DISCLAIMER: This post may or may not be based on true events, but the purpose is purely to entertain. Enjoy!
Over £1000 spent in 3 days on just dinner. The painment. Boys are not smiling.
4 days ago, I bumped into this ex model at Westfield Shepherd’s Bush, summary; we exchanged pins and numbers, called her the next day we talked, agreed to meet for dinner, Le Gavroche at 8pm.
A French restaurant in Mayfair, Dinner was good, had few drinks and I called a cab to take her home, we had dinner two more nights and I felt this was my defining moment. Anything French had a hint of romance in it; the scenery of the restaurant had a good vibe to it. On the third night of our date, I called a cab for her, and just when she was about to leave, she invited me to her place for a nightcap. Every thirsty man knows what a nightcap means, that short window you have to prove to her why she needs to sleep with you and not regret it in the morning. We get to her house, she offered me chocolate beverage while handing me a photo album, and time for story telling. I became weak, like what is going on? Few minutes into family history, we started kissing, and then someone’s phone rings out. What sort of sorcery is this, earlier on, i had taken out my battery of my phones in the cab because of this moment, no distractions. How come this little mini cock teaser left her phone on, we tried to ignore it but the person calling wanted to make sure I was not going to get lucky tonight. She finally decided to take the call, the caller was an ex, but of course how come I didn’t see this happening. The feeling was too good to be true. The conversation got intense; a lot of swear words most especially the word “shit” was over used. For some reason they seemed to be talking about her “self control”. (for the record, I strongly assumed that this hard to do with how easy she was ready to put out which ofcourse had to be some kind of miracle for me, I never realized that it was a warning sign to my downfall). She asked to be excused and went into her bedroom to continue the conversation and that was the last time I saw her, I waited for what seemed to be an hour, went to check up on her when I stopped hearing voices and found her sleeping on her bed, my brothers I was truly forgotten. I got home and made up my mind never to see her again.
Next morning decided to check my account balance and I noticed what I spent on dinner in 3 days. I was about to drown myself with a bottle of whiskey to mourn, “The one that got away” when I heard my phone ring, I ignored it but she kept on calling. I played it cool and picked up, she said she wanted to apologize in person, she needed to see me so I made my way to her house, this time I was not even interested in her poon box, she buzzed me in, I got into the living room, saw her on the couch, carefully positioning her assets. Boobs, ass and hips. From apologizing to kissing me and saying rotten rubbish in my ears, I lost my moral value, we ended up Butt naked, as a real G, I strapped up. This was going to be a bumpy ride. She volunteered out of the kindness of her heart to ride me, so I let her, it got a bit intense and I was just enjoying the moment when I perceived a foul stench, I ignored it because of her beautiful face, I am man full of compassion but the odor grew stronger every passing minute, she noticed too. I figured she farted but I didn’t care. This time, everything on southside lane, her thighs, and my groin area was moist, my hand smeared in what I believed was poon box juice, and she stopped riding me. Chilled for a bit and then got off my dick, while standing over me walked to my face and she decided it was in my best interest to face sit on me, as she attempted to squat, a gush of gooey smelly substance escaped out of her crotch area and was sprayed unevenly on my chest and neck. Fuck, the odor. She practically took a dump on me. I lay there like a dead man, lifeless. My body still in shock, I screamed like a girl. Oh no, this is not happening. No obo is worth this kind of fuckery. While attempting to wipe it off with my hand like that was going to help, I discovered more liquid shit residue on my hands. She decided to rush to the bathroom, in her attempt to do that, she sprayed her white Egyptian rug with chocolate goodness. You could see the trail, the road that leads to “el do rado”. Then it came to me like an epiphany, they over used the word “shit” a lot, and they talked about her not having “self control”. I should have been smart enough to figure this out. She apologized and told me about her IBS (IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME).
Suffice to say we went our separate ways and never spoke to each other again but this is what really hurt me, I spent over 1G on a girl to take a dump on me. I am not that kinky! If I wanted shit to be smeared on me so bad, since I am not lactose tolerant, I would buy “cravendale milk” from tesco £1.90, drink it, wait for it to kick in, poo on my hand and then rub it on my chest and neck. Saving a lot of ££.
Moral of the story, before having sex, always ask about their shit history. If they suffer from diarrhea or IBS, approach with caution. And strongly advise they take a long dump before sex, in most cases administer to your date 2 tabs of tetracycline, 1 tab of buscopan and 1 tab of flagyl one hour before sex.