Okay, this one is worth a read, yes the guy is a freekin idiot, but still it's a story an anal lover can appreciate.
It makes me fondly fondly remember the instances of unexpected anal sex I've had in my life. Now thats something to make me smile a lot when I'm an old fuck and the idea of getting a sweet woman to lift up her butt for me is nothing but a distant dream.
So anyway, theres this guy, an anal ignoramus, but he meets a chick they decide to do the right away sex thing, but no condom. Oh noes, right? But she's a trooper and offers him the pooper. I hope she liked it well enough, becaus ehis big reaction is OH NOES I FUCKED A GIRL I JUST MET UP THE ASS SHE MUST BE A DISEASED SLUT AND NOW I GOT THE AIDS OR THE HEPATITIS OR AT LEAST SOME BAD COOTIES.
You can almost hear him crying from here. Big tough assfucker runs to the clinic.
What's the news? Nada. Not even cooties. She gave him her precious asshole, and all he got was an excuse to whine to the world.
Idiot. What a fuckin pussy.
So why did I find myself getting tested at the Berkeley Free Clinic a couple of Sundays ago? Rushed butt sex.
We're not talking about the butter-the-girlfriend-up-take-her-out-for-fondue-bring-her-back-home-to-boatloads-of-KY kind.
Nope. Unfortunately this is the I-don't-have-a-condom-let's-figure-out-a-way-to-make-this-work kind.
Brace yourself. What we have here is a safe-sex column, but I have a good story on tap to drive the point home.
Let me paint the picture. I head into New York City with a couple of buddies for a house party on New Year's Eve. Meet a girl who really wants a midnight kiss. I oblige her, and we eventually make our way back to her place in Jersey City.
Clothes come off. She asks me if I have a condom. I ask her if she has one. Nada on both counts.
(I've discovered that whenever I pack a condom, I don't get lucky. Kind of like how when you bring an umbrella to class and it doesn't even drizzle.)
I inquire as to the prospects of a blow job. She feels uncomfortable. I inquire as to whether or not she would like me to pleasure her. She feels uncomfortable.
At this point, it's already seven in the morning, and I'm ready to pass out and put a halt to this extended make-out session that's headed nowhere.
But wait. Out of the blue she says, "Do you want to have other sex?"
(The last time I heard the word "other" in this connotation was over the summer-a dude asked me if I wanted to watch "other" porn with him. Oy vey.)
Since I had never stuck it in the caboose and almost instantaneously experienced a flashback to a time when a friend pleaded that I do an anal sex column, I jumped at the opportunity.
