When Trying To Get Laid Goes Horribly Wrong…

See, I’m very tomboyish and there’s this successful cute guy I really like. Problem is I’m not the only one who does. Martha – my housemate also does, and we both know this. She’s quite girly, so she has the upper hand. This guy knows we both like him, we’ve not tried to hide it at all. We are past that age. We also know he likes us both and has been mentally struggling to choose.

All’s fair in love and war, so we decided to both have sex with him. Not all at the same time, of course. We know once a man rides the tricycle, it’s very hard to be content with the bicycle. Martha and I both wanted the more stable two-wheeled contraption, so the alternative was out of the question. This way, we felt he could make a clear decision. Desperation has a way of distorting one’s moral compass. It’s not like we were virgins or anything like that. I for one didn’t lose sleep over popping that cherry.

The resulting snag would however be that whoever he picked would have to live with the fact that her housemate had slept with the new bae. I can live with this, at least I think I can. When it comes to this guy, I don’t care much if Martha can. If he does pick her and she can’t, it’s still to my advantage. A win-win situation.

In deciding who would go first, we decided to play “Draw your swords”. I honestly feel bad that we involved the Holy Bible in our shenanigans but that’s what we did. Whichever one of us opened a page with the highest number won the rights to the first week. It was a Friday night, we’d had a couple of outings in the week and it was finally time to seal the deal.

So we were at this fancy bar-slash-lounge on the Island. Music was good, and after a number of tequila shots and glasses of champagne, I felt an urge to go empty my bowels. I could have sat there and wiggled it away, but it seemed better to get it out sooner rather than later. I didn’t want to get back to his apartment and turn him off by asking to take a dump.

I entered the first stall and heard grunting from the second. The lady in there was really having a go at it. It wasn’t long before I heard her flush and exit the stall. After about ten minutes, I was done. Without taking my eyes off my phone, I stretch my hand to feel for my hand bag that I left lying on the floor somewhere in the cubicle. The corner is empty when I take my face off the phone screen. Nasty grunting girl must have swiped my bag from under the divider.

There was nothing more expensive in the bag than the bag itself, so not too much was lost. The problem was that I had my toilet roll in there! So there I was, stuck in the toilet without toilet paper and I couldn’t call “cute successful guy” to help, as it would have been a turn off, and I had to seal the deal that night. I also couldn’t just pull up my undies and walk out, because I was wearing a thong under a really tight skirt. I had been in there quite a while and I needed to really think fast if the night was going to go according to plan.

So I undid my buttons and took off my bra. It was a nice clean wipe and I tossed it behind the closet. My jean jacket was lying on cute guy’s lap somewhere in the lounge. Or maybe this was in my favour. Maybe I don’t have to put on my jacket. Maybe all of “this” would put Mr. Cute Successful in the mood.

I’m out, and cute successful guy has taken the cue. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should get going”, he suggests.

“Are you sure?”, I reply, bobbing my head and snapping my fingers, pretending I’m having a really nice time here. “Okay. Let’s just do one more shot”, I suggest with fake reluctance. Cute boy nods. While we wait for the bartender to fill our tequila glasses, man-I-don’t-know-from-anywhere bumped into me spilling content from his rock glass unto the sleeve of my blouse. I didn’t think anything of it because it was just vodka – it would have dried in a jiffy.

We get up and begin to make for the exit, then a member of staff passed beside me carrying flambé. My vodka soaked sleeve ignited and began to burn really fast. A good Samaritan came to my rescue while I was dancing an extended version of shakitibobo. My rayon blouse was torn off my torso in seconds and I was  left standing there dressed in only a skirt. I looked like a forest Zulu maid. Cute successful guy quickly covered me with my jacket chanting ‘Oh my God, Oh my God’. I was mortified, humiliated even. The skin over my arm has a slight erythema, nothing serious.

“Maybe I should just flag a cab to take you home.”

Cute boy finally broke the awkward silence with a face that I really couldn’t argue with. It sinks in that my plans weren’t going to work out that night, or possibly any other night. My jacket only had one button so I looked like I was working the red lights. The cab stopped and I hopped in so hurriedly that I fell face flat on the back seat.

“Wild fun night, yeah?”, the Uber cabbie asked as we pull away. I slumped in my seat.

***

We’re sure the OP isn’t the only one who has experienced a few misadventures while trying to get laid. Let’s hear your horror stories in the comments section.

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Comments
  • Avatar

    Lol @ forest Zulu maid. I nearly fainted from laughing so hard.

    Ah, a series of unfortunate events.

    October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    Andronicus

    Which fancy bar/lounge does not have tissues in their restroom.

    Anyhoo, I see no reason why cute guy did not get down with her that night or any other night. Heck, I’ll give her an old shirt to take home as a souvenir.

    Maybe Martha planned it!

    October 25, 2016
    • Avatar
      G B

      Thank you, o! If anything, I see her being shirtless as on barrier less.

      October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    Tokoni Akosubo

    It was definitely Martha! OMG, if something like that happened to me, I would curl up in a fetal position and die

    October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    Tokoni Akosubo

    I’d just be crying in tongues

    October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    Mesozoic

    Lmao. No tissues in the rest room.

    October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    redforx

    “She’s quite girly, so she has the upper hand.”

    This could explain why the dude wasn’t interested in her (the narrator).

    It takes a ‘man-woman’ to blend with a tomboy.

    October 25, 2016
    • Avatar
      Toby

      it takes a ‘man-woman’???

      October 26, 2016
      • Avatar
        redforx

        That’s what I call a man who isn’t an alpha male.
        An alpha male is obviously a ‘man-man’.
        Which makes a tomboy, ‘woman-man’.

        🙂

        October 26, 2016
        • Avatar
          Toby

          Oh, my apologies (putting down the artillery) i thought it was vaguely homophobic.

          October 27, 2016
        • Avatar
          Kad

          Errr , I doubt that. It’s even mostly the men- men that follow tomboys

          October 29, 2016
          • Avatar
            Madu

            Yea, I agree with you.

            A tomboy’s closest pal(s) is likely to be mostly guys. But I think it hardly goes beyond just friends. I haven’t seen an alpha male date a tomboy. That relationship will definitely be high on testosterone. Very weird. Although, it wouldn’t be weird though for those who would spend 14 years behind bars if caught.

            I feel the tomboy attitude is one strong reason why the dude is more interested in her housemate.

            October 29, 2016
  • Avatar
    tellanslem

    The story didn’t end with the right dosage of sentences. Don’t keep me turned on !

    October 25, 2016
  • Avatar
    Toby

    well, there was that one time i wanted to get freaky and decided to get some in a bush, and ended up with the experience of really awkward sex and a skin irritation from local plant-life………..oh and the humiliation of some crotchety old woman yelling at me saying whores like me would burn in hell for defiling her compound.
    There’s that.

    October 26, 2016
    • Avatar
      B

      Looooooool! Crotchewhaaaaaat

      November 6, 2016
      • Avatar
        Toby

        No i swear down, she was having none of that. It was a huge thing that i thought police would get involved, You have not run until you run from screams of death and hell while trying to buckle up everything and not look suspicious.

        November 7, 2016
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