And now for something completely different

I met a nanny, who was from Brasil.
We had a brief romance, that was until…
She had to go home, her stay was complete.
So I booked a trip, refusing defeat.
We got engaged on New Years Eve,
It was a beautiful night I found hard to believe.
On a Fiance Visa she traveled back to the US,
To continue our courtship, without barriers between us.
Our passion was bright, but we argued and fought,
She missed her family, her friends, and I thought:
We are better off friends, than lovers and soul mates,
So I shipped her ass back before her Visa expiration date!

Heart Breaker

Things became more caustic between V and I. She was steadily getting worse with the drinking, and at times I didn’t feel safe with her. I could picture her stabbing me for no reason, and at almost any time, for some slight she perceived but never happened.

Eventually, I asked her not to come over anymore when she drank. We fought for a while about why I disliked her when she drank, and after her not hearing anything I said, I hung up on her. This was a bad choice.

V immediately drove to my house to confront me. On her way over, she left me some voice messages filled with rage and hate. She hated when people hung up on her and how dare I? Who did I think I was? I remembered saying almost the same exact thing to one or two of my exs.

When V arrived at my house, I cowered inside and pretended not to be home. I specifically moved and hid my car out of fear she might key it, or crash into it, or break all the windows. She rang the doorbell and knocked on my door.

After a few seconds, I heard a loud bang on the door. It sounded like she kicked the screen door. Thirty seconds later, another loud bang. Then another and another. Finally it got quiet and through the window I watched V drive away.

I opened my door and saw what the loud bang was. V ripped the plants around my apartment out of the ground and threw them at my door. She must have had some crazy rage strength because she ripped the plants out by the roots and heaved them at least 15 feet through the air to hit my door with a hefty thud.

Not only that, but she picked the plants with prickly leaves that hurt when you touch them. Her hands must have been bleeding, yet she threw three more plants after that first one.

I was thoroughly impressed with her. No one had ever shown that much enthusiasm in their disgust for me. V had gone above and beyond this time. I set about trying to re-plant the bushes she tried to kill, and gave them some water, hoping they could still live. It took me a good 30 minutes to put the plants back in the ground and clean up.

When I was almost finished, I got a text from my neighbor up the street. V was walking around the neighborhood putting fliers on everyone’s car. Apparently she learned this trick from Sex and The City. She was determined to let everyone know that I was a horrible person, and could not be trusted.


By the time she made it around to my apartment I was ready for her. She walked fiercely to each car in the lot and placed a flier on it. I watched my very sweet and older female neighbor ask her not to put anything on her car, but V just looked at her like my neighbor was crazy.

I walked up to V and asked her to stop. I explained that she was being ridiculous, but she wasn’t hearing me. She had on a menacing smile and cackled a maniacal laugh. There was fire in her eyes like I hadn’t seen before. This was the look I feared. I understood that it meant she had gone completely crazy and was entirely unreasonable.

Finally, after speed walking after her and pulling the fliers off the cars she littered, I caught up to her and took the rest of the paper away from her. She must have made 200 copies at least. She walked the entire circumference of the complex putting a flier on each car on both sides of the street, and she still had a hefty stack left in her hand. She was prepared for a full onslaught.

When I grabbed the fliers from her she screamed at me.


By now more neighbors came outside to see the commotion.

“V, calm down. You are acting like a lunatic. Who do you really think is going to care about your flier? What are you trying to accomplish? You know you ruined innocent plants? What is wrong with you?”

I was trying to talk sense into her, but I went about it entirely the wrong way.

I learned a valuable lesson. Do not tell a crazy person that they are a lunatic when they are acting especially crazy. They may take that slight as a personal challenge to prove you correct.

V started screaming nonsensical guttural sounds. By then I was legitimately afraid for my life. I felt that at any moment she was going to stab me. I had witnesses, and I didn’t lay a hand on her except for grabbing those papers out of her hand, but I still didn’t trust that she would hold herself back anymore. I stepped back and braced for impact, but right then V changed.

She took a deep breath, looked me in the eye, and walked past me, brushing my shoulder with hers as she did. The look in her eyes at that moment was completely calm; she almost smiled at me, it was hard to fathom. How could a nutcase go from murderous rage to serenity in a split second like that?

I laughed at the absurdity of the situation, as if to tell everyone now watching that it was all a joke.

Go back to your homes, people… nothing to see here.

I started shaking as I walked around and removed the hate mail from the rest of the cars she flier-ed. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I was extremely embarrassed. My friend who lives next door helped me remove a few of the letters.

“What was that about?” He asked me.

“Who the hell knows, that girl is fucking crazy. You know that.”

“Yeah, but this was above and beyond grabbing some girl’s tits. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore, and I hung up on her. She didn’t like that.”

“I’m keeping this flier.” He laughed.

We started talking more about how V was insane, and how everyone knew that was exactly what I liked most about her. It was true. For all of V’s faults, she wasn’t boring at all. She definitely kept me on my toes, and kept things interesting for us.

My neighbor Jen, who called and gave me the heads up, helped clean off some cars on her side of the block. People were outside talking about what happened. Jen decided to keep some of the fliers herself to make fun of me.

