...drunk at a party at my brother's place when I was 17. Started going shot for shot with a woman who was (unbeknownst to me) very, very angry with her boyfriend. We wandered off together at her behest, destroyed a little property and wound up fucking in a park at around 2 in the morning.
It was actually pretty awful. We were both horribly drunk, we both smelled awful... and the girl, while quite conventionally attractive in a tall, skinny blonde with fake breasts kinda way, was quite frankly an out-of-shape proverbial hallway to my proverbial hotdog.
...after getting back to my brother's place, I wound up driving her and her boyfriend home. He was passed out drunk, she was still stupid, rowdy drunk... and I was just drunk but coming down. I did that a lot that year (drinking and driving, that is)... thankfully I was lucky every time. No collisions.
The second time was much, much better... and I was visiting a place half a state away. Also, we were only a bit buzzed on mixed drinks rather than completely sloshed on shots... and the girl was in great shape, which always helps. A lot.
Beyond the first couple of times I got much, much better at it, of course. It's been fourteen years of flip-flopping between winning and losing streaks since then, after all (currently on a losing streak. Go figure).
...
TheGreatKlaid said:
It was our third anniversary, we decided after a lot of talk we were ready. Still together. Nothing special.
The irony of that statement coming from someone with an avatar featuring Edgar Figaro blew me the fuck away.