Esther Greenwood

Posts Tagged ‘blow jobs’

Sex Horror Stories, Part One

In Uncategorized on September 22, 2009 at 3:18 am

So, it’s been awhile.  I apologize.  To make up for it, I am going to share a funny true sex story shared with me by a med student acquaintance years ago.

My friend Josh was working as an intern at a hospital in New York.  Once, while working the late shift, a man and woman came in.  The woman had severe burns and the man was in extreme pain.  This was their story:

The man and woman, we’ll call them Claude and Claudette, decided to get high one night.  They got stoned, and started having such a good, relaxing time they decided getting naked could only add to the fun.  So they hung about the apartment butt-naked.  Joy.  Claude, as some stoned folk do, got hungry.  He decided to make himself some pancakes.  So he went into the kitchen and started flipping some flapjacks– still naked.

Well, nothing says sexy to a woman like a man who can cook.  Claudette felt herself getting a little horny, and decided in her stoned glory it was a good idea to go down on Claude while he was standing, flipping those flapjacks.  So she started giving him oral, and Claude got so into it he lost control of his pan and dropped it on Claudette’s fragile head.  Well, that pan was hot, dammit, and covered in hot pancake mix.  Claudette went into shock and bit down on Claude’s manparts.  This, of course, hurt like a bitch.  Claude, panicked, trying to get Claudette off of him, started beating Claudette over the head repeatedly with the burning pan. Both ended up in the hospital.

I can’t remember how they turned out, other than okay/alive.  Josh and I have lost touch and he hasn’t returned my text, so I can’t relieve your fears.  But there’s a funny story for you all!  The moral– carbs really are the enemy.

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Head of the Class

In Uncategorized on August 12, 2009 at 3:19 am

“Would she go down on you in a theater?”

– Alanis Morissette

Yesterday I was sitting outside my favorite coffee shop reading Dave Eggers’ latest when a man in a polo-shirt sat down next to me and stuck out his hand.

“I’m Paul,” he said.  “You look like you give good head.”

This line (if you can call something so brazen that) shocked me for a variety of reasons.  First of all, I was in Gramercy.  If I wanted some guy to say crude nothings to me I would have dressed like a skank and headed to some frat bar by NYU.  People raised families and millions in Gramercy, they didn’t raise innuendos.  Especially at a yuppee coffee shop with excellent chai.

This was the other thing: I was at a coffee shop.  Did this man honestly think that coming up to a woman at a coffee shop, a woman dressed in a pastel floral dress reading a hipster novel, would respond favorably to something so … unnerving?

And that, of course, begs the question– what exactly about my appearance screamed “Blow Job Expert”?

Yet, what shocked me the most was my reaction to Paul’s comment:

“Uh, thanks?” I mumbled, looking down at my lap.  I couldn’t believe it– was I actually blushing?  I briefly wondered how to elegantly retreat from this very uncomfortable situation.

Paul did not move.  His hand was still awkwardly sticking out.  I was afraid to touch it.  Who knew where it had been.

Actually, I had a pretty good idea.

“Well?” Paul asked.  A bit of iced latte dripped from my chai’s straw.

“I have a boyfriend.”  That seemed the best, and most honest, way to get this creep out of my space.

It worked.  Paul stood up and nodded, leering down at me.  I was pretty sure we both knew what he was thinking.  Now, finally, I was indignant.  It was one thing for this preppy freak to pervert me, but to pervert my beau?  Fuck off.

Paul must have seen something in my face because he made a quick getaway down Irving Place.  From the other side of the coffee shop’s door, a soft female voice spoke up, “Did that just happen?”

I looked towards the woman whose own shocked expression matched my own.  Simultaneosly, we burst into laughter.

***

The above is a true story.  I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking over the situation.  Other than the man’s basic crassness in his attempt to flirt, why had he so thrown me off my game?  Usually I was incredibly suave at getting myself out of compromising and uncomfortable situations.  Instead, this time I had some serious deer-in-headlights syndrome.

I believe now it’s because this guy broke The Rules.  We are all well aware of The Rules.  Originally a book written in the 1950s for our parents, The Rules were a guide for women on how to conduct themselves during a courtship.  Never accept a date for the weekend if he asks past Wednesday.  Never have sex.  That kind of fun.

While The Rules have definitely changed since our parents were dating, there is definitely still an etiquette involved in dating.  There’s the rule about how soon you can call a girl after getting her number.  How soon you do or do not make jokes about taking trips together.  Women know better than to ever even make a joke about their friend’s friend’s second cousin’s upcoming marriage for fear that the guy will think they’re hinting.  And when it comes to dropping the “L-word,” yeah.

Of course, mastering this etiquette takes time.

A male friend of mine recently became entangled with a young woman of twenty.  She of course committed the very common rookie mistake of falling too quickly too fast and, even more inappropriately and naively, has repeatedly stated her very intense declarations of adoration to my friend.

Now, we’ve all been there.  At the beginning of the courtship before you really get to know your paramour (and they’re still projecting their best selves) they of course seem perfect.  But we learn after a few heartaches not to trust our intense and irrational infatuation and, most importantly, not to scare the guy by sharing the crazy.

Yes, it sucks.  We all want someone we can “be ourself” with.  But I think before we get there, before we can be ourself and snore and maybe admit that we don’t like disco as much as we claimed to, we have to first follow the rules and act accordingly.  We have to not freak the other person out with our neediness and basic humanness.  Dumping such intense realities on a person in a very quick amount of time is scary for both people involved.  Take time to get to know each other.

I guess there are do’s and dont’s for both the sexes.  Don’t come on too strongly.  Don’t say every thing that comes in to your mind, even if it’s true.