haha this is a repost from 4 years ago that i somehow found. but i thought that everyone needed to read it because its friggin hilarious(in a dark twisted kind of way) so here it goes
I spent the summer between my 2nd and 3rd year of college suckling on the
parental teat in South Florida. It was the absolute prime of my “do
anything to get laid? phase. I was recently freed from a 4-year
long-distance relationship that began in high school and I wanted
nothing more than to have sex with as many girls as possible.
Most of the things I did that summer are not story-worthy; you can only
tell the same, “I got drunk on Dom and fucked this hottie? story so
many times before it gets annoying. That summer I experienced every
random sex situation that a 20 year old can imagine: fucking on the
beach, getting head from random girls in club bathrooms, sleeping with
3 different girls in a day, getting so drunk I passed out during sex,
getting arrested for receiving fellatio in the pool at the Delano,
blah, blah, blah…Jesus. What does it say about how fucked up my life is
that I don’t consider these stories to be extraordinary anymore?
Anyway, while most of my stories may not be extraordinary for me, there is one very notable exception…
I was seeing one girl, “Jaime,? about twice a week. She was a fresh
arrival to South Beach, having moved there 5 months ago from upstate
New York as a 19 year old with a modeling contract. We met through a
mutual friend who befriended her while they were shooting a TV
commercial. Five weeks and lots of sex later, she thought we were
dating. I knew better, but she was way too hot to bother correcting her
assumption.
The ex-girlfriend of 4-years I previously spoke about was very sexually
conservative. It was missionary in the dark and then straight to sleep,
with maybe a blowjob on the weekends if she’d had a few glasses of wine
with dinner (it was a high school relationship, I didn’t know any
better). After four years of this, I was ready to experience all the
things I’d missed out on (when I wasn’t cheating on her, of course).
Buttsex, known in the biz as “anal,? was one of these unknowns, and I
decided that I wanted to try it. Jaime was the perfect partner: very
hot and very sweet, and more importantly, very naïve and very open to
suggestion.
She was reluctant at first, not understanding why we just couldn’t keep
having normal sex, so I had to employ my persuasive powers:
Jaime “But…I’ve never done it.?
Tucker “I’ve never done it either; it can be our thing.?
Jaime “But…I don’t know if I’ll like it.?
Tucker “You won’t have to worry about getting pregnant.?
Jaime “But…I like normal sex.?
Tucker “Everyone’s doing anal. It’s the new black.?
Jaime “But…I don’t know…it seems weird.?
Tucker “It’s the preferred method in Europe. Especially with the runway models. Don’t you want to do runways in Europe?
After a few weeks of this, she finally consented. Though she agreed to
let me put my penis in her small hole, she extracted a promise in
return:
“OK, we can try anal sex, but I want it to be special and romantic. You
have to take me out to a nice place, like The Forge or Tantra, NOT one
of your parent’s restaurants, and it has to be a weekend night, NOT a
Monday. And you have to keep taking me out on weekends. I’m tired of
being your Monday night girl.
I made reservations for the next Friday at Tantra. Aside from being
insanely expensive, Tantra is famous for having grass floors. Really;
they put in new sod every week. They also advertise their food as
“aphrodisiac cuisine. Yes, at that point in my life, I thought these
things worked.
Thanks to my father’s connections, I got us a corner booth in the grass
room. She was quite impressed. I ordered like it was the Last Supper.
No expense was spared. Two $110 bottles of merlot, veal rack, stone
crabs, the Tantra Love platter--it was lavish and decadent. I was 21,
stupid, and wanted to fuck Jaime in the butt; I wasn’t about to let a
$400 tab get in my way.
By the time we left Tantra, this girl had doe eyes that made Bambi look
like a heroin-chic CK model. She could not have been more in love with
me. The entire drive back to my place she was rubbing my crotch,
telling me how badly she wanted to me to fuck her, how hot I made her,
etc, etc. We get back to my place and our clothes are off before we
even get in the door. We collapse on the bed and start fucking. Normal
vaginal sex at first, just like always.
