I distinctly remember Gary Coleman's "Say no. Then go. And tell." campaign. I remember that incredibly disturbing episode of "Different Strokes" where the bicycle store guy asked Gary's friend to take his shirt off. I remember "No means no." But at no point in either my exposure to pop culture or my sex ed classes did anyone ever explain to me what one should say when they wake up with their dick in the mouth of someone unexpected.
Had the cock been in the other mouth, so to speak, I could have done the whole biting thing. But, as it was, I was unprepared. I can't knee him in the jaw because then he is gonna bite down, and I certainly don't want that They really should hand out pamphlets about situations like this in Boy Scout camp. Hmmm. Maybe a video or DVD directed at the escort and prospective altar boy markets. Not having any of the resources at my disposal, I was forced to take the completely lame "What are you doing?" approach.
Ernie took my dick out of his mouth, and gave me the velociraptor look. The fucker was infringing on all my copyrights. "You've never had a blowjob before?"
Touché rapist. Hmmm...Velocirapist? "I mean, why are you in my room giving me a blowjob?"
"I thought you wanted it." I checked to see if I was wearing a short skirt and acting in a Lifetime Television for Victims movie. I was not.
I sat up so that the closest thing to suck on was my toes, and prayed he wasn't a foot fetishist. "No. What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you're gay right?"
"Yea." I'm also a Democrat but I don't want anybody voting for me while I'm asleep. "But, I'm -- I thought you were straight."
He flashed me the stupid Guy Who Just Bought Me A Drink And Thinks I Now Owe Him Keys To My Apartment smile. "I'm up for a little experimentation. I've never sucked a cock before." This was glaringly obvious. "But I like you. And you know, you said that thing about getting me high and taking advantage of me."
"That was a joke."
He stood up at the end of my quasi-bed (I was sleeping on a glorified futon on a not so glorified frame), his rock hard cock pointing at me accusingly. What it was accusing me of, I wasn't sure. I wasn't the one who should have been apologizing.
"Look," I said, "If you wanted to fool around you should have talked to me about it. You can't just go around wrapping your mouth around random gay guys' cocks. This isn't a rest stop bathroom." Crickets chirped. Tumbleweeds rolled across my floor. In the distance, a truck passed. As the doppler effect faded into the hum of the heating system, I waited for him to apologize. If not for violating my trust and personal space, then for the horrible way his teeth grazed against my cock, the way his stubble chafed my inner thigh.
original post: http://community.livejournal.com/bad_sex/766517.html
Had the cock been in the other mouth, so to speak, I could have done the whole biting thing. But, as it was, I was unprepared. I can't knee him in the jaw because then he is gonna bite down, and I certainly don't want that They really should hand out pamphlets about situations like this in Boy Scout camp. Hmmm. Maybe a video or DVD directed at the escort and prospective altar boy markets. Not having any of the resources at my disposal, I was forced to take the completely lame "What are you doing?" approach.
Ernie took my dick out of his mouth, and gave me the velociraptor look. The fucker was infringing on all my copyrights. "You've never had a blowjob before?"
Touché rapist. Hmmm...Velocirapist? "I mean, why are you in my room giving me a blowjob?"
"I thought you wanted it." I checked to see if I was wearing a short skirt and acting in a Lifetime Television for Victims movie. I was not.
I sat up so that the closest thing to suck on was my toes, and prayed he wasn't a foot fetishist. "No. What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you're gay right?"
"Yea." I'm also a Democrat but I don't want anybody voting for me while I'm asleep. "But, I'm -- I thought you were straight."
He flashed me the stupid Guy Who Just Bought Me A Drink And Thinks I Now Owe Him Keys To My Apartm
"That was a joke."
He stood up at the end of my quasi-bed (I was sleeping on a glorified futon on a not so glorified frame), his rock hard cock pointing at me accusingly. What it was accusing me of, I wasn't sure. I wasn't the one who should have been apologizing.
"Look," I said, "If you wanted to fool around you should have talked to me about it. You can't just go around wrapping your mouth around random gay guys' cocks. This isn't a rest stop bathroom." Crickets chirped. Tumbleweeds rolled across my floor. In the distance, a truck passed. As the doppler effect faded into the hum of the heating system, I waited for him to apologize. If not for violating my trust and personal space, then for the horrible way his teeth grazed against my cock, the way his stubble chafed my inner thigh.
original post: http://community.livejournal.com/bad_sex/766517.html
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