I was pretty drunk when we got back to her place, but that didn't seem to faze her. We didn't even make it to the bedroom. She grabbed me right as we came in the door, undid my pants as she pushed me onto her white sofa and knelt on the ground in front of me, working me right there in her living room.

My god was I right: She blew me away, literally and figuratively. She must have spent at least 20 minutes fellating me, never once taking her mouth off my penis, slurping at the exact right moments in the exact right places. She was so good my ankles even started sweating. God bless whoever taught her.

As soon as she finished, she went to the bathroom to wash out her mouth (she's one of those), and I stood up to rifle through my pants pocket and get a condom when I saw the sofa: there was a HUGE skid mark prominently displayed on her WHITE sofa.

I laughed at first. Then I remembered that she drove me to her place...and she lived a good 30 minutes away from where I was staying. As the thought of having to hitchhike 45 miles walked through my mind, she appeared out of the bathroom.

Thinking fast, I put my pants on the sofa and romantically whisked her into her bedroom, where I had to f@#$ her at least 3 or 4 times to get to go to sleep. Once she was safely out, I snuck out of her room and flipped the cushion.

I wonder if she ever found that stain.

Max, T. (2006). I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. The Phantom Menance. Retrieved from Tuckermax.com

    18 January, 2008

She was the absolute worst I've ever experienced. I've never even heard of girls worse at fellatio than Jayne. Her teeth were all over my dick, she had no rhythm, no enthusiasm, and had a mouth that mysteriously never got moist. It was awful.

It was a month of painstaking instruction before she finally got good enough that I didn't just stop her after 5 minutes and tell her to jerk me off--she was that bad. After another month or so, she got good enough that she could at least come close to finishing me off by herself. Here's the weirdest part: no matter how much she improved, she never moved her head. She kept her head still and I would have to move my hips. This was annoying, but I was patient with her because she was stunningly beautiful and I was still young enough to think I was in love (this was back when I thought I actually was capable of love).

One night she was doing a pretty good job and I got very enthused with my hip thrusts when I felt a warm, wet sensation on my crotch. I was laying on my back and I looked down and saw what looked like A LOT of splooge.

This confused me because even though I was close to coming, I didn't think I had actually achieved orgasm. The come was chunky to the touch, very dark, and much more viscous than any semen that I've ever seen shoot out of my dick. My first though was that I she had given me some crazy hybrid VD that made my come all thick and chunky. I dismissed that, but my mind was still racing; I couldn't figure out what could be wrong, so I said, "What did you do to my dick?"

She looked up at me. The expression on her face immediately gave it away:

"Oh my god--did you just throw up on my dick? Did you just VOMIT ON MY F@#$ING DICK?"

Yes, Tucker. Yes she did.

I ended up dating her for another two years (beauty does strange things to the male mind), but she stopped going down on me and we just focused on vaginal sex from that point forward.

Max, T. (2006). I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. Miss Chokesondick. Retrieved from Tuckermax.com

    18 January, 2008