Hump day hookup horror stories

Apparently, if a woman goes a long time without being penetrated for lack of a better term the vaginal walls tighten.

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Sorry for the graphic description, but I seriously have no other way to explain what happened. The worst was yet to come. The nurse told her she had to go two weeks without sex. But this story undoes all of that. Boy, was I wrong. In light of how terrible the music and prepubescent, furry boot-wearing crowd was, I proceeded to get annihilated. While outside taking a smoke break, I met a seemingly normal gentleman caller who had also been dragged along by his sweet hipster friends.

We chatted for a bit, exchanged numbers, and parted ways into the raging, rolling-their-faces-off mass of people. As the show ended and the ravers filed out into the streets, Fireball and I decided it was completely normal to call my new friend and see where the night was taking him.


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He answered and we met outside. I then simply walked away from my friends, and like any intelligent girl would do on the streets of Baltimore, hopped into a car with four male strangers bound to God knows where. We got back to the house, went onto the rooftop porch, and continued drinking wine my other kryptonite to sanity. I proceeded to argue loudly with one of his douchebag friends about how the Steelers blow. I was a big hit. After this battle of wits, my man and I headed off for some privacy, where I told him about my muay thai skills and began putting on a display in his bedroom.

I kicked and punched around his room, and somehow, his balls ended up directly in the path of an ill-timed swift kick. He crumpled to the floor as I apologized profusely and vowed to make it up to him.

Post Grad Problems | Humpday Hookup Horror Stories: Ballsack Jacuzzi

At this point, I expected him to shuttle me out, but we proceeded to have sex because he had already invested too much. After we did the deed, I cuddled him something I hate and probably told him I loved him or something embarrassing like that. Shockingly, he never called. Fireball and I called him a few weeks later.

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Fucking Bill Shakespeare over here. Archive Advertise with us. Columns Humpday Hookup Horror Stories: Dated a girl for about 2 years. Like all relationships, things got a bit stale in the bedroom, and it just so happens that this chick I was dating was an insane slut who would not stand for this.

Humpday Hookup Horror Stories: Always Bet On Red

I knew that no good could possibly come from this, but before I could object to this mystery sexual act, she had already secured a warm glass of water and a straw. For what you ask? The only way I can describe it is a ballsack jacuzzi. She delicately placed my young, beautiful, balls into the glass and began blowing into the straw. I went with it for about 25 seconds before I had to throw in the towel. She was clearly embarrassed, for good reason, and I made things worse by laughing hysterically.

Did I mention we were both sober? I realize that I share some of the blame for not properly vetting the sexual act before hand, but players gonna play. The horror story starts on a sunny Southern California Saturday morning when I was suddenly awaken by the chime of my iPhone alarm clock. I had forgotten to turn it off in my drunken stupor Friday night and I was about to pay a heavy price for it.

I shot up and slammed on my phone to stop the incessant noise from blaring. As I sat up, my brain felt like a yoke in an eggshell being shaken violently by someone too young to grasp the idea of scrambled eggs. It was only seconds later, as the room was finally coming to clarity, that I heard a soft and harmonious read: The moments that followed were out of your typical fairy tale as we both pretended to remember the hows, whos and whats that were suddenly and shamefully coming to fruition.

I felt far more relieved than she possibly could have because she was definitely much more of a looker than I. This soon turned to uncontrollable anxiety because what had I done to somehow manage this?

Humpday Hookup Horror Stories: The Little Things

The embarrassing possibilities were endless. The true morning-after weirds came in the car ride back to her place. She lived a few exits down the I, which to anyone in LA is a big no-no on a Saturday morning.