I have spent the better part of the day trying on new and surprisingly uncomfortable outfits getting ready for tonight's company Christmas party. I must look my best if I am going to have any chance of dipping my wick into an overly drunk female tonight. After careful deliberation with my crotch I have chosen to wear my black and white velvet remake of the traditional James Bond tuxedo. The only problem with this particular outfit is that it makes me look like a greasy waiter at a low-end Mexican restaurant. Oh well, someone has to.
Walking like an emaciated, coked-up super model, I confidently strut my outfit back and forth in front of my bathroom mirror. I must look sensual, and I do. I am one sexy man-bitch. For a moment I pause and gaze at the luscious masculinity reflecting back at me and deliver my new lady-magnet catch phrase, "My name is G'cock…Hugh G'cock," with the care and class of a jet-setting secret agent porn star. I am ready.
Look out, ladies! The Man is on the prowl and he's hungry. Hungry for cheap drunken Christmas party ass.
For the first time in my life I have a foolproof, non-fail plan to initiate conversation with Mary at the Christmas Party.After bathing my entire body in my reserve bottle of High Kung Fu cologne, I make my way down the stairwell of my apartment to my cherry ride. The drive to the Christmas party allows me enough time to perfect my one and only pick up line, a line I've been working on for a night just like this: "Hey baby…wanna fuck?"
According to all of the classy skin mags I've been religiously studying, if this line is delivered at the right time to the right person, it is virtually foolproof. No woman can resist its charm. This line will either provide me with a night of hardcore sex or an unpleasant ride to the closest emergency room with my balls kicked halfway up my ass. As I am no stranger to pain and humiliating rejection, it's a risk I am willing to take for a possible chance to tap some drunken female ass.
As I pull up in front of the party, my ears are immediately assaulted by the putrid sounds of a live polka band performing classic Christmas covers. Jingle Bells has now lost all meaning to me. Damn you, you polka-playing bastards! I try my hardest to love and accept all forms of music, but for some reason I cannot begin to accept or show any interest in the stench that is polka.
Resting my head on the chain steering wheel of my car, I take a brief moment to have a deep and meaningful conversation with my one and only friend, my crotch. "Tonight is your night to shine big guy, so don't let me down." I receive a quick nod of approval and with that I am given the strength to confidently enter the party. The clock in my car reads 10:30. I'm late for the party. I always make sure to show up late for the company Christmas party though. I like to make a fashionable entrance. Actually, I like to show up late because I know everyone else will be stinking drunk and no one will pay any attention to my special attire.
The door to the party is manned by what appears to be an elf, escaped from Santa's arctic sweat shop. This freaky little bastard has one arm, one leg, and a festive eye patch covering his right eye. The most terrifying thing about this image is that he is dressed in a miniature Santa suit that smells of stale bourbon and fresh urine. The mere sight of this creepy little bastard gives me a festive chill I can only describe as the essence of pure horror. I slide past the demonic little holiday reject and make my approach to the main nerve of the party, the open bar.
Snaking my way through the pack of piss-tanks that have converged around the free alcohol, I sidle up to the bar and order my favorite drink, a virgin Pina Colada with a rum chaser on the side. I am amazed when the bartender actually provides me with what I ordered, and he doesn't even call me a pussy. Wow, this is a great sign. Tonight is definitely going to be my night to shine.
I inconspicuously scan the room attempting to locate my Mount Everest, Mary, the goddess of my dreams. Praise Mary's Ass. I must find her. For the first time in my life I have a foolproof, non-fail plan to initiate a conversation with her. I brought her prize, the free latte, my guaranteed opener. If I get her at the right time, when she can barely walk due to her being utterly intoxicated, and present her with a free coffee, she may put out. I have dreamt of being Mary's drunken pity fuck (or even just her drunken pity hand job) since I first laid eyes on her. I know this may sound sad, but when you are a man who's been dating the "palm sisters" for as long as I have, your expectations tend to plummet.
It doesn't take me long to find Mary. She is wearing a sparkly, red-sequinned dress with her breasts pushed up so high there is a great possibility that at any moment they could burst out and make a crowd-stopping appearance. She is the most beautiful woman in the room and is receiving constant attention from everyone, so I patiently wait my chance to talk to her. When she is temporarily left alone, I make my way over to her.