Now, what she did not know, and what I have not told you yet, was that I had a surprise waiting for her.
[Aside: Before I tell you what the surprise was, let me make this
clear: As I stand right now, 27 as of this writing, I am a bad person.
At 21, I was possibly the worst person in existence. I had no regard
for the feelings of others, I was narcissistic and self-absorbed to the
point of psychotic delusion, and I saw other people only as a means to
my happiness and not as humans worthy of respect and consideration. I
have no excuse for what I did; it was wrong and I regret it. Even
though I normally revel in my outlandish behavior, sometimes even I
cross the line, and this is one of those situations….but of course, I’m
still going to write about it.]
This was going to be my first time foraging in the ass forest, and I
wanted to have a reminder of my trip, a memento I could carry with me
the rest of my life…so I decided to film us.
I planned this beforehand, but I was afraid she would decline, so
instead of being mature and discussing this with Jaime, I just made the
executive decision to get it on camera…without telling her.
That alone is pretty bad. But instead of just setting up a hidden camera…I got my friend to hide in my closet and film it.
No really--I know that I will burn in hell. At this point, I’m just hoping that my life can serve as a warning to others.
I left my door unlocked and we arranged it so that around midnight my
friend would go over to my place and wait until my car pulled in, and
then run into the closet and get the camera ready. The top half of the
closet door was a French shutter, so it was easy to move the slats and
give him a decent camera shot through the closed door.
By the time Jaime and I got to the bed, I was so drunk I had forgotten
that he was filming this, and of course she had no idea he was there.
After a few minutes of standard sex, she kinda stopped and said, all
serious and in her best seductive soap opera voice, “I’m ready.
I quickly flipped her over and grabbed the brand new bottle of AstroGlide I had on my bedside table.
A week prior, after Jaime consented to buttsex, I realized that I
didn’t have any idea how to do it. How exactly do you fuck a girl in
the ass? Luckily, I had the world’s best anal sex informational
resource at my disposal: The gay waiter. I consulted several gay
waiters who worked at one of my parents restaurants about the mechanics
of buttsex, and each one recommended AstroGlide as the lubricant of
choice. Much to my dismay, I learned that spitting on your dick is not
enough lube for buttsex. Stupid, lying porn movies.
The other important piece of advice I remembered was from Calvin, “Make
sure you use enough, because if this is her first time, she’ll be
especially tight, and it might hurt her. Use enough to really loosen
her up and go slow until she gets used to it. Then it’s smooth sailing
from there.
Well, since some is good, more is better, right? At 21, this seemed logical.
I opened the cap, crammed the bottle top into her asshole, and
squeezed. I probably emptied half of the 4-ounces of AstroGlide into
her. I have since learned from homosexuals that a 4-ounce bottle
usually lasts them about 6 months. So yeah--I overdid it.
But Tucker Max wasn’t done. Oh no, after depositing enough grease in
her to run a Formula One racecar, I dumped half of what remained onto
my cock and balls, really wanting to lube up because I didn’t want her
to be uncomfortable.
Really--consider my thought process: I was going to fuck her in the
butt and film it without her consent, yet I was truly concerned about
her personal comfort. Sometimes the contradictions in my personality
even amuse me.
Predictably, I slid in with ease. She was a little tense at first, but
with an Exxon Valdez size load spilled into her poop chute, she quickly
loosened up and got into it. I liked it also; it had a different feel
to it. Not as good as vaginal sex, a little grainy, kinda tight, but
still very nice.
Before I knew it I was fucking her like the apocalypse was imminent,
burying it to the hilt with impunity. After a few minutes I was ready
to come. My urgency was expressed in my tempo, and I began really
jackhammering her. As the excitement got the best of me, I pulled out
too far and my dick came out of her ass. I kinda scrambled to grab my
dick and put it back in so I could finish off inside of her, but before
I could even get a hold of it and put it back in her ass, I heard a
faint “psssst sound and felt something wet and warm hit my crotch.
