Tossing a girls salad

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My stomach dropped as I willed myself to move forward. I repeated this mantra over and over in my head as I gazed around the room, praying for anything to stop this. A meteor. The end of the world. But no. Here was I was, eye to eye, for lack of a better phrase, with what was surely tossing a girls salad to be the worst moment of my twenty-two years. I was doing the thing girls never have to do. I was going there — to the place you swore you would never go and doing the thing you swore you would never ever, ever, ever do. Giving him a rib job. Licking his butt. It started how any of these situations start.

With alcohol and the topic of s-e-x. Still, for the most part, I figured it would be easy, late night romcom stuff — like calling him daddy or licking whipped cream off of his imaginary abs. How weird could anything a year-old frat guy want be? Maybe a threesomeor a little BDSM. But surely nothing really gross. So when he invited me over at 11 p. It sounded like the perfect plan to me, and I spared a smile at myself in my mirror as I slipped on an old sweatshirt and headed out the door.

As I pushed opened the heavy wooden door to his fraternity house, I was greeted with the rare sounds of silence. This was prime bar time, and skipping out on a night of drinking with his brothers must have meant he had big plans. A shiver of excitement pulsed through my body as I walked down to sticky hallway and knocked on his door. There he was.

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In those pajama pants that hung low on his abdomen and allowed a peek of his almost v muscle. His tanned chest came forward as he wrapped me up in his arms. A slow, sexy smile spread across his face as he leaned forward to tenderly put his lips on me. I fell into his kiss and allowed him to pull me back onto his shitty, full-size bed. His mouth made its way to my neck and I felt my body melt as he bit me just hard enough. This is the fucking life, I thought, as I laid back and allowed him to pull off my sweatpants. His warm breath tickled my abs okay, well the place where abs could be as he dragged his body slowly down the bed.

Alright, ready to cue up a fantasy, I thought, as he grabbed my legs and pulled me closer to his mouth. Zac Efron?

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Too pretty. John Krasinski? Eh, too nice. Mila Kunis? Hmmm, no I definitely need a dick right now.

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Maybe a Hemsworth? Just as my Chris fantasy was wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the shirt he just removed, the guy who was licking my lady parts looked up. Something new we could try. I nodded, despite my intense hatred for tequila. Whatever was on his mind was making him nervous and being drunk would probably help the both of us. I watched, hypnotized, as he poured one, two, three shots for us. And with each sip, my curiosity grew stronger as my inhibitions lowered. Maybe he was going to want to make things official between us.

He, too, put down his shot glass and turned towards me. I could see contradicting thoughts cross over his face, and I forced my own, normally bitchy features to look kind and trustworthy. At last, he let out a sigh and opened his mouth. My heart hammered. I immediately froze as the rush of tossing a girls salad he said repeated themselves over and over in my head. I remembered. How could I forget? It was the reason for our downfall and the reason I always clench my butt whenever someone so much as mentions anal.

My heart pounded as I felt my head nod up and down slowly. You know? I watched as he finally raised his head to look at me. The moment his eyes locked into mine, he realized that he would have to spell it out for me. It had come about casually, fueled by alcohol and hormones. But I know there was nothing casual about this. It was calculated. It was planned. And it was pruned. As I thought through my options, I realized I had three choices:.

Say no, let it be awkward, and most likely end this almost-relationship.

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Say no and GTFO of there. Say yes. Trying new things? Making sacrifices? The tequila swam inside my mind tossing a girls salad I felt my head nod up and down. What was I doing? But it was too late. Before I realized it, my mouth was opening and I was answering.

A smile spread over his face. He leaned forward and kissed me, and I said the only thing I could think of. So there I was, sitting in his bed, listening to him singing in his shower and cleaning his asshole. How did I get myself into this position? You love him, a voice in the back of my head whispered. Yeah, but at what cost? How bad could it be? I sat there in a daze, willing myself not to throw up tequila plus thoughts of a rim job do not mix.

I kept saying motivational phrases to myself. And then, finally, he came out of the shower with a towel hung low on his hips. I guess like, in doggy? And then, before my very eyes, the guy I loved removed the towel from his body, crawled on his hands and knees, and revealed one very hairy, very manly ass. I looked at it with a kind of twisted fascination. What do I do? Just like, stick my tongue out?

I started to lean forward and immediately backed up again. There is NO way, I thought, as I tried, yet again, to avoid eye contact with his ass. I saw him quivering, waiting for me to make my move.

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This is it, I willed myself, repeating my mantra over and over. He has to marry me after this. Or at least go down on me until I fucking finish. I took one giant breath like I was going under water and started moving in again. I felt my face connect with skin, and I knew I had to be close.

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I stuck my tongue out, and it immediately made contact with something hairy. This is…normal, the tequila lied as I moved my tongue around in slow, sad circles. I hear a moan escape from his mouth, and at that moment I snapped out of it.

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I removed my head from his ass cheeks and sit back on my heels. I shoved my feet into my shoes and raced down the hall, avoiding eye contact with the brothers who were slowly trickling in from the bar. I got in the elevator to my apartment and looked at my phone. Three missed calls and a text. I stood in the elevator, transfixed. Like ever. There are a few things that are sacred. A few things that are special. Giving someone a rim job is one of those things. I felt a smile tickle my lips as I texted back:.

Image via Shutterstock. I mean. Sort of. I just want to drink a little. Want a shot? As I thought through my options, I realized I had three choices: 1. No, no, no, no, no. He bounced over to the bed and perched on the edge. What happened? Image via Shutterstock Nice Move this to a friend.

Tossing a girls salad

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The Horrifying Story Of The Time I Tossed A Guy’s Salad