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If you’ve got a Humpday Hookup Horror Story, submit it HERE. Try to keep it under 500 words. All submissions will be made anonymous. Thou shalt not judge, lest ye be judged…
“Why Don’t We Get Outta Here…”
“Allison” from St. Louis, MO
I was your typical single girl after college. I went out to bars, went boyfriend hunting in all the wrong places and went on disaster dates every weekend. My friends saw my struggle firsthand. I had broken up with my college boyfriend and after numerous attempts at rebounding, I was close to giving up. Then my friends started telling me about this great guy they had been hanging out with. They said he was cute, funny and incredibly charming. Triple threat. My friends were gushing over him the night we were supposed to meet up with him. I could feel myself falling in pre-love with him. I had begun romanticizing him before I’d even met him. I was certain I was going to fall head over heels in love that night.
We headed to the bar and patiently awaited his arrival. I was super fidgety and my friends kept telling me to calm down. He and his friends finally came in and we were finally introduced. Of course, I went straight at him with the “I’ve heard so much about you!” introduction, that was just the right mix of excitement and double entendre. I locked eyes several times with him during our initial group conversation and then the liquor started flowing. I don’t know how I did it, but I meticulously maneuvered my way to each and every one of his friends and made it look like I was playing hard to get with him. It worked to perfection. He was pursuing me just over an hour later. I stood with him by the bar and we started taking shots. His game was off the charts. I was hanging on every word. He was good. Really good.
We headed to the dance floor and started making out shortly after. Our bodies entwined on the dance floor, a human pretzel dipped in American Honey and Budweiser. He finally grabbed my hand and we headed back to the bar. This was it. He was going to ask me to go home with him. I wasn’t one for waiting. “One last shot?” he said with a smile. I obliged with a drunken nod and took it down. I looked at him with bedroom eyes. This was it.
“So…why don’t we get outta here…” YAS. Take me. Dear god. My body is yours. “…and you come back to my place and suck my cock?”
I thought he was kidding. I could have stayed and eviscerated him right there. Instead, I felt the color drain out of my face and I quickly stormed out of the bar. This dude had laid out a red carpet of seduction and played the game to perfection. With three words, he destroyed all of it. Never talked to him again.
Sneaking Around
“Matt” from Boston, MA
My girlfriend and I moved in together without telling our parents, both sets of them are very conservative. I’m pretty sure my parents think I’m a virgin. Regardless, we were finally going home for my girlfriend to finally meet my family. We knew we wouldn’t be sleeping in the same room and our plans to have sex with one another were rather complicated. She was going to be sleeping in my room and I was bunking up in the basement. I pleaded with my girlfriend to not come try to visit me in the middle of the night, because I knew my parents would be keeping an eye out for stuff like this. My dad sleeps four hours a night and my mom is a vulture. Trying to sneak back into the house after a night of drinking in high school was like breaking into the Louvre.
We were staying with my parents for four nights. I told her that’s how long she’d have to wait. So, we made it through the first two nights without a hitch. We were both exhausted after long days with the family and crashed as soon as we got back to the house. Night three was different. We got drunk at dinner and then polished off several bottles of wine back at the house before my parents headed up to bed. After a long 48 hours and our guards being let down by massive amounts of booze, she and I decided to head down to the basement for a little late night action. We had sex and then promptly passed out shortly after.
About six hours later, I was jolted awake by the sound of my mother charging down the stairs like an angry rhino and shouting at me about disrespecting their home. She marched me and my girlfriend upstairs and sat us down in the living room. She and my dad lectured us about the sins of premarital sex for over an hour while we were hungover..
“Matt” didn’t specify, but in the interest of keeping the trend going, I’m going to assume they did butt stuff.
All I want is Humpday Buttstuff Horror (or Success) Stories.
I got you, next week.
I’d rather have my dad constantly crack jokes about banging my mom (one of his favorite pastimes), than to ever have Matts parents.
More like a high school hook-up horror story. You’re a post grad why do you have to listen to your parents? I tell my parents my hobbies are snowboarding, drinking, and philandering.
Asking a girl if she wants to come back to your place… to suck your dick. PGPM.
laaaaaaaame