The next weekend my room mates and I had a party for the neighborhood. Jen made T-shirts for some of the neighborhood people with slogans from the flier. My shirt said “Heartbreaker” and had a picture of a broken heart under that.

Jen wore a shirt that said “Mark Smith is a liar,” and my buddy Matty wore one that said, “Mark Smith broke my heart.” We all had a good laugh as I told the story of that day. People were most impressed by the plant murders.

It took V a few weeks to call me after that incident. She actually apologized this time, but then warned me never to hang up on her again. I learned my lesson. The next time I hang up on her would be my last.

That incident was the beginning of the end for us. We saw each other a few more times, but we started talking much less. V went away for a week for her new job orientation. While she was there, she met someone and when she came back she told me she was dating him now.

I was upset to hear the news, but also grateful. I was having a difficult time getting over V, and I couldn’t think of any possible way to get out of our caustic relationship. I had tried telling her I didn’t want to be with her anymore, but V never listened. She made the rules, she came over when she wanted, and she left on her terms only. The only way out was for her to meet someone else.

As a form of torture, V liked to call me and tell me about her new boyfriend. He was amazing and he loved her the way she wanted to be loved. He would do anything for her, and I was a piece of shit. I grew tired of the weekly calls, and after some time I stopped answering.

Ignoring V was not easy, she did not appreciate voice mail. Instead, she saw a move to voice mail as a personal slight and she spent the next hour calling and calling back until I answered. When I refused, she sent hate texts to me, explaining why I was such a pussy. It was difficult to ignore, she knew how to push my buttons, but eventually I got pretty good at it.

After a few months of not hearing from her, V called me again. I mistakenly answered. She was now engaged and moving in with her boyfriend. He lived in Virginia and she was moving down there next week. She wanted to see me one last time.

We met for dinner the day before she was supposed to leave. I didn’t really believe she was moving, but I was willing to listen. We talked as friends, and stayed sober. I realized that I really loved V when she was sober.

It was a shame she couldn’t be sober with me normally. It was the drinking that caused most of our problems, and that night I learned a little about my own issues with alcohol as well.

V explained myself to me. She was incredibly lucid, and spot on. She knew what I was thinking, what had gone on in my head, and why I had acted the way I had towards her. She surprised me again by apologizing for her part in our horrible relationship. She was happy now and she wanted me to be happy as well. She hoped we could stay friends.

I saw the person I loved in her, and my heart sank when the night ended. We went our separate ways after dinner, when normally she would tell me how much she hated me and we would end up in bed having amazing sex. Instead, we made a difficult transition to friends.

From then on when V called, I answered. She quit drinking and was trying to quit smoking. She was volunteering in her community and she was befriending homeless people. She had turned into the person I always hoped she would be with me. She lost her job, but she hated it anyway.

Corporate life was not for V, she was not good at following rules and structure. I was proud of her the way a trainer would be of his protege. She actually listened to some of the things I told her, and even though I never got to enjoy the new V, we could be friends now like we never were before. I was happy for her and relieved at the same time.

Three’s Company

A month later V invited herself over. Coincidentally my roommates and I were having a party, and with her being socially maladjusted, it was not a great fit. She tried to get involved in some conversations but it never went well. My friends kept asking what was wrong with the weird hot chick.

“Oh, that’s Red Pants, try not to get sucked into a conversation with her.” My neighbor would say. He was right.

Towards the end of the night V was picking up steam. She overheard my new female roommate talk about hopping a fence and jumping into the neighborhood pool.

V was now on a mission to prove she was the coolest one there. She commissioned me to gather a few brave souls, and we all walked to the pool. We had a key to the lock, so no one had to actually jump a fence. This was lucky, because V was not the type to hop fences in heels.

In the pool, V got into a conversation with my roommate that I couldn’t hear, but soon enough the two were kissing. I think V came on to her because she was jealous I had a female roommate and V wanted to make sure she could control my roomie and keep her away from me.

This is just a guess. Everyone at the pool enjoyed the scene, with a few cat calls and grumbling. I was licking my lips like a cat staring at a bird cage.

Back at the apartment, the party was dying down. By the time we left the pool and walked back, there was no one left. V and my roomie kept flirting enough for me to understand they wanted some alone time. I had hoped I could join in, but V was insistent that I remain away. I went to my room and waited for the girls to either finish up or go into a room.

After 10 minutes or so I thought I heard the two go into the room next to mine, so I made my way out of my room and started downstairs. As I descended I heard V and my roomie start to scramble.

They had in fact not moved anywhere and were still in the living room. V was on her knees on the floor, while my roommate was sitting on the couch. Both girls were naked, but it was my roomie who was enjoying it the most. Her legs were on V’s shoulders, while V was buried deep between her thighs. It looked like fun to me.

“You girls need any help?” I said, hoping to add a penis to the party.

My room mate jumped up, grabbed her clothes, and made off past me and up the stairs. It was the last time we would see her that night. V got up slowly and gave me a mean stare.

“You scared her away, I was just getting started. Now she won’t go down on me.” V said disappointed.

‘Sorry, I thought I heard you two head to her room. I will be happy to eat you out. I would love it actually, so lets go.”

“No, you ruined everything!” She scolded.

