I post enough embarrassing stuff on here that I figured I should just go ahead and share this one too. I'm honestly disgusted at how much sex/boy talk I've been doing lately. I swear I have other interests in my life, but I just suppose they just aren't as noteworthy. And honestly, my sex life is so much funnier than anything else I do. In fact, it's even a bit of a warning... Are you ready for my not-sexy sex story?
It would be just my luck to pick out a guy who has a thing for pain in the bedroom. Bite, scratch, beat, whatever it is, he's into it. You know what he's not into? Foreplay. Or Condoms.
Concerning the first one I just have to say, it's fucking necessary to turn on the sprinklers before you start running around in the front yard hoping for something to happen! And I haven't had sex in almost 5 months, it should be soooooooo easy for you to do. No excuses.
By the way, do you know what condoms have on them? lube.
And I'll just go ahead and do a little no-condom rant. I KNOW. I've been taught since the 6th grade that condoms are great, super important little things that are a necessity. Especially when having casual sex with someone. I KNOW. But we didn't and in my defense I asked for one a few times and he just claimed he didn't have one. You know what he didn't ask? If he come cum inside of me. Yeah, that happened. No permission given, he just went for it. I was dumbfounded. Saying "yeah I'm on birth control" was not "woman speak" for disregard condoms and, oh while your at it, put your sperm in me!
So, there was that nonsense. And I was in pain the whole time, both times. Strait up pain. The first time I even asked him to stop, don't finish, just stop. It's a little my fault, I'm not directive at all. I don't come with an instructions manual, I just hope that I have a good builder. One lesson learned from the sexcapade was speak up! Being quiet will get you nothing!
Or wait, it will get you something...
In my case it was a swollen v a g i n a. It happens during sex, it's honestly pretty natural (I looked it up). However, I got home and put an ice pack on my vagina. For about an hour. I wish I was kidding. Thankfully I'm a good sport, because it makes me laugh just to think about it. I mean, an ice pack shaped like an oreo was in my pants for a good part of my Friday while I was skipping classes because it hurt to walk or wear underwear. You can't make that shit up, you just have to live it.
Also when I got to my room I realized I'd walk of shamed with a hickey the size of Massachusetts on my shoulder and neck. Gigantic. A guy actually asked me if I got hit by/fell on something. That happened to be the weekend I went home and my amazing dad had the grace to ignore it while I did my best to apply make-up and wear clothes from my small selection of t-shirts (they make me feel like I'm choking so I don't own many).
I waited five months to have sex, and this is what happened to me. I just...it really does make me smile. I'm so ridiculous sometimes.
By the way (my little disclaimer), in the guy's defense, it wasn't all bad and he's actually a nice person. The good stuff just isn't as interesting or funny as the bad, so I won't bore you with it, haha.
Showing posts with label shit happens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shit happens. Show all posts
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Dirty socks and other laundry I'd like to air
So I'm about to talk about something really personal, awkward, and embarrassing. Even more than usual.
But first, I'd like to build it up and chat a little bit about some of the unconventional things my first semester of college has taught me:
1) Roommates aren't meant to share everything.
I'm very good friends with my roommate, we even chose to room together. We party together, share food, and talk to each other about mostly everything. However, I made the mistake of not putting my foot down about a guy I liked, and she ended up sleeping with him. That kind of sharing isn't okay. Share the fact he's off limits, don't share his dick.
2) You're going to have a shit ton of exams.
Study for one at a time. You will kill yourself trying to study a week ahead of time, keep up with the class, but don't spend every night making flash cards.
3) Laundry is expensive!
I spend about $20 on laundry every month and yet I just can't seem to get my socks as clean as my mom did...
4) Put a damn condom on. Please!
Everyone tells you this, basically from the time you learn about sex. You nod your head, swear you'll never go without, and then end up doing it anyways. In fact, even as I write this I know that whoever is reading this will, at some point, decide against a condom. You really won't realize how important they are until you have a pregnancy or STI scare. Hopefully it'll just be a scare and not too late.
And that brings me to number five. Oh, number five...you shitty little asshat.
A little over a week ago I went to a frat date night as a favor for my friend. Since most of the pledges and dates weren't 21 we pregamed before going to a club, which was fun. After a while my friend and I ditched our dates and began to really have a good time.
A screwdriver, shot, and 1/2 pitcher of beer later, I'm open minded enough to dance with just about anyone. When one of my lovely dance partners kisses me on the lips I don't think much of it, except for the fact that I wasn't into him enough for anything but dancing. I didn't pay much attention then, but I should have taken a good look at the giant cold sore on his freaking lip.
Herpes.
I realized yesterday that I'd been exposed and I was at the doctors less than 24 hours later, and that's where I got my (possibly) most important lesson.
Yeah, herpes is a shitty thing to have, but it's not that big of a deal. Apparently 1 in 6 people have it, although most don't break out. The doctor told me that I hadn't broken out yet, so I wouldn't, but that it was unnecessary to do a test because I most likely had been exposed to it at one point or another. I paid $15 so a doctor could tell me that basically "[I've] probably got this, but so does everyone else."
Needless to say, kissing strangers has officially been taken off of my to-do list and I'll be paying a lot more attention to cold sores, drunk or not.
Learn from me.
But first, I'd like to build it up and chat a little bit about some of the unconventional things my first semester of college has taught me:
1) Roommates aren't meant to share everything.
I'm very good friends with my roommate, we even chose to room together. We party together, share food, and talk to each other about mostly everything. However, I made the mistake of not putting my foot down about a guy I liked, and she ended up sleeping with him. That kind of sharing isn't okay. Share the fact he's off limits, don't share his dick.
2) You're going to have a shit ton of exams.
Study for one at a time. You will kill yourself trying to study a week ahead of time, keep up with the class, but don't spend every night making flash cards.
3) Laundry is expensive!
I spend about $20 on laundry every month and yet I just can't seem to get my socks as clean as my mom did...
4) Put a damn condom on. Please!
Everyone tells you this, basically from the time you learn about sex. You nod your head, swear you'll never go without, and then end up doing it anyways. In fact, even as I write this I know that whoever is reading this will, at some point, decide against a condom. You really won't realize how important they are until you have a pregnancy or STI scare. Hopefully it'll just be a scare and not too late.
And that brings me to number five. Oh, number five...you shitty little asshat.
A little over a week ago I went to a frat date night as a favor for my friend. Since most of the pledges and dates weren't 21 we pregamed before going to a club, which was fun. After a while my friend and I ditched our dates and began to really have a good time.
A screwdriver, shot, and 1/2 pitcher of beer later, I'm open minded enough to dance with just about anyone. When one of my lovely dance partners kisses me on the lips I don't think much of it, except for the fact that I wasn't into him enough for anything but dancing. I didn't pay much attention then, but I should have taken a good look at the giant cold sore on his freaking lip.
Herpes.
I realized yesterday that I'd been exposed and I was at the doctors less than 24 hours later, and that's where I got my (possibly) most important lesson.
Yeah, herpes is a shitty thing to have, but it's not that big of a deal. Apparently 1 in 6 people have it, although most don't break out. The doctor told me that I hadn't broken out yet, so I wouldn't, but that it was unnecessary to do a test because I most likely had been exposed to it at one point or another. I paid $15 so a doctor could tell me that basically "[I've] probably got this, but so does everyone else."
Needless to say, kissing strangers has officially been taken off of my to-do list and I'll be paying a lot more attention to cold sores, drunk or not.
Learn from me.
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