Used to post here but stopped years ago. Still read and saw this thread. The birth story was too funny. This story has nothing to do with DMB but I'm bored at with and it's a great story so I will share. Anyway, I've never been to a strip club, but I have had sex with a stripper. And it was disgusting. Here's the story.
It was my last year of college (I say "last" instead of "senior" because I did a victory lap) and I had just broken up with my girlfriend the summer before so I wanted to make it memorable. Sexually. Fortunately I attended a university that catered to such escapades. I won't name it specifically because I wouldn't want to disgrace it, but we'll just say it's in Tucson, Ariz.
The bars immediately outside of campus were all students, and the collection of females at that school, aesthetically speaking, is off the charts. I'm from the northeast (live in NYC now) and I could pick the hottest girl I know up here and she wouldn't even compare to the girls down at school. Unfortunately those girls knew how hot they were, so they weren't all that easy to take home.
The non-students, or "T-Loc's" (Tucson Locals) were a different story. There was a popular string of bars on 4th Ave. that had a pretty healthy mix of T-Loc's and they were incredibly easy to get. Fish in a barrel, if you will. So every night it was basically "Should we try to get a really hot girl, or go down to 4th and get laid by simply demonstrating we know how to breathe in and out." More often than not we chose the ladder.
So one night we go down to 4th and I see this girl. Not horrible looking, clearly Mexican, but an incredible body. Let's just say she had the ideal figure to be a stripper. A successful one at that. Wouldn't you know it... she was. I went up to her and started dancing. I was completely hammered - this was when caffeinated Four Loko was at its height, aka the "Golden Age of Hooking Up" - so I don't remember a single thing she said other than that she was a stripper. I'd never been to a strip club so that really turned me on. Plus I really like tits, and she had a great pair. We're grinding really hard core and we start hooking up. I was pretty pumped.
But then my roommate got kicked out of the bar, so I had to leave. Fortunately the story doesn't end there.
We're back at our apartment wondering what could have been. I'm sitting on the couch and I very clearly have the spins. It isn't a matter of if I throw up, but when. Then, out of nowhere, I get a call from a number I didn't recognize. It was the stripper. She wanted to hang out, but she was too drunk to drive her car. Instead of thinking to call her a cab, I blurt into the phone "I'll be right there!" I sprint the two miles to the bar in my dress shoes, jeans and button down shirt. You might think I'm embellishing when I say sprint, but I truly was. Forrest Gump-like determination.
I get to the parking lot where she told me to meet her. I am quite literally covered in sweat. My hair gel has been completely washed away and my shirt is dripping. Nevermind the grundle sweat. This girl had no idea what she was in for. Truly.
I somehow manage to drive her from the bar back to my apartment, completely hammered. One of the worst decisions of my life, but everyone survived it. We get back to my place and immediately start hooking up. I immediately take her shirt off and it was all worth it. We get on my bed and she goes down on me, but after about 15 seconds those spins from earlier come rushing back with a vengeance. I stopped a blow job from a stripper in the top of the first inning because if I had any chance of throwing a complete game I couldn't be on my back.
We start having sex, and this is where things get hazy. I was so focused on not throwing up that I had zoned everything around me out, including her. So after a little while, to my complete surprise, she squirted. Everywhere. I was completely caught off guard. I'd never experienced this before and it smelled absolutely horrible. So what did I do?
I threw up. Everywhere.
On on my sheets, on my pillows, on my wall but most notably on her face. It was a crime scene. I immediately ran to my bathroom to continue to throw up. I think I passed out because the next thing I remember was walking into my bedroom and smelling the worst collection of smells you could ever imagine. And the girl was gone. To this day I have so many questions. Where did she go? How did she clean all of the vomit off of her if I was locked in the bathroom? What was her name? I'll never know.