It took a few more beers, but eventually she let me go down on her. I love going down on a sexy lady, and V was no exception. I could spend the entire night down there if she let me. V wasn’t about to let me enjoy it though, she began degrading my sexual prowess, and tackling my ego with every lick.

“You suck at this,” moan, ‘I fucking hate you,” moan, “Just give it up, you don’t know what you are doing.”

But I knew what I was doing, and I knew she liked it because she was moaning in ecstasy. Between breaths she would take time to insult me, but when I looked up with a sad face, she would push my head back down and demand me not to stop.

Maybe she just enjoyed hate sex or something, I never did figure her out. I was happy enough to be where I was, and even if she was really mean about it, at least I was having sex with her again.

The next morning V woke up with a smile on her face. My roomie didn’t leave her room until V left, but she was smiling as well when she finally came downstairs. She told me that V was amazing, and I let her know it would have been nice of her to return the favor. I was still holding out hope for a round two, but that never happened.

Bed Wetter: Part Deux

One night after great sex, V told me that she fell in love with me. I regrettably laughed her off, assuming she wouldn’t remember. Like every other time, V was incredibly drunk when we fucked that night.

She had yet to be sober during any of our sexual encounters, and I could not take her seriously when she was drunk. This was her other personality talking, and not the real person that I actually liked.

After that night, V became verbally abusive to me when she drank. I put up with it because I understood she was hurt about something, and she wasn’t really upset with me. She was just taking it out on me, and as long as she let me take it out on her pussy, I was OK with it.

It was a caustic relationship, but it worked for us. During the summer we would hang out and get along well, then she would get drunk and berate me. Eventually, I would get her naked and fuck her, and in the morning she would leave and wouldn’t talk to me for a while.

The silence usually lasted a week or two, but one time she refused to speak to me for a month. On this particular incident, V came over to my house already drunk, of course. She demanded beer, and more of it ended up on my floor than in her mouth. She didn’t care. After sex she tried to leave but I begged her to stay and sleep it off. In the morning I felt a wet spot.

I thought I was prepared for anything, and thanks to Christie I learned how to handle this situation. I woke V up, explained that she pissed my bed, and got up to take the sheets off and dry out my mattress. V was horrified and blamed it on me.

“You pissed on me and now you’re blaming it on me? You’re disgusting, and I never want to see you again! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

Well, this was a surprise. I was prepared for embarrassment, for an apology, or even for her to run out of my room in horror, but I was not prepared for that. Speechless at first, I then started to laugh. I just couldn’t believe she would be so adamant in her denial.

It wasn’t even up for discussion, there was a perfect circle under her. There was no way I could have done it, but her denial made me second guess everything. Did I really do it? I wasn’t even drunk, but maybe I didn’t know. Did I unfairly blame Christie before? What was going on?

I cleaned up while V took a shower. She felt gross after I peed on her. When she got out she had calmed down, but she didn’t forgive me.

“You are trying to blame me for something you did. I will not forgive you for this.” She left without saying goodbye.

Ass Man

Aside from jealousy, V and I had many things in common, one of which was that we both went back to college after messing up the first try. For me, it was pot and acid that changed my mind about studying. For V, it was heartbreak, followed by GHB and other rave type drugs, that did her in.

When V was 18, she fell in love with a Brazilian girl at school. They were inseparable for their first semester, and moved in together second semester of their freshman year. Not long after that, V’s girlfriend met a guy and broke off the love affair with her. V was crushed, and she turned to clubs and drugs.

By the end of her first year, V dropped out of school and moved to Florida with her new boyfriend. He was a club promoter and V took solace in that scene to wipe away her pain. She soon learned that men were just as bad at keeping their promises as her Brazilian lover, and after two years in Florida she came back home.

When I met V she had already sworn off love entirely, and decided to focus on a career. She had gone back to school, was flying through an accounting degree, and had already lined up the job she was fighting for. Things were going well for her, until I interrupted. Of course I didn’t know this story until it was too late.

After a while V and I became very close. Our relationship centered around sex, and we had amazing sex. She was incredibly flexible and willing to try anything. She was also vastly more experienced I was, but I didn’t want to let her know that.

We went out to dinner at a romantic Japanese restaurant and drank Sake. V polished off a bottle on her own, and we split the other bottle. During dinner, the conversation turned sexual. She wanted to know what my fantasies were, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to make our sex better for her.

“Have you ever had anal?” She smiled at me.

“Yeah, of course.” I said casually. Inside, my heart started beating faster. The truth was that I had not tried it before, but I was hoping that if I said yes, she would let me try it with her. I had been caught in this lie before, but by no means was I willing to get caught again. I would do whatever it took to go through with it.

“Well, I really like that. I think we should try that sometime.” She suggested.

“Sure! I want to do anything you want V, you know that. I aim to please, of course.” I tried to say reassuringly, but I couldn’t tell if she bought it or not.

We finished up dinner describing graphic sex scenes we each would like to be involved with. Interestingly, we both wanted to add another girl into the mix. In my fantasy, I was fucking both women.

In V’s fantasy, my penis was not allowed to touch the other girl. I could grab her tits, kiss her, or anything else that kept my cock away from our threesome partner. We never agreed on the ground rules, but did agree that we would start looking for a possible partner.

