New Year's Reso-what?

Submitted by Lucky Prescott

I know I need to leave. I’m breaking my own rules by staying here for even a second after I wake up. But I don’t know how to just get up and go. It’s like my body is frozen with the fear of being rude. I watch the clock on the building across the street tick away opposite a bright blue sky that looks like summer even though it’s freezing out. I longingly stare at my black g-string on the floor by the closet, sending it telepathic messages to get up and walk its way over to me. It doesn’t.

I’d been doing well with my New Year’s resolution: 354 days and nights without a one night stand. I guess I could have held out 11 more days, but I needed some good sex before heading home to get some terrible sex from the guy I’m quasi dating. Besides, Luke was a conquest. And maybe I was a conquest for him too.

After all, this was a long time coming. We made out at a bar last year, but when he asked me to go home with him, I declined. He took my number, told me that he’d had a crush on me for a while, and then put me in a cab. This time, after talking for an hour or so at the bar, when he asked, “Do you want to get out of here?” the only logical response was “Yes.” I can’t be called a slut this time if I already refused him once before. Right?

We held hands as we walked along the Christmas tree-lined sidewalks, hopping into a cab and going to his apartment. We started on the couch and he carried me to the bed. It was great. It did the job. I actually got off. I actually had fun. And there were absolutely no strings attached.

I hear him groan a morning groan as the clock’s minute hand reaches the hour mark. I give myself a pep talk, say I’ll get up at the count of ten. I reach ten. I don’t move. He wakes up. Gives me a kiss and smiles. And I thought leaving would be awkward before?

A Night with Mr. ADD

Submitted by Luv the Ring

This particular night of my senior year of college started out like every other night: a little pre-game action, then out to the bars, & then post-game action at our favorite after-hours spot (a hole in the wall with a pool table & a jukebox that played Journey). Drunk & on the prowl, all I wanted was to throw myself at some lucky guy & take him home.

Unfortunately, there weren’t many options since girls outnumbered guys at my school, & the majority of those guys were either gay or ugly. But after 12 beers, everyone at the bar looked like Brad Pitt.

And so I settled for this guy – he might have been 5’6” & was a little pudgy, wearing a polo that was 1 size too small. He was president of his fraternity (if I can’t have the looks, why not settle for the power?). After some small talk, we took a taxi to my place.

The thing was, I forgot that I’d told my friend that she could use my bed for her own male adventures that night. So, my guy & I waited in the common area for about 30 minutes until she was done.

Once in the room, he wasted no time taking his clothes off & jumping next to me on my twin bed. I already knew that I’d made the wrong choice, but was too embarrassed to stop making out—until he whipped out his schlong & took my hand, trying to place it on his peni$. It was clear that I wanted nothing to do with it.

He hopped off the bed & paced around my 200 sq foot room, completely naked, his hand on his forehead, his head down, for at least 15 minutes, all the while mumbling about what he should have done, how this always happens, & how he just wanted to have sex already. It was humorous, fascinating, & tiring watching him, but I tried making him feel better with the classic “its not you, its me…im just tired” BS. Finally, he sat down & admitted that he forgot to take his ADD medication.

At that point, I kindly escorted him out.

The Skinny on Getting a Cab

Submitted by Lucky Prescott

I’m ready to go home. My friend’s birthday party, with its crazily-priced drinks, people stumbling into me on the way-too-packed dance floor, and acrobats swinging from the ceiling, has lost its New York City charm. But I spent all of my cash at the bar and it’s too late to take the subway. I could hit up an ATM, but it would be so much easier to just make out with that kid sitting on the couch who I studied abroad with in hopes that he’ll suggest we get out of here. Fine, his waist is smaller than mine, he has terrible acne, and he’s cocky for no reason, but he has money and probably hasn’t gotten ass in a while. I saunter my way over to “say goodbye” to him, but end up sitting on his lap. Within minutes, his tongue is down my throat. We continue this through Usher’s “Yeah,” Britney’s “Toxic,” and a remix of Snoop’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” Then, the moment I’ve been waiting for. After saying goodbye to the birthday girl, we head outside and hail a cab, making out the whole way to my dorm. When we get there, he pays the cabbie. My mission is accomplished.

But his isn’t, so we go up to my room. Now, I never realized how skinny he really was until he unbuttoned his black dress shirt and revealed a sticking-out rib cage and barely-there pecs. I start wishing I had just left him downstairs, but know that I just have to get this over with. I close my eyes and let my mind wander as we kiss some more, eventually slipping between my pink bed sheets and having sex.

I wake up the next morning to him jangling his keys as he puts them back into his pants pocket, his wallet and cell phone going in the others. I look at the clock. It’s 9am and he’s out the door. I roll over and go back to sleep, thankful that he knows the rules of the one-night-stand and that getting home last night only cost another notch on my bedpost.