After a very heavy night of drinking at a party for some dumb skating club that none of my friends and I were apart of or had any interest in joining, my hammered self decided it would be a swell idea to invite everyone at the party over for the “afterparty” at 4 in the morning which consisted of absolutely nothing. Seemed like a great idea at the time though. Needless to say, people weren’t really over at our place that long, except for a drunk & horny chick who apparently had it in her mind that she could treat my humble home as the Golden Corral of C***. Her name was Megin (and yes she spells it like a fucking moron and made a big deal about you knowing that her special name was unique because her stupid fucking mom couldn’t spell Megan, or Meghan, or even Maegan.) and she was what I like to refer to as a “closet whore.” On the surface, a girl like Megin, seemed like the type to pull out some “oral secks iz sew demeening y’all!” card, but as I found out, she was starving for anyone to fill that fat, fucking hole on her face.
I proceeded to head to bed while a few of my compadres crashed on our couches. Little did I know, that lights out meant “GO” to Megin. From the other room I heard someone start spitting which meant one of two things, someone is spitting on my floor or someone is about to give some sort of practiced porn star blowjob on someone in that room. I decided to investigate.
Never before have I walked in on someone slobbering relentlessly at someone’s c*** and had them notice me and then continue their actions. While 2 other people were, I assume, just too drunk to give a fuck in their sleeping spots, Megin was going to town on one of my good friends man parts. I decided to just go back to my room. Not even 5 minutes later, as you can probably guess, Whore-gin was sitting on my legs asking me if it was ok if she sucked me off. Was this girl serious? How wasted could she be? Am I going to get charged with rape in the morning? What should I do?…
As you can probably guess, I took that slut up on the offer and she went through the motions of getting her fix. Now after I’ve released my babies down a girls throat, I pass out. By the time I woke up the next day she was already gone, but girls tend to want to exchange numbers which apparently she did on her own. My phone already had a wonderful text from Megin which read, appropriately, “I’m very playful!.”
Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol? You be the judge!