When we got back to my apartment, we immediately went upstairs and took off our clothes. V was happier naked, and I was happier to have her naked. Even just to watch her walk around, it was a great enjoyment to have her naked. We started having sex and after a few positions V pushed me off her and turned around. I began approaching her doggy style.

“You can put it in my ass.” She said quietly.

Had I heard her right? Oh shit! She wanted me to put it in her ass but what if I don’t do it right? Truth be told, I wasn’t really sure I would fit in there. It looked like way too small a hole for me.

“OK,” I gulped. I lined up the tip with her butt and tried to push it in a little. V spat on her hand and lubed my shaft up.

“You have to make sure its wet.” She said.

“Right.” I bent over and licked her tight asshole. I was grossed out, but I didn’t taste anything, so I felt better about it. I held my breath just in case. Once her balloon knot was sufficiently lubed, I aimed my cock once again for the hole. I positioned myself up against her and I began pushing on the door.

Nothing. It wasn’t fitting. Now I started to get scared. She was going to find me out, just like Molly did. She will know I don’t know what I’m doing, and she won’t let me do it anymore. I am losing my chance!

After a few pushes, still nothing was happening. I pushed again, this time harder, until I knocked her head into my headboard.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

“Sorry. It isn’t fitting.”

She turned her head and gave me the fish eye. The look was one of surprise and confusion. Her one eye with a raised eyebrow was asking me what the fuck I was doing back there.

The panic set in. I was about to be found out. I had no clue and she wouldn’t like me anymore. I decided to give it one last try but when I pushed this time, my cock bent in half. Fuck!

Now I was losing my hard on because I was freaking out. I could not let this happen. I started squeezing my ass cheeks together to try and keep it up. V turned back around again and gave me the look. Finally, I grabbed the base of my cock and pumped it up so I could jam it in.

“Here goes nothing.” I said to myself, and gave one final thrust. I pushed past the opening and jammed my cock inside her.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK!?” She screamed at me.

I was in! And now, oh shit, I came. Fuck! I gave a few more strokes and faked my orgasm. When I pulled out I ran to the bathroom and took a shower. There was shit all over my dick, and I wanted it off. V came to join me and kicked me out so she could do her business in private. I assume it had something to do with shitting out my load. I felt sad for my bath tub.

When V got out of the shower I came clean about my experience. She already let me do it, so I guessed there wasn’t much to lose. Plus I didn’t fall in love with anal sex, it was kinda gross really, so if she didn’t let me do it again, I wasn’t going to be upset.

We did do it again a few times after that, and I got better at it. Her favorite position was on her back. She would throw her legs up and place her feet in the headboard. I would slide into her ass while she masturbated her clit.

This was the only way she ever had an orgasm with me. I had plenty, but she never did. I assumed it was because she was always drunk, and it had nothing to do with my sexual prowess.

Red Pants

V let me cool down and we talked less often after our torrid affair, until one day she asked to come over. I said sure, and when she walked in, she was already drunk. She wanted to fuck, and I decided to help her out.

This went on for the rest of the spring semester, but by summer she and I were spending more time together. I began introducing her to friends and neighbors, and each introduction was worse than the one before. V was socially awkward at minimum, and she often took it to another level.

One night I asked V to come out to the bars with my friends and I. I had some other friends out who I wanted her to meet. When she came over she was in one of her famous outfits. This one however gave her the nickname “Red Pants.”

She wore bright red pants that were so tight you could see a cough ripple through her ass. Of course she also had red heels, a red purse, ruby earrings, a ruby pendant necklace, a red hair tie, a white shirt, and a red and white blazer.

She painted her finger and toe nails red. I later learned her bra and panties were also red. She looked hot, but she also looked way out of place in my town. She belonged on a runway with that outfit, it wasn’t something people wear.

We got to the bar after a minute of my friends fighting to drive us. When I saw my friend Becky at the bar I went over to say “Hi.” V came right up behind me. I introduced the two and while Becky said “Hi”, V just stared at her for a minute.

Finally, she took her right hand and stuck it inside Becky’s shirt. Becky had huge DD breasts, and everyone’s, including Becky’s, mouth dropped to the floor. V grabbed her left breast and pulled it up, then grabbed the right one and pulled it up to match. She took her hands out of Becky’s shirt and pushed up at the sides.

“There, that looks better. You should look in a mirror before you come out.”

Horrified, Becky turned towards me. I had a huge smile on my face and behind us, all our friends were laughing. No one could believe what just happened. Did she really just do that?

On the one hand, she was right. Becky needed to plump her breasts up and showcase them better. She wore the wrong bra for her size. Her bra held her breasts down and in, but she needed one that lifted them up and together. V’s maneuver helped, and in her mind, she was doing my friend a favor by making her look better, since appearance is the only thing that mattered.

On the other hand, and for the rest of the world, social conventions and personal space matter more than appearance.

A few drinks later I spotted a neighbor across the bar. I didn’t know her very well, but she was hot and we always said hi to each other. When I went to get another round, I stopped to say hi. V spotted me talking to this other girl and charged at us. Once again, V took it upon herself to fix this girls’ breasts.