It was dark in the room (I was not smart or sober enough to leave the
lights on for the camera), so after I looked down it took me a few
seconds to realize that my dick, balls and groin area were covered in a
viscous black liquid. I stopped moving and stared at my strangely
colored crotch for a good 5 seconds, completely confused, until I
realized what happened:
“Did you…did you just…shit on my dick?
I reached down to touch the liquid feces, still in complete and utter
disbelief that this girl shot explosive diarrhea on my penis, when,
without warning, the smell hit me.
I have a very sensitive nose, and I have never been more repulsed by a
smell in my life. The combination of synthetic AstroGlide and rancid
stench of raw fecal matter combined to turn my stomach, which was full
of seafood, veal and wine, completely over.
I tried to hold it back. I really did everything I could to stop
myself, but there are certain physical reactions that are beyond
conscious control. Before I knew what I was doing, it just came out:
“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
I vomited all over her ass. Into her crack. Into her asshole. On her ass cheeks. On the small of her back. Everywhere.
She turned her head, said, “Tucker, what are you doing?, saw me
vomiting on her, screamed “Oh my God!,�? and immediately joined me:
“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
Watching her throw up on my bed made me vomit even more. Her vomiting
all over my bed, me vomiting on her ass, the next step was almost
inevitable.
I heard the loud CRASH first, turned to see my friend break through the
shutters and rip the closet door off as he, the video camera, and the
door tumbled out of the closet and crashed onto the floor next to us:
“BBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
The memory of the 2-second span where all three of us were vomiting at
once is permanently seared into my brain. I have never heard anything
like that symphony of sickness. It was like something out of the old
Pink Panther movies.
I think the crowning moment was when my eyes locked with Jaime’s, I saw
her moment of realization and then her quick shift from shock and
surprise to complete and irreparable anger. Between bouts of hurling
she flipped out:
“OH MY GOD--BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH--YOU FILMED THIS, YOU ASSHOLE--
BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH-- HOW COULD YOU-- BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH--I THOUGHT YOU LOVED
ME--BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH--OH MY GOD-- BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH--I LET YOU FUCK ME IN
THE ASS--BBBLLLLAAAAHHHH.
She tried to stand up, slipped on the huge puddle of backflow
AstroGlide on the bed, and fell into both my pile and her pile of
vomit, covering her body and hair in vomit, shit and anal lubricant.
She flailed on the bed for a second, grabbed the top sheet, wrapped it
around her, and started running out of my place. Still naked and
retching, my dick covered in shit and oil, I followed her as far as my
front door.
The last contact I ever had with her is the image I witnessed of her in a dead sprint, a
shit, vomit and grease stained sheet stuck to her body, running from my apartment.
The camera we used was one of those old fragile ones that filmed onto a
VHS tape, and when he crashed out of the closet, the tape recorder and
tape broke. It didn't occur to us at that the tape records the images
magnetically, and we could take the actual tape itself and get someone
to put it in another holster until after we had thrown it out. I know
it seems stupid now, and believe me I kick myself about it everyday,
but you should have seen the apartment afterwards--the tape was not a
high priority. AstroGlide, shit and vomit covered EVERYTHING.
I had to rent one of those steam cleaners, buy a new mattress, and I
STILL lost my deposit. It was impossible to get the smell out. The next
month was like living in a sewer. Every girl I brought back to my place
after that refused to stay there, and some even refused to sleep with
me anywhere because of how my place smelled.
What I never found out, and I still want to know, is how the girl got
home. I never heard from her again, and the mutual friend who
introduced us called her but didn’t get her calls returned. I never
heard anything about her or from her again, even though she left her
clothes and ID at my place (she wore a tight dress out that night, and
didn’t bring a purse or any money with her).
Can you picture that scene? What did she do, hop in taxi? Wave down a
passing car? Get on the bus? She lived at least 30 miles away, there is
no way she walked home. It perplexes me to this day.
I'm hoping she reads this. Maybe then I’ll find out how she got home.