babysitting

     I met Robby out one night in college and thought I'd won the lottery;  he was a 6'4, ripped, gorgeous swimmer with blue eyes, a 4.0 GPA, and a BRITISH ACCENT.  We had a month-or-so long fling that started out as passionate sex, cuddling all night, and going to breakfast.  He was older and graduating in a few months, so it was clear that the relationship was going nowhere.  But he was wonderful company.  For awhile.  Until our sex-sessions turned into babysitting jobs...
      I would meet up with him downtown, or he would call me after going out with his friends, and we would go home together.  He would stumble all over the place, blabber about how much he loves hotdogs, how much he hates slices of cheese (??), about how great his ex-girlfriend in London is, and then proceed to tell me how great and tall our kids would be... Then he would sprawl his gigantic body out on my bed, snore so loudly that my roommates couldn't sleep, and wake up in the morning not remembering a damn thing.  The mornings were always great, so I let it go on for awhile.  He would be charismatic, we would laugh about the shit he'd said the night before, and have good morning sex.  But this was clearly heading in a sloppy direction.
     Normally we would skip sex at night because he was too drunk, but every once in a while he would manage to get his shit-together and put on a less-than-impressive performance.  Until one of our last nights together.  He was unattractively drunk; I literally had to wipe his nose for him and tell him he had food in his teeth.  He begged like a little boy to have sex.  You try denying a guy lying naked in your bed with a British accent saying, "Can we please have sex?"  I stupidly gave in and ended up REALLY regretting it.  About 10 thrusts in, Robby stopped, laying down on my chest.  I thought he was just taking a break until an ear-shattering snore filled the room.  I tried everything to wake him up; I yelled at him, pinched him, and tried as hard as physically possible to move him with absolutely no luck.
      So that is how I spent the most sleepless night of my life; with a gorgeous man not only passed out on top of me, but passed out INSIDE OF ME. Robby is 210lbs of lanky muscle.  I spent 4 hours partly suffocated with him drooling on my chest, snoring in my ear, and his penis shriveled up inside of me.  Finally, he drunkenly responded to my shoves and rolled off of me.  I had imprints in my skin from his hip bones and a nice pool of drool in the indent of my clavicle.
     Naturally, he remembered nothing the next morning and was pretty embarrassed when I told him what happened.  With graduation only a few weeks away, we slowly stopped calling each other and ended things pretty effortlessly.  Yes, I will miss waking up to his gorgeous face and sexy accent, but I would choose sleeping alone over sleeping with a drunk, sloppy baby any day.
     Let us all say a little prayer for Robby: that he may one day learn to handle his liquor.

just some casual suffocation

        The other night I hung out with Hank (see "Tinder" post).  You're probably thinking, "Uh, WHY?!" but he has kept in touch with me for a few months and seemed like a pretty good guy. And I'm literally always horny. Plus I told him that the horse-mask thing was an absolute-fucking-no.  

        So I went over to his place and we ended up having a really good time just watching the Miami Heat game and drinking beers.  He even maintained total normalcy for the first half of sex; he definitely knew what he was doing.  And he's one of those guys who are so big that they can just throw you around the bed, making you feel like a 110lb Barbie.  

        But of course, it would be too good to be true for me to have normal sex, so I wasn't the least bit surprised when his hands started creeping up to my neck.  And before I knew what was happening, this mother fucker was literally choking me saying, "You don't cum until I tell you to cum.  You hear me?"  Like lets not get ahead of ourselves, pal.  We should probably focus on breathing before we even think about orgasming...

     Now I am a big fan of being dominated in bed.  I am intimidating and bossy and demanding in all other aspects of my life, so it is nice to be thrown around a bit in the bedroom.  But I don't think its too much for me to ask to just be able to maintain proper respiration.  I eventually wriggled out of the chokehold and managed to change positions ("I'll flip you over when I want to flip you over.  You hear me?").  After a few more minutes and a couple more over-the-top dominating comments, Hank finished and I politely walked him to the door.  I'm not sure if I ever see him again, but I think he's the kind of hook-up where I should probably have my phone within reaching distance.  And 911 on speed dial.

i like feet

I have been wanting to write this post for ages, but there is just no way to do it justice via writing. Regardless, its a good story to tell. And I promise, I didn't make this up; my sex life is just this fucked up.