I never did find out what her name was. After that night she never said hi to me again. I guess V may have done that on purpose, both claiming me and putting the other girl down at the same time. Hot girls are so vicious to each other like that.

That night we had more great sex. V was flexible. My head board had handles you could hold onto, and V could get her feet under them so it was as if her feet were stuck behind her head. I loved that position, but sadly no longer have that headboard.

Everyone still likes to tell the story of Red Pants and how she fondled my friends that night. It made a great conversation piece for a while, but V was able to top it.

Drunk sex

A few days after our first date, V called me to see if I could look over her game entries. I asked her if she wanted to stop by after class and go over it. When she got to my house she was already half in the bag. She brought out the vodka again, except this time a full handle, and again drank it straight from the bottle.

I sat down and helped her through her entries. When that was over, we continued drinking together. When I got the nerve back up, I kissed her again, and again she seemed reluctant. After a few minutes I asked her upstairs to my room.

“You can’t fuck me,” She said when we got to my room, “but we can do other things.” I was already rock hard. We started kissing and taking each others clothes off. She got down to her bra and panties and then left to go to the bathroom. I sat on my bed not sure what to do with myself. I put music on to set the mood.

V came back after ten minutes, and as she entered my room I pounced on her. She bobbed and weaved like a pro boxer, and wouldn’t let me corner her. She was acting strange, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.

She was comfortable in her underwear, as was I, but it was clear she didn’t want things to progress any further. I was having trouble with that, but eventually I calmed down. She finally sat down on the bed and started talking.

I listened, but she had nothing to say. She was just rambling and trying to keep my hands off her. I took the hint and stopped groping her. Instead I grabbed the bong and packed it up for a few rips. If I wasn’t going to get laid, at least I could enjoy myself. V asked me to go downstairs and get some drinks.

When I came back, she had a small bottle of Vodka out and was drinking it. Apparently, the handle downstairs was not enough. She finished the pint and grabbed the beer I offered her. By now I could tell she was pretty drunk. It turned me off for a minute until she kissed me again. I took off her bra and her breasts fell into me. She had a perky B cup, and they fit well in my hands.

While I was enjoying her body, V started taking off my pants. It was then that I got the first real hint sex was now on the table. After she got me naked, she got up off the bed again. This time she was just walking around my room on her toes, showing off her body.

I laid back and enjoyed the show. I started to realize either this girl liked to take it slow, or she was having a mental battle with herself about whether or not to go for it.

By now, V was noticeably drunk. The pint of vodka must have started kicking in. She was talking again about nothing and using large waving hand motions to accentuate her points.

During one emotional showing, the beer flew from her hands and crashed on my floor. The bottle didn’t break, but the Guinness inside did a number on my carpet. She laughed it off while I cleaned it up.

I was getting mildly annoyed with her flirtations because of the frustration I was feeling. When she sat back on my bed she knocked over my bottle of Guinness. This time she was sorry and tried picking things up.

While she was bent over, I fell to my knees and moved in behind to start licking her. She could bend the hell out of that body, and as she was bent entirely from the waist her pussy was in a perfect position for my mouth.

After a few minutes I turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. I moved up between her legs and kept working. She had a clit ring, and I nibbled on that for a bit while I started working her with my fingers. She was enjoying it, and grabbed my hair.

“I want you in me,” she moaned, “but you have to wear a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

Success! I was about to score the hottest girl I had ever talked to. Sure it took some patience and prodding, but it was worth it. I had condoms by the bed and grabbed the first one. She put her hands behind her knees and waited for me to get ready. She was smiling at me like we were being naughty.

I can not explain how I lasted any longer than 3 seconds, but I was a champ that night. When I was about to cum I slowed down, and when she asked me to fuck her harder, I teased her first instead. I pulled out and rest my tip on her wet pussy lips until she begged me to put it back in.

There was something about the way she teased me before, that made me want this sex to last as long as possible. Plus, I didn’t know if she was going to let me do this again, so I took my sweet time and enjoyed every second.

It took a pint of vodka at least, a few beers, and great pot to get her to drop her defenses. I didn’t have it in me to keep that up. I was hoping we could be sober next time.

When we finished we laid together in a sweaty mess. She spent the night and in the morning I got up to make breakfast. I was feeling great until she came downstairs. She looked to be in a bad mood.

“Whatever happened last night won’t ever happen again.” She said to me.

My smile quickly faded.

“Why not?” I asked like a child who just got his new toy taken away.

“I don’t do that. Bye.”

And with that she walked out. I sent her an immediate text, apologizing if I did something wrong, and explaining that I really liked her. She asked if we could just be friends.

That hurt, but I agreed that of course we could. I was disappointed of course, but at least I got laid last night, and I made it memorable. That night would be remembered over and over again.


For our third meeting, but first date, I arrived at V’s house at 9:00pm, exactly when I said I would be there. Her mom opened the door and invited me in. She was also very beautiful.

You can usually tell what a girl will look like when she gets older by her mother. If she has a hot mom, she will probably be hot. If her mom is fat, chances are, she will get that way eventually too. Especially after popping out a couple kids.

V’s mom was an ex-ballerina in Russia. She quit when she had a kid, then found a husband who took them to America. She believed a woman should look as good as possible for her man at all times. V told me she often only wore a bra and panties around the house. Yum.

