The Air Down There

Name: .45
Age (at the time): Last week

Just recently, my girlfriend expressed an interest in bringing other girls into the bedroom. Though I may have been a little hesitant for a second, I think what really sold me on the idea was her telling me that part of her fantasy was to watch me give another girl some anal and a facial while she ate her pussy. What could I say, really? I just want my girlfriend to be happy; and I also read on Predator Press that most girls are willing to pay through the nose for a proper facial. As far as I could tell; everybody wins.

Never one to waste time pursuing things that don’t suck balls (or do, in some instances), I immediately set out to find the perfect girl to practice my facial skills on for my girlfriend’s enjoyment. I’d initially considered going out and picking up any drunk chick in a bar, but this usually requires some finesse and a lot of alcohol; and I hate finesse. There was also the concern that we’re planning to move to Austin next week, and I neither had the time nor the stomach to waste on the small-talk about chick bullshit that would be necessary to get some random hottie back to the garage I’m squatting in. This left only one option; the internet.

For those that don’t know, the internet is a magical place; where you can order anything from a machine that makes you breakfast sandwiches with egg and sausage to a hot blonde with nice tits that likes to be violated in all the ways that a hot blonde with nice tits could possibly like to be violated. I already owned the breakfast sandwich maker, and it makes fucking awesome breakfast sandwiches. It was now time to order the blonde with nice tits.

I found some places to stick some ads and I asked my girl to write them. As I mentioned before, I hate finesse; which also means that I don’t beat around the bush (so to speak). I’m not going to tell a chick I like Coldplay when I really just like pussy. She, on the other hand, actually does like Coldplay (and pussy); and can sincerely lure the pussy with some Coldplay small-talk.

And that she did.

It took maybe a day before we had a bite; and by all indications, it was a perfect bite. Hot blonde with nice tits and an otherwise smoking body that was ready to get down and dirty, very down and very dirty. Did I mention how much I love the internet? Sure, you’re thinking, that’s bullshit. So was I. That’s why I packed my switchblade with the peach lube. Depending on how the situation went, one of them was getting busted out. As it turned out though, I didn’t need the switchblade. The girl showed up as advertised, though perhaps a bit meth-skinnier. If it still seems too good to be true, however; it was. Read on (unless you’re with the mattress police, that have been after me for some time now.)

So, it’s going great at first. This chick is super flexible and she’s got her legs behind her head, presenting her pussy like she’s a wild animal in heat. My girl’s going down on her and I’m hearing all this weird noise. I’m thinking, Wow, she’s really going to town with the pussy sucking. It sounds like slurping noises. Unusually loud, but okay; she said it’s been a while and must really be getting into it. Whatever. I’m still wrapped up in the girl-on-girl.

The longer it goes on though, I’m starting to realize that the hot blonde is just queefing non-fucking-stop. Then I can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’s queefing so much. I’ve never witnessed anything like it, and didn’t know it was possible. Sure a queef will blow its way out once in a while, and you’ll just ignore it and press on. This was impossible to ignore. She was like a fucking tuba player rehearsing Beethoven’s 9th. I was starting to tap my feet to the repulsive rhythm, which ended in a crescendo of the queef of all queefs. It lasted an uncomfortably long time and kind of made me never want to have a pussy in my face again. If I had happened to have a medal on me, I would’ve awarded it to my girlfriend for bravery in the face of queef combat; but I didn’t have a medal, and it was my turn at bat.

I really can’t think of any other time I’ve so desperately wanted to get out of eating pussy. I generally love eating pussy except when, as Jason says, it smells like an open grave. In this case, the smell didn’t hit me right away. It was more of a cumulative thing that built up over a series of queefs. And umm no, she wasn’t done. Granted, I had it much easier than my girl. It was kind of like going to the eye doctor when they shoot that puff of air in your eye, except that she did it a couple times and the puff of air was foul as fuck. If I had that puff at the eye doctor, I would seriously have to reconsider my need for vision. If seeing means foul pussy air, I think I’m good with being blind.

The worst thing is that I got those puffs in my mouth, too; and nothing I tried would kill them. Mouthwash, jalapenos, bleach. I tasted that foulness for at least 2 days (on my girl too). After a couple days it finally went away, but I was starting to get worried that it wouldn’t. Think I may just order another breakfast sandwich maker. Everyone loves that shit.