I met Andrew while visiting my friend, Annie, at her college campus.  Tall, dark, and handsome with a huge nose that I, unfortunately, chose to overlook.  He seemed perfectly normal.   Annie had paired off with his friend, and it became inevitable that him and I were going to hook up.  We all went back to his place where I immediately headed straight for his bedroom, pretending to charge my phone.  Drunk me is pretty much a horny (not even remotely sneaky) teenager.  Andrew picked up on my oh-so-subtle hint and followed me into the bedroom.

Aside from the fact that he had a painfully monstrous penis, everything was fairly normal.  Although side-note; unless I haven't eaten in like 5 days and magically have washboard abs, please don't put my damn legs above your shoulders and proceed to LOOK at my rolls.  Like I don't know who the fuck looks good in that position but it's not me.

Anyway, he was a nice enough guy and knew what he was doing.  So the next weekend when I came up to visit Annie, I contacted him, assuming it would be the same.  Well, a few minutes in, Andrew asks me, "So, what are you into?"  Uhm, guys? Shopping?  Maybe some intramural soccer on the weekends? What the fuck?
I replied with, "Uhm, this is fine..."
After which he follows up with, I kid you not, "Well, I like feet."  Unfortunately, I am really good at covering up laughter with coughing or this story could have (and should have) ended right there.  Instead, I told him I was up for whatever.  Which is a lie.  STUPID DRUNK KATIE.  It all went downhill from there.

Andrew started by sucking on my toes and moaning.  I will pause here to tell you that my feet are not cute.  At all.  As a kid, my sister called my toes "sausage toes."  I hadn't had a pedicure in over a month and I had all kinds of rough calluses from sports.  But APPARENTLY this was not an issue for Andrew who at this point was caressing his face with them.  And then (ready for this?) he put my feet together and proceeded to fuck the arches of my feet.  So here I am, laying on my back just chilling in this stranger's bed getting my FEET FUCKED.  I had had enough.  So instead of slowing transitioning out of the arch-fuck position, I just blurted out, "I'm uncomfortable," grabbed my clothes, pulled Annie off some random guy on the couch, and got the fuck out of there.

Good riddance Andrew.  And God help all the future girls he brings home from the bars.

if only i chose not be be anonymous

       So I recently had sex with the biggest name in college football. This is the one time I really wish I hadn't chosen to keep this anonymous due to the simple fact that I deserve a fucking trophy for sleeping with this kid. And by kid, I do mean that he's a year younger than me. Which I have never done before, but he was SO worth it.

     Like if you google his name, you can watch countless videos of him beating the shit out of D1 football players.  I fucked someone on the COVER OF SPORTS ILLUSTRATED :) 

     Unfortunately, there is really nothing special to say about our sex except that it happened. Before this, I had never slept with a black guy. So go big or go home, right? And I mean BIG. The kid himself is over 6'5 and 260+lbs. His body literally looks as though God himself hand-sculpted it. And his penis is exactly how you would expect a gigantic D1 black football player's penis to be; overwhelming. 

     I won't go into details, but I certainly started my summer off with a bang. And I cannot wait to see his ass drafted to the NfL next year knowing that I had him in my bed :)

    

whoops

I act like a toddler when I drink tequila.

bedside manners

         I recently slept with this guy, Thomas, who was visiting old friends on my college campus for the weekend.  He didn't leave me with any super outrageous stories, but his bedside manners deserve to be noted:

1. I will give him credit; he definitely knew what he was doing.  When I told him that, he proceeded to say, "I mean yeah; I've slept with over 30 women."
2. He had no problem farting...in my bed.  Like Thomas, you are not my boyfriend and you kind of look like a dinosaur.  What the FUCK makes you think you can fart in my bed.
3. We had to kill time the next morning while waiting for a friend to pick him up and got on the topic of Spring Break.  I showed him a few pictures off my phone of NYC on St. Patrick's Day; he showed me the lovely picture below of himself and "some random," below from Panama City...
4. And finally, as he was getting dressed the next morning, he turned to me and says, "Just so you know, I already have plans to sleep with this girl, Tess, for the rest of the weekend.  I just didn't want you expecting anything."

And who says chivalry is dead!