V’s mom accepted me into her home, introduced me to her husband, and sat me down on their couch. I was wearing my glasses and was happy about it. I look smart in those glasses, which is a good look to go for around parents. I dress business casual when I go out, and I felt like they appreciated my lack of facial tattoos. I got that impression anyway.

While it took V another hour to get ready, I spoke to her parents about MBA school, future plans, and driving safe in the city. We watched something on TV and chatted about it a little, but it became very uncomfortable. I was sure they knew I wanted to fuck their daughter.

Perhaps the uncomfortableness began when her parents started asking questions I was not prepared for.

“Where are you taking my daughter?” Easy enough, this is a breeze.
“When will you be back?” Standard faire as well.
“What will you do if she runs into trouble?” Um… what?

What kind of parents ask a question like that? What the hell was I getting into? I was in over my head and we haven’t even had our first kiss yet. I was starting to second guess the night.

Finally, Victoria came out of her room. It was worth the wait, and I would have waited longer. V had on her uniform; 4” heels, long tight pants that hugged her wonderful ass in a loving embrace, G string panties (or none since I couldn’t see any lines), fashionable top, and all the trimmings.

Per usual, everything matched exactly, but it was taken a new level up. She looked amazing, and my heart was racing. I started to feel completely under dressed, and slightly inadequate.

“Wow,” I said, drooling in front of her parents, “you look great. Are you ready to go?” I hoped she was.

“Come on.” She replied as if she was waiting for me. This girl was completely nutty, in a very fantastic way. We said our goodbyes, promised to get home safe, and were on our way.

When we got to the city I found a spot near the bar. This was lucky because V mentioned something about not walking far in those heels. I couldn’t blame her.

Before entering the bar, I prepped V by describing my friendship with the birthday girl Tricia. I was trying to make sure V would be friendly.

“Girls don’t like me,” she said, “unless they’re dykes.”

“Same for me.” I joked back. I assumed V was joking too, but she wasn’t. We walked into the bar and it felt like the record scratched to a halt. Every eye drew upon us, and I could feel hate, envy, and lust all at the same time. This must have been what it was like for her all the time. It would be weird to get used to.

Tricia saw us at the door and walked over, as she reached us all eyes were still fixed until I gave her a hug and said hello.

“Tricia, this is Victoria. Victoria, Tricia.”

“Hi, thanks for coming. Hope you have fun.” Tricia said to V.

V looked her up and down and replied, “You look good, but you could do better with nicer clothes. Wear something that shows off your breasts more; guys like that.” Her face was stone cold and completely serious.

Tricia looked shocked. I felt the same way, and when Tricia looked back at me, my mouth was dropped open. I managed a smile and started laughing. I was mostly uncomfortable, but it was also the funniest thing I ever heard one woman say to another at their first meeting.

“You will have to forgive her, she is uncomfortable in social situations.” I offered. It sounded rational to me, but V shot a look at me like how dare I make excuses for her. Tricia seemed to appreciate the levity and invited us in.

The bar was filled with game tables. You could play billiards, ping pong, foosball, or even board games. They had small tables for chess or checkers, and in the corners they had couches and bean bag chairs for lounging. It was a cool place and the atmosphere was fun.

We grabbed drinks from the bar and walked around a bit to check the place out. We finally sat at a chess table by Tricia and her group. Tricia introduced us to her friends and I made small conversation while V sat quiet. I noticed everyone stealing guilty glances at her, and it made me feel proud for bringing the hottest girl to the bar. Both guys and girls were jealous, it was fun.

We stayed for a couple hours and eventually we both loosened up and had fun. We played foosball, then pool, and finally chess. She knew how to play, but I won. She may have let me win though, because I know I am not good. Either that or she was awful. I prefer to think she was being nice.

As we left the bar and said our good byes, Tricia pulled me aside.

“You can’t be serious about her.” She slurred. “Where did you even find her?”
“Same place I found you Tricia, we met at school.” I smiled back.
“Well, send that one back Matt, she is nuts.”
“Thanks for the warning Tricia, but you know I like crazy. And she is smoking hot. I want to see where this goes.” I said confidently.
“OK, but don’t get too attached, she will tear your heart out.” Tricia said like a concerned sister.

“Thanks. Happy Birthday Trish, it was good to see you. Let’s talk next week, and I’ll let you know how it goes.” We used to talk about our escapades during work. I think she always had a thing for me, but nothing ever came of it, so we were good friends.

As we walked back to my car, I saw that I got a ticket. I was pissed but tried to play it off like no big deal. I opened the car door for V, and walked around the back. She leaned over and unlocked my door for me. “Huh, she’s a keeper.” I said to myself.

I always liked that trick from “A Bronx Tale.” Make sure your doors are locked, and open the door for your date. After you close her in, you walk around the back and look in to see if she leans over to unlock your door for you. If she does, she is a keeper. If not, she’s a self absorbed bitch, and you need to ditch her.

New cars pretty much ruin that game now, but some girls will go even farther and try to help push your door open for you. If you see that, you know she is a giver and you are in for a good time.

I started the car up and tried to get my nerve up at the same time. I wanted to kiss her, but I was nervous.

