Obsessions.

More anonymous postings make me laugh. It's obvious that these people know who I am personally and really do not like the fact that I tell the truth about how much of a douche I was.

First, it was that I had a small dick. Now it's that the girls I bang randomly are not classy. No shit? Tell me something I don't know.

I think it's obvious that no girl is actually classy. If they are a class act they wouldn't be out at parties and bars getting hammered. That's how that works. The nicest girls I know spend their nights with their family or close friends watching the Soprano's or having girl nights with their friends. These are not the girls you can easily trick into banging them in one night. Which is what I was going for because I already had a girlfriend. I didn't need two.

Well, I wouldn't mind two. I've tried to go out with three girls at once in high school and it didn't pan out the way I thought it would. Which would be me having sex with all three of them at the same time. Not at separate times through out the week.

Instead I got left with no one. I know, Boo-fucking-hoo. Must be because "on the real, I'm not even that attractive."

Speaking of really classy broads. That reminds me of a story that has something to do with Boston, a lot to do with an escort service and a good buddy who was disappearing to Iraq to "get some". I like to have a good time with my friends before they leave for war. You know war. No women, No real place to sleep, bombs, bullets and buzz cutted retards with guns.

This buddy of mine, Aah, is one of the only people I know with his shit totally together. You can say it was the military, but I'll just say it's because the kids smart as fuck. Who joins the infantry with line scores of 122? (If you don't know what that means, pretend.) But, alas, he is still a male who has to feed the need for fundamental parts of life. Sex, Alcohol, Food, Sex.

One night we were going over this little snippet of intellectual debauchery. When you black out, you run on basic instincts. The need to eat. The need to fuck. The need to fight. The need to drink more.

Not necessarily in that order.

For me, from what I hear, when I black out it goes booze, sex, food, fight. Which is pretty stereotypical of me to do. It's not every night I can pull a random into my bullshit. It's not as easy as I make it out to be. Sometimes you really just need to scour the phone book for escorts.

In Boston this isn't extremely difficult. You get a hotel room. You get the phone book, which is located directly next to the Gideon bible. You open up to the letter E and you find the escort service with the biggest ad. The bigger the Ad, the classier the girls, or so I thought.

We get home from one of the bars in Boston after taking several shots of Jameson and we find this beautiful yellow book. This was still at the time when I had an extreme amount of money to burn. With a pocket full of benjamins and a face full of alcohol the idea of a hooker is a very tangible experience. We skip past the first couple of pages, looking for that ad. The ad with the most beautiful girl that takes up a whole page. This should mean a bigger selection of whores, and I wanted to bang my self an Asian broad. We call up a couple of the places with the big ads. To my dismay the ladies on the phone are total cunts. I can imagine though, they work in retail. The retail of pussy.

That shit should sell it's self.

The first place we call up doesn't have any Asians for me. Hang up. Call the next one. Same thing, for at least four places. Then when we find one that finally does two guys and two girls. I don't remember the amount of money they wanted us to pay. But it was somewhere in the three hundred dollars an hour range. It only takes me about eleven seconds. So I'm thinking this won't be that bad of a price. Turns out there's a minimum of three hundred. Fuck. That.

We finally get to the perfect escort service. I'm on the phone with the lady on the other end. "I want an Asian girl, and a blond girl."

What's awesome about escort services is that you can pick whatever race of women you want to get into. Black? sure. Puerto Rican? Definitely. She tells me that it's only two hundred an hour for each girl.

Alright. I can deal with that. That's reasonable. We wait about forty seconds before we both pass out in this hotel. I just strip down and go to my boxers figuring that they'll probably never show up.(two beds, no homo.) Around 4 A.M I hear a ridiculously loud knock. I had forgotten about the phone call previously made to the escort service. I look at Aah, he looks at me and we both just say "hookers". A shit eating grin comes to my face.

I open the door expecting to see two beautiful hookers. The kind I see idolized in movies. Long flowing hair, amazing bodies, long legs, pretty eyes. The kind of hooker that I'd have to pay to sleep with.

Only one of them was attractive.

This is not the one I got.

"Hi. We're from ****** services. Did you call for a date?"

I'm pretty disappointed because I know that I'm still going to give this Asian girl that I could pick up in any bar on any night two hundred dollars to hang out with me. As this was my first experience with a whore. I didn't understand the way it works. They have to pay their "pimp" around $175, Then they get to keep the extra twenty five for them selves. Whatever they swindle out of you, they get to keep.

But this is the tricky bullshit they pull. You can get a blow job for fifty extra, or for a hundred you can go balls to the wall and just tear it up. The second option doesn't really appeal to me as the girl I got was chubby and had a zit on her for head that I couldn't help but stare at.

The other one? Actually attractive. Blond hair, 5'7 maybe, small frame and a personality that only a hooker with experience could have.

I think the other one was on a training mission. You know when you go to a restaurant and the person that is training just walks around behind the waitress and does what she's told. That's pretty much how that went.

"Who gets who?"

I am immediately jealous. But, I ordered the Asian one and he got the blond one. Not much I can do about that.

I point at the blond, then point at Aah. I look at the Asian girl and point at my self. I think she can tell I'm disappointed. I mean, I'm not the most attractive guy in the world. But I she was probably thinking "This kids