lumbered towards me, step by step, and loomed closer...
...and that was the last thing I remembered. It was like a speeding truck had knocked me the fuck out onto my ass.
When I woke up, I was on a couch in the bar. The entire place was fucking spinning as my head retardedly lolled left and right, only to see that most of the bar crowd was leaving and that my friends were nowhere to be seen. I clumsily got my phone out of my pocket trying to make sense of what happened. I saw it was around 2:00 AM. There were several missed calls, including two from the speeding truck chick.
I assessed the situation, and out of all the issues at hand, the most pressing was this: Now...how the fuck am I going to get laid?
As much as I would like to have called my friends to relieve them of the guilt and worry I'm sure those jackasses were experiencing after having left me passed out on a couch, I figured oh what the fuck and gave her a call first.
"Hey it's me. What happened? Where'd you go?"
"You passed out on me."
"What?"
"We were on the couch making out and you passed out on me, like, in the middle of it."
Apparently, I had been run over by the truck after all. However, I knew then that I could snag her again for sure. When I first met her some time ago, she blew me in a backyard behind a toolshed. Are you telling me that she wouldn't fuck me now because I passed out on her while making out?
"Oh...uh...haha...err sorry...hey uh nevermind that. So, me and my friends have got a party going on back at a hotel. You wanna come?"
"Sure."
$$$!
I stumbled outside, vaguely thinking that I should try to get a cab to find my way to my chubby little Juliet. Instead, I saw my friends gathered outside. I yelled in relief and ran towards them. We exchanged drunken howls, jabs and conversation and then jumped into a cab and headed towards the hotel where the party was. As we sped down the highway, I requested for a detour to pick up truck-chick to take back to the hotel with us. Luckily, she was close by to where the hotel was, so within minutes, we were all back at the hotel. The night was mine.
My friends scattered to several different rooms where they could party or pass out. I took her to an empty room and we immediately went at it. Excited, I was rough with her. I threw her to the bed while ripping clothes off. I felt like fucking Tarzan and I was ready to go caveman on this bitch.
I was all over her and was about to dock ship when she whispers, "No, wait..."
It sounded oddly seductive. I figured since she's Asian, she was trying to sound like those Asian bitches that act all innocent as if they don't want it. I've seen it plenty of times in those Japanese bondage pornos. Nice try, bitch. I pinned her arms down and moved in. I couldn't figure out why, but I was only half way in and couldn't go in further. In my drunken logic, I figured the only possible way to get in was to try again. Harder. I drew back and lunged forward. The same thing happened, only this time it felt like I had run boner first into a fucking wall.
"Ow! What the FUCK is that?"
"That's my tampon. I'm on my period."
I scrambled back and looked down and saw what looked to be rug burn on the tip of my penis. I had gotten cockblocked by a fucking tampon. I had no idea that a tampon was so fucking hard (can any ladies attest to this? it seriously felt like a damn piece of plastic). I wish I could tell you that I stopped for a second in disgust or shame or something normal. Instead, I drunkenly swayed back and forth in the awkward silence, extremely upset at the Japanese porno industry. There was no way I could let the night end like this, so I threw out the first thing that came to mind.
I timidly asked, "Blowjob?"
To my surprise she actually moved forward. A michievous smile crept over my face, and I decided to make the best of this disaster.
I yelled, "Wait!"
I ran over to the fridge, grabbed a beer and scrambled back to bed. I cracked the beer open, stretched out and crossed my feet. I folded my hands behind my head and let out a long, exhausted sigh as she went to work.
I made a mental note to thank the good lord.
Dear God,
Thank you for sluts. Even if they are chubsters.
Sincerely,
Chucky
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