“Well, what did you think? Did you have fun?” I asked.

“Yeah, I liked that bar, it was cool. Your friend was nice, but she has a crush on you. You shouldn’t lead her on.”

“Ha! Yeah, I know. We have been friends for a while but I told her I wasn’t interested in her.” Now I was going to go for a teaser, “Actually, I kind of have a thing for you.” I said and held my breath. I wasn’t sure what response I wanted, a blush, or a smile maybe.

“Yeah, I know. You aren’t very subtle, but you still can’t fuck me you know.”

Ouch, shot down. I laughed it off and agreed with her.

“Well I had fun anyway.” I said jokingly. Now I decided there was nothing to lose, so I tested the waters a bit more. “And even though I can’t fuck you I still want to kiss you.”

Now I saw the blush. I bent over and leaned in to kiss her. She put her head down in a brush off attempt. I pulled back. My heart was racing and I felt like crying at the same time. This was a definite shoot down, so I put the car in reverse to start trying to get out of the spot.

“OK.” She said under her breath.
“OK what?” I asked.

“You aren’t supposed to ask to kiss me, you are just supposed to do it.” This was a mixed signal. I was pretty sure I did just try to kiss her and she headbutt me off her.

I leaned back over, and moved in about 80% of the way. I learned this from “Hitch” with Will Smith. She was not coming the rest of the 20% so I moved her chin towards me with my hand and went in for the kiss. She kissed back and we locked in for a minute. It was a very passionate kiss.

During the kiss I must have forgot about my foot on the break, because the next thing I know I hit the car behind me. We bumped foreheads.

“Woops! Wow, sorry.” My face turned red.

Now she was laughing at me while I threw the car in drive and hopped out of the spot before anyone else saw me hitting the car. We drove quickly away and let the moment sit in awkwardness for a minute. Finally, V started laughing again.

“You hit that car.” She said to me.
“I got carried away kissing you. I really liked that kiss. It was hot.”
“Yes it was, you are cute.”
“So are you.” I turned to look longingly at her.

We held hands for the drive back to her house. When we arrived I put the car in a proper park and turned off my lights. We were making small talk and I waited until she was done before leaning in to kiss her again. Again, we had a very passionate kiss, and let it stay at that.

“Don’t walk me to my door.” She said as she opened my door to get out. I started to fumble with my belt and open my door.

“No, seriously, just go.” She closed my door and walked away. I watched her inside, and left. I sent her a text when I got home about how much fun I had and how I hoped to see her again soon. She never replied.

Sex Sells

I got home that Sunday at 2, and was relieved to see V was not yet there. This gave me time to take a quick shower. When she finally showed up it was 4:00, and she offered no apology. When I opened the door she barged right in. She blew past me with a casual “Hi,” but without looking at me.

She made a straight line for the living room and commandeered the middle seat of my couch. She began opening her bag like she was in a real hurry.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered. “I have water, OJ, milk, purple stuff, Sunny D…..” This was a joke I liked to make. It was a line from a lame commercial in the 90s. I used it gauge personalities. If someone laughed, they watched the same TV that I did, and we would get along just fine. If they don’t know what I am talking about, it could be a long day. V had no clue.

“Do you have beer?” She asked. I thought that this was a girl I could get into. “I need a chaser.” I was now confused, until I brought the beers into the living room. She had taken a handle of vodka out of her bag and placed it on the coffee table next to her laptop.

She deftly spun the cap off with one hand, and grabbed her gum out of her mouth with the other. She used the first hand to grab the neck of the 1.75 Liter plastic bottle of Stolichnaya and took a swig. The bottle was only half full.

I placed the beer next to her bottle, and she quickly took it back up and chased her shot.

“Wow.” I didn’t know what else to say. I certainly never thought I would be seeing this. She was no longer dressed to the 9s, but she still looked amazing even dressed down in jeans and a blouse. I doubted that she ever wore sweatpants.

She appeared totally sober, but she was now pounding the beer I gave her after chasing shot after shot. I was awestruck.

Her beer was empty before I took my first sip. “Can I get you another one of those?”

“No, I can’t get drunk tonight. I can only stay for a little bit anyway.” She looked at me seriously.

“Right. OK, well shall we get started?” I pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. Just about everyone who stops by brings their own handle of vodka and drinks 4 shots before getting comfortable. It was totally normal.

V paid no attention to me, she was looking at the bong on my table.

“Is that yours?” She asked, now smiling.
“Yeah, wanna take a hit?”

Jackpot! We took turns ripping a few hits and she was a pro. My bong is only a foot tall but it packs a wallop. To the uninitiated, it can cause severe coughing and literally take your breath away. For V, it was no problem. This was the girl for me.

Once we were sufficiently relaxed we talked about the game. I went in depth about the strategy and principles, and she asked poignant questions.

I had no doubt she was smart, but she missed a lot at the same time. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the issue, but I let it slide because she was so attractive. She also kept telling me how smart I was, and my ego was enjoying the praise. After a while we began to wrap it up.

“Well V, I think that’s it. Your week is set, you have your strategy down, and you have your presentation points for your team. So, what do you think?” I asked, very proud of myself.

“Thanks for the help, really. I would have failed without you. I owe you big time.” She said, and I took that as an invitation.

“You are welcome. Hey, a friend of mine is having a birthday party in the city next weekend. It’s at some bar she knows, and it should be a good time. Would you like to go with me?”

I had just broken every protocol possible. I had a student over to my house, I gave her alcohol and drugs, and I asked her out on a date. If I was a proper teacher, I would no doubt be fired. While I seemed to care earlier, after spending the afternoon with her, propriety no longer matter to me. I really liked her, and I was definitely intrigued to learn more.

“You can’t fuck me.” She stared cold in my eyes. She was dead serious, and I was shocked. How do you respond to that? I laughed once really hard. It was a nervous laugh, but I tried to pull it off like sex wasn’t on my mind.

“Of course. I just thought it would be fun, and I don’t have anyone to go with, but I understand it might be out of line for me to ask. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” I apologized.

“What time do you want to go?” She asked, still with the cold eyes.
“I don’t know, I thought I would leave around 9:00ish”
“Fine, but you can’t fuck me.”

I laughed again. This time I was more convincing as it struck me as hilarious she could be that blunt.

“OK. Would you like to meet here, or should I pick you up?”
“You can pick me up.” She said.

We finished chatting and packed up our stuff. She put the handle of vodka back in her purse, along with her laptop, and got up to leave. I asked her to let me know how they did that week, and assured her that although they might be in last place at first, the key to winning was to stick to the strategy.

We messaged each other throughout the week. She had a good sense of humor as long as I pretended everything she said was very sarcastic and not horrible. I was more than willing to keep up that ruse.

Breakup Sex

On Sunday morning Christie called me. It had been a few weeks now, but she wanted to talk, and I still had some clothes at her house. I guess I brought some clothes back after taking them home the last time we broke up. I would have left them there, but I also had a bowl there, and I wanted that back.

It was a nice day so I decided to ride my motorcycle up there, which was about an hour away. I left at 10, thinking I would be back by 1 at the latest.

When I got to Christie’s house she was laying on her couch. She was hungover from the night before, and she was crying. Normally I would be excited by that, but this time she smelled like throw up and cigarettes so I was not. We sat and talked for a while and she asked me to wait while she took a shower. When she got out of the shower she asked me to come back to her room with her so I could help with her sweaters.

She had already moved my clothes out of her drawer and she wanted to fill the void with her sweaters. They were all on the top shelf of her closet, which she was too short to reach, so she asked me to help. I obliged and she dropped her towel.

I moved closer to her, already completely turned on. She had a really nice body for such a tiny girl. She went straight for my belt and unclasped it. I just stood there while she unbuttoned my pants and unzipped the jeans she bought for me. I guess she was happy to see I was wearing them. I figured I would at least try them on once for her while I was seeing her again. I still think we fucked that day because of those jeans. I wear them much more often now.

Christie pulled me on top of her and started unbuttoning my shirt. I helped her out and took both shirt and tee off in one swift motion. I am good at getting naked. Almost as soon as she slipped me inside her, I came.

It had been a long time since we slept together last. Normally, I would have worked one out before I went to see her, so this type of thing didn’t happen. However, I really wasn’t expecting to get laid that day, plus I wanted to jerk off when I got home just in case V was down.

Even though I came, I pretended I didn’t. It hardly mattered with Christie, she liked me to just stay inside and work her clit with my pelvis anyway, so I tried that. After a little while, probably 30 seconds or so, my hard on started wearing off.

I continued pushing up against her, hoping she didn’t notice, but she did. She rolled me off her and ran to the bathroom where I heard sounds of throwing up. It seemed like a good time to get up and get dressed.

When she returned from the bathroom she apologized. I returned the apology. It was the worst breakup sex I ever had, and I wasn’t pleased with my performance. That is not the way I wanted to be remembered.

I threw my few clothes and bowl in the backpack I brought with me and looked ready to leave. Christie started to cry again, but this time I was not in the mood to console. It was almost 1:00 and I still had a 1 hour drive. I didn’t take V as the type to wait. She probably would be late anyway, but just in case I gave Christie a hug and said goodbye. I had nothing left for her.

A few weeks later I gave Christie a call to say Hi. She didn’t answer. I sent a few texts and made a few more calls in the following weeks but never heard back. After not hearing anything, I started e-mailing her. I was trying to be friendly, to stay in touch I guess. I was interested in how the business was going and all that. Finally, she sent me a message back in October.

“Matt, I received your messages and texts. Please leave me alone and never call again. Christie”

Ouch. Was I that bad? I thought we could still be friendly to each other at least, but I guess not. As I look back on all my foibles, I had been super jealous a few times with her, and I know she didn’t like that. She hated the “I love you” snub of course, and I guess not wanting to meet her Aunt and Uncle in NYC was the final straw.

How could I be blamed for not wanting to go to the city to have lunch with her Aunt and Uncle? It was football season, and she had the guts to ask me to do that on a Sunday! I wasn’t a huge football fan, but still, the principle of it all.

There were good times as well, and I did a lot for her when things were going well, but still Christie and I never spoke again. Johnny said he saw her a few years later and told me that she got fat. I was happy to hear that.