“Awmuhgawd grrrl I feckin’ luff you”

~ The Drunkettes

By two.one.five Staff  |  Send to Friend

My First... : Wherein we reminisce about a seminal experience in our sexual education.

Campsite Intruder
Oh, Prom -- a monumental experience in any girl’s high-school experience, right? Well, for me it meant getting ridiculously dolled-up and spending the night trying to distract myself from my lame-ass date (and unfortunately, long-term boyfriend at the time) by booty-bumpin’ up a storm with my girls.
After the horrendous dance part ended, my friends and I piled up into our limo, arrived home and went our separate ways. Now in most cases, kids who just had a super-awesome time at their super-awesome senior prom and even shed a few tears because Omigod we’re graduating and I may never see you again, would go and get super-drunk in a cheap hotel in the nearest beach or semi-resort town. It would be the epitome of their high school-partying career. My date and I? Not quite the case.
We ended up going to a friend’s backyard in my borderline-Podunk hometown. It was your typical backyard party except maybe a little bit worse. There was a beer pong table on one side, a fire where all the stoners hung out on the other and muddy grass everywhere in between. Some indecipherable music played somewhere in the background while someone’s pet German Sheppard mingled in with the already-dwindling crowd. Upon entering I sighed and thought, “Well, at least there’s plenty of (cheap) alcohol.”
A few Vladimir vodka shots later and I became even more bored with my surroundings. Luckily, the gracious host of the backyard shindig had set up a few tents and even a pop-up trailer for the inebriated guests to crash in. My date and I scoped out one of the tents and snuck away to it while everyone else fixated themselves around the pong table.  
We hit the nylon-covered mud and started going at it. But, exhausted-from-booty-bumpin’ and buzzed self did not take into account the unfortunate state of the situation: I was doing what every teenager alive wants to do after his or her prom -- getting laid. Who cares how shitty the party is?
As soon as it started getting good – I mean good enough to almost compensate for the unsuccessful dance, the feeble attempt at a party and even the doofus on top of me – we heard an  “Awmuhgawd grrrl I feckin’ luff you,” a giggle and a swift unzipping noise. Two smashed-beyond-belief girls were entering our tent and there was only a thin – and completely transparent – piece of nylon separating us from them. My date and I stopped, mid-thrust, and exchanged horrified looks as the drunkettes kind of stared at us for a minute. The two just started giggling to each other and turned the other way so they could pass out. And no, they did not have the decency, or sense, to exit our sex-tent first.
I suppose we could have kept going and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference to the booze twins, but by that point I was far too fed up. Instead, I detached myself from the lame-o, rolled over and made a pathetic attempt at falling asleep. Prom night, monumental? I think not. 

 

Sexuations: Wherein we identify hot new sexual possibilities.

1. Hit & Run

Description: Sex is purported to be good for physical health. Why not take it a step further and co-opt it into an actual workout? Place your lady friend on your hard member and run in place. Make sure you hold her up and keep the pace until one of you reaches the finish line!
Forget the gym. I’m calling Kim, my gym buddy, so we can do a hit & run at her place tonight!

 

 

 

 

2. The Yankee Doodle

Wearing matching newspaper hats, put your macaroni in your lady's mouth like a set of reigns and ride her around the room like a pony, tickling their butt hole with a feather.
No I didn't skin my knees rollerblading, I let Patrick do the Yankee Doodle on me last night and I bucked around like a bronco.