Friction Burns where no Burns should be!

I’ve dictated this story to a good girl-friend of mine and, as much as I wish it was, she said that the story sounds a lot like a fan-fiction novel… Unfortunately, it wasn’t fan-fiction and I have certain marks which will never leave me. 

(My girl-friend also described it as being the “perfect example of why one should not try out what you read in fanfiction in real life.” I tend to agree with her in that area – especially when it concerns the sexual relationship between two parties.)

Do you know of the game called Ring of Fire? For those who do not, it is a drinking game constituting of a pack of 52 cards laid face down in a circle around a large glass goblet. Each card is associated with an action or rule that must be obeyed throughout the remainder of the game.

The Order

The Rules

For example; each 2 nominates someone, <card picker’s choice>, to take a shot of alcohol.

Funnily enough, I still took part in this game, albeit I did not drink alcohol - due to being on medications, I drank soft-drink and juice concoctions… Most of which tasted much worse than a simple alcoholic drink. (Just imagine Sprite, Fanta and Coke mixed with pineapple and orange juice, with a teaspoon of blue Carcajou… *Trembling*)

That night, a huge group of colleagues, friends and acquaintances took part in this game; where in there was this one very luscious female Ukrainian girl (let me call her… Olga) taking part in this game, as well as the guy who I consider to be family. We made a silent deal that whoever got the 6 of hearts which represented that two people must be picked to make out together would make the other make out with that girl.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTENT SHOULD ONLY BE READ BY 18+

That night, I must have spent most of my luck. He got the card, I got the girl and we ended up in my hotel room for the night, having a night of meaningless, animalistic sex. Her nails turned my back into the remnants of a corpse from Sweeney Todd and my hands pressed her every button to the point where she turned into a pile of lustful flesh without any human reasoning left inside of her. After coitus (Thanks, Sheldon! – Big Bang Theory), this happened in a constant loop, where we slept a few hours at a time to re-energise ourselves; ordering food using room service and having mindless sex in every position physically possible using her flexibility and my strength. Even our next door neighbours complained about the screams and moans that echoed from across the balcony.

SEXUAL CONTENT IS FINISHED FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS

The morning of the third day, I woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten note saying simply:

“Thanks for a great weekend,

It was fun!

Olga

P.S. I’m Sore”

I felt used and betrayed that she abused me for the sexual encounter… Yet strangely proud for having such a satisfying weekend.

As a side note… This weekend also damaged my health slightly… I’ve mentioned it before and even though I have never heard of it happening before, I had friction burns across my… “instrument”…

MORAL OF THE STORY... Keep LUBE in Reach!!!

Kitty B: “Lube is your friend”

The American “Sexter”

The last photos I had received from a foreign colleague of mine were those of a pair of red, shiny and glittered cowboy boots which for some reason reminded me of Ted’s (HIMYM). She had asked me for an opinion on whether they were worth buying or not. Luckily enough they were for a girl and not for an odd and over-eccentric romantic Theodore Mosby.

Those were my last received photos… Till this week. This week a cute girl added me on Facebook and started chatting to me from across 7,387km. At first, the conversation was flowing and interesting till she began suggesting that this… “Relationship” (I shudder at the thought that this girl had already begun considering that this meek and innocent conversation we formed had already, in her mind, digressed into a long distance relationship) could be developed into a more… mature one... (I really want her to define what maturity is to her…)

I believed that the girl was simply fooling and joking with me until I began to receive the…images. Initially they were of her body in tight fitting outfits followed by images of her in less and less clothing… Till the only item she was left wearing was a skimpy piece of lace clothing surrounding her… lower waist.

As any other man, I have sexual desires but these photos still did not encourage me to pursue this “relationship” further and I informed her so… until the images became less and less appropriate for online conversation and descended into the realm of carnal lust. 

I tried to convince her that I was not interested… then she asked for nude poses of me in exchange for those of her… (In a similar fashion to that of American Pie 2, where Jim and Stiffler must role play activities for those two feisty female roommates.) I will not lie that it took me a few minutes to make my choice… One that I hopefully wouldn’t regret.

"zzzzz... Houston... We go lesbians... zzzzzzzzz"

Knowing the bare minimum about me, I made up the best excuse that suited the current moment and would stop her from posting any more photos to me – I told her solemnly, “I’ll talk to you later. One of my patients needs me.” This phrase elicited an overly emotional yet terse goodbye from her. To be honest... I regret missing out on her...

A week later, I found her posting photos of my home on our chat log. She had visited most of the places that I frequented and after each message, she wrote “I was waiting for you here!”

I’ve never been so grateful for the Block function of Facebook till that day.