I can't believe it, she is within arm's reach, and I can even smell her perfume. Her scent is intoxicating. She smells like a dewy meadow after a spring rain of Southern Comfort. I must have her, she must be mine. Frantically I search through my jacket pockets hoping to find Mary's prize. Out of the front pocket of my jacket comes the free latte coupon and I desperately hold it out in front of her. When it starts to appear that she is going to take the coupon out of my hand she is dragged away by one of her many drunken friends. The night is passing quickly, the party is almost over. I need to make my move before she is scooped up by another man.
Mary slides her hand into my hair and slurs, "Sooo, Prinz Shlarming….do you want to come to mys place?"The clock on the wall is ticking fast; the party is starting to thin out. I contemplate just giving up and ending the night in a fall down drunken display of legendary debauchery, but this clever idea is dispelled when Mary looks in my direction and waves me over. I am completely stunned; I don't know what to do so I take a man-sized sip from my drink and pump my hips to the music as I make my way over to her. I stand directly in front of her, swaying from side to side, trying to stay in rhythm with her drunken movements.
Before I have a chance to say anything, Mary opens her mouth and slurs through a drunken, foul-smelling belch, "You are only zobber persons left at za parties. Can zoo gives me a rides home to my home?"
I am in shock. What does one say when a really hot drunken women asks you for a ride home? I do my best to compose myself, then whimper, "Sure I'll ride you—No…I'll give you a ride home. It would be your pleasure—No! I mean, it would be my pleasure. I would be honored to drive you home." Honored, yeah, that's suave.
She wraps her arms around me and drags me towards the door. "Letz goo, I needs to feed my kizzy catz."
The drive to Mary's house is totally silent. Nothing is exchanged between us other than a couple of fleeting smiles. Pulling up in front of her townhouse, I find a secluded spot and park my car. Before I have a chance to look over in her direction, Mary slides her hand into my hair and slurs, "Sooo, Prinz Shlarming….do you want to come to mys place and fuck or do yous wants me to sucks your cock right here?"
She beat me to it. She has just seduced me with a modified version of my own pick-up line! I am in total shock. I say nothing due to the fact that this is the first time any woman has actually asked me if I wanted to have sex or get sucked. I don't know what to do. The pressure is too much.
Before I can respond, Mary has my rock hard appendage in her hand. "The lightzes are on in my place soes that means my roommate is homes. I'm going to haves to suck your cocks right heres. Is that okey withs yous, baby?" My head wags up and down frantically. I am unable to speak. Mary lets out a giggling belch and says, "Jus shaly back an let momma takes care of youz."
Her eager mouth is wide open and she leans forward to engulf my cock. I sit back and wait for her to leave lipstick on my balls. As her head dips down my crotch is greeted with a large amount of warm smelly liquid. I stare up at the ceiling of my car and say to myself, "I think she just puked on my cock."
I look down and confirm the bad news. It is true, what was supposed to be an awesome drunk girl blowjob has just turned into a massive pile of vomit being deposited on my cock and balls. I might not be as disappointed if she actually put my cock in her mouth before she threw up, but I wasn't even that lucky. As I stare down at my bare crotch covered in puke, a single tear rolls down my left cheek. Looks like she ate something with pineapple for dinner.
To my amazement I still have a hard on.
After completing the arduous task of wiping vomit off of my cock and balls, I carefully exit my vehicle. Opening the passenger door, I am greeted with the sight of a drunken, passed-out goddess lying face down on the dash of my car. I think myself to be in pretty good shape, but it takes me a considerable amount of effort to carry Mary to the front door of her townhome due to the massive size of her breasts. The thought of being seen by her roommate motivates me to lean the smelly goddess against her door, ring her door bell, and then flee back to my vehicular sanctuary like I am being chased by an axe-wielding maniac.
From the vantage point of my car I am presented with the sight of Mary falling face first into her home as her roommate answers the door. After watching Mary's roommate struggle to drag her into the townhome I slowly drive away. Tonight did not work out in my favor, but there is always next year's Christmas Party.