I'll rattle off three.
1. See the Original Post. I had virtually the same encounter with a female during a hotel party. Hilariously, her boyfriend had to go home (Different state) for the weekend, and he asked me specifically to look out of her, because he knew she was a lush, and that I was one of the few people he could trust not to fuck her. I got a two bed room for just this scenario, and the crazy lady just kept following me. I'd get in bed, nod off, then wake up with her hand around my junk and her biting my neck. I'd maneuver out, go outside for a smoke, come back in when I thought she had gone to sleep, and switch to the other bed. Rinse and repeat for 2 hours, before I gave up and just stayed up all night on the balcony, smoking two packs of cigarettes while I waited for sunrise.
8 years later, and many similar events afterwards, I can safely say that there is now no (consensual) sexual act on this earth that can make me flinch. And I'm not sure that's a good thing.
1. See the Original Post. I had virtually the same encounter with a female during a hotel party. Hilariously, her boyfriend had to go home (Different state) for the weekend, and he asked me specifically to look out of her, because he knew she was a lush, and that I was one of the few people he could trust not to fuck her. I got a two bed room for just this scenario, and the crazy lady just kept following me. I'd get in bed, nod off, then wake up with her hand around my junk and her biting my neck. I'd maneuver out, go outside for a smoke, come back in when I thought she had gone to sleep, and switch to the other bed. Rinse and repeat for 2 hours, before I gave up and just stayed up all night on the balcony, smoking two packs of cigarettes while I waited for sunrise.
2. I was in the cafeteria in Iraq, minding my own business, when two females from our supply section sat down to eat with me. Its all good. I could use some female interaction.
And then they start talking about masturbating.
I spent 45 minutes staring at my plate, completely unable to escape the fact that I had two females chatting intensely about ruffling the meat curtains. They just went on and on. I was 19 years old at the time, and pretty sexually inexperienced. I didn't even know most of the things they talked about existed. I found out about the dozens of different types of dildos, which ones you used for what, clit clamps, eggs, lube, heating oil, how long, how often, how one of them would sometimes come into work with some of that stuff in/on them, preferred sizes, rotating mechanism, vibrating mechanisms, beads, straps... it just went on and on. By the time they finished, I could have written a 200 page book on the subject. It was terrifying.
And then they looked at me and asked me how I masturbated.
I must have turned as red as a fire engine at the point. They spent the next 20 minutes bombarding me with questions, and all I could say was 'I'm a guy. You just kind of grab it yank it, and go to sleep.' 20 minutes of grilling that would have made the inquisition feel bad for me. And at the end of it, they got kind of mad at me, declared that is was bullshit that it was so easy for guys, and left me there, sobbing into my cold pizza.
3. In Iraq, on night shift. Our shop was in charge of distributing batteries. A female sergeant came up to me and asked for some C batteries. I rooted around, and pulled some out, at which point she said she was mistaken, and needed Ds. I pulled out a pack of 4 and gave them to her. She said she needed more then that, so I pulled out another pack, and made some smart ass remark about what a big ass flashlight she must have. She remarked back that it wasn't for a flashlight. Curious, I asked what it was for, and she responded that it was close to a flashlight, if I caught her drift. Then she gave me a sly smile. And I realized what she need 8 D cell batteries for.
My face lit up like a thousand suns, and I slammed my forehead into my desk so hard my laptop jumped up. She patted my on the head and said 'It alright. I know I spoil myself,' and left.
I sat there in that pose, face down, cherry red, for what seemed like an eternity. And then I heard her walk back in, and say (Exact wording here).
'Almost forgot, I need some triple As for the one that goes in my ass.'
I threw two backs of 20 at her without looking up and started dry sobbing.
And then they start talking about masturbating.
I spent 45 minutes staring at my plate, completely unable to escape the fact that I had two females chatting intensely about ruffling the meat curtains. They just went on and on. I was 19 years old at the time, and pretty sexually inexperienced. I didn't even know most of the things they talked about existed. I found out about the dozens of different types of dildos, which ones you used for what, clit clamps, eggs, lube, heating oil, how long, how often, how one of them would sometimes come into work with some of that stuff in/on them, preferred sizes, rotating mechanism, vibrating mechanisms, beads, straps... it just went on and on. By the time they finished, I could have written a 200 page book on the subject. It was terrifying.
And then they looked at me and asked me how I masturbated.
I must have turned as red as a fire engine at the point. They spent the next 20 minutes bombarding me with questions, and all I could say was 'I'm a guy. You just kind of grab it yank it, and go to sleep.' 20 minutes of grilling that would have made the inquisition feel bad for me. And at the end of it, they got kind of mad at me, declared that is was bullshit that it was so easy for guys, and left me there, sobbing into my cold pizza.
3. In Iraq, on night shift. Our shop was in charge of distributing batteries. A female sergeant came up to me and asked for some C batteries. I rooted around, and pulled some out, at which point she said she was mistaken, and needed Ds. I pulled out a pack of 4 and gave them to her. She said she needed more then that, so I pulled out another pack, and made some smart ass remark about what a big ass flashlight she must have. She remarked back that it wasn't for a flashlight. Curious, I asked what it was for, and she responded that it was close to a flashlight, if I caught her drift. Then she gave me a sly smile. And I realized what she need 8 D cell batteries for.
My face lit up like a thousand suns, and I slammed my forehead into my desk so hard my laptop jumped up. She patted my on the head and said 'It alright. I know I spoil myself,' and left.
I sat there in that pose, face down, cherry red, for what seemed like an eternity. And then I heard her walk back in, and say (Exact wording here).
'Almost forgot, I need some triple As for the one that goes in my ass.'
I threw two backs of 20 at her without looking up and started dry sobbing.
8 years later, and many similar events afterwards, I can safely say that there is now no (consensual) sexual act on this earth that can make me flinch. And I'm not sure that's a good thing.
