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Since launching the new PGP site, we have received submissions each week regarding postgrad hookup horror stories. So naturally, we’re going to handpick the worst of the worst and show them to you. The names have been changed to protect the guilty’s career and personal life. Thou shalt not judge lest ye be judged.
If you’ve got a hookup horror story, submit it to Brian@grandex.co with “Humpday Hookups” as the subject, or submit your story using the submission form on the home page. All submissions will be made anonymous. Try to keep it under 500 words.
Hairy Colombian Chichas
Derek
I was on vacation in Cartagena, Colombia after my first year teaching. I was by myself, and since I am blonde and blue eyed, I was basically a kid in a candy store. The women were beautiful and they loved to give a gringo attention. I met this girl at a clothing store and started talking to her. She had the most amazing big brown boobies I have seen, and I was determined to see more of them.
After talking to her for awhile I convinced her to walk across the street after work to where my hotel was at and have dinner with me. She agreed, and around 7 at night she met me in the lobby and we proceeded to eat and drink local Colombian beer. She loved to talk, and I didn’t mind listening because my eyes were set on the prize: those big brown Colombian boobies. After we were both about four or five beers deep, I easily convince her to come upstairs with me. We were on the bed, and she was very hesitant. I’ll keep this short. I finally got the shirt off and to my dismay, I saw it. Her breasts were covered in very long, but very thin, sporadic hairs. She had hair all over her boobs. Not thick and bushy like a man’s, but spread out, and long. My brain has never been so confused. I quickly began to think of what this was and what could it mean. No, she was not a man. I have her as a friend on Facebook and she is married now with a kid.
So what did I do? Hell, what would you have done? I played with those fun bags for about 20 minutes, and then called it a night.
Snow Bonin’
Jeff from Maryland
It was early February of 2011, the year of snowpocalypse here in the DC Metro area. I met this girl earlier in the day and invited her out to a party we were having that night. It seemed like a foolproof plan at the time, but I, being the genius that I am, hadn’t looked at a weather report in three days, or noticed we had a major snowstorm incoming. Anyway, after three games of whiskey sour pong (don’t ever do that) and some dancing, she decided she wanted to come back to my place. We get back, both borderline blackout, and forego moving to my bedroom for simply stripping in the kitchen of my apartment and fucking, I shit you not, on my kitchen counter, right over the dishwasher.
I was under the impression we were home alone, so we both were going at it with a pretty solid amount of effort. You could probably hear us in the hallway. Anyway, a few minutes in, another bedroom door in my apartment cracks open, and I see my roommate and his boyfriend standing there.
“Oh…hey Scott, Clark. You probably want us to move to my room now, right?”
>…no answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Drunk me also informed him he may want to wash the counter down if he planned on cooking anything before the morning.
Fast forward to morning, and we are quite literally snowed in. 15 inches of snow had fallen by the time I woke up the next day. So, here I am, with this girl stuck at my place. Her house is in Baltimore, and the trains were shut down due to the massive amount of snow. Luckily, after an awkward 12 hours, we found out one of her friends was in College Park that weekend, so I trudged through the snow to drop her off there.
YOLO, or whatever the kids these days are saying.