I've been dating a girl for the last month or so and as it turned out she was a virgin. So when we get to doing dirty things she was a bit nervous and we had to work our way up to full-blown sex over the course of a week or two because she had trouble relaxing and had zero experience having anything up there beyond a tampon. So last night was the night she decided she was comfortable enough to actually try to go the full way. We had her laptop playing some UFC thing to mask the noise since her room mates were through the wall. A lot of gentle testing and a ton of lube later, things seem to be working and it is in this rather intimate moment where we are looking into each others' eyes during her very first time that one of the guys on the ultimate fighting thing starts screaming repeatedly "HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT IT. HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT IT. TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT IT!"
Long ago I had a massive, MASSIVE girlboner for a guy. Said guy also had a boner for me, but the timing was never right -- girlfriends, boyfriends, periods of being out of touch and so forth, and in the meantime we quietly pined after each other and enjoyed the kind of insane chemistry that feels like a mild hallucinogen. This went on for three goddamn years. I lusted after him desperately, and I knew it was mutual; we had a couple of drunken (but chaste) confessional sessions that lived in the spank bank for months. Torture.
But we're honorable people and so we never touched each other when it was impolitic even though we very much wanted to. And finally -- FINALLY -- I got a phone call. "I just dumped my girlfriend. I hear you just dumped your boyfriend. Wanna come over?"
So I did, and we drank about half of a box of Franzia table white because we were both really nervous. Now, I am very good at doing it. Girls I know who have done it with this guy have vowed that he is also very good at doing it. We were... not good at doing it with each other. I can now say with full conviction that "wait... hang on a second" is the least sexy phrase imaginable, in the context of actual sex. We made a feeble, flailing attempt at fucking for what felt like hours; we tried it in the bed, on the couch, in the shower, with me stuck halfway out the window, everywhere and in every configuration we could come up with and it still just. didn't. work. I remember saying "Dude, you're on my hair" like six times. It was the absolute worst of awkward, disappointing adolescent groping, except we were grown-ass adults at that point and knew better, and it was just dreadful.
Finally, he looked deep in my eyes and said, "I love you." I said, "I love you too." He said, "Fuck this. Let's watch Robocop." I had never seen Robocop, a fact that had emerged during the earlier Franzia-fueled conversation. So we snuggled and watched Robocop on shitty VHS, and we really should have done that in the first place and skipped the horrible-awkward-attempted-boning part. We are very good friends now.
So I'm in my apartment fooling around with a girl on my couch. Shirts come up, pants go down, and we're having a good time. She's on top of me, and I notice her swatting at her arm. I ask her what she's doing, and she yells that there's something wrong with my couch. She then jumps off of me, screams, and runs into the bathroom.
Turns out my roommate left a bag of Funyuns under a couch cushion, and a colony of ants came for a visit. Hungry ants that thought people tasted better than Funyun. Night ended with me dousing a naked girl in rubbing alcohol, then driving her home.
I was dating... well, more like hooking up with this girl recently. There wasn't very much physical chemistry, but we were both giving it a shot, and it's the effort that counts, right?
The first time we hooked up things were going nicely and we were having fun, but I just had the feeling that there was no way I was going to finish. I just wasn't all that into her, I dunno. But I was able to go at it like a champ.
Maybe 15-20 minutes into this it really starts becoming clear that neither of us are going to actually orgasm, so we laugh about it and agree to keep going a little longer just for the hell of it.
So I get her into position kind of on her side at the edge of the bed with me standing up and have a funny thought, mostly inspired by this very thread which I've been reading for a few months now. I spread my arms wide and exclaim "I'm king of the world!" mid-thrust. She starts laughing, I start laughing, and we both collapse in a sweaty heap on the bed. That was pretty much the end of that session.
And that's pretty much the end of this session! But we'll let guitar-strumming Goon Harvey Mantaco put this theme to bed with his musical adaptations of some grotesque and/or embarrassing stories that didn't make the Goldmines:
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
The Comedy Goldmine examines the funniest and most creative threads from the Something Awful Forums. Although the Comedy Goldmine has changed authors many times over the years, its focus on the Something Awful Forums is still the same. Includes hilarious Photoshops, amusing work stories, parodies, and other types of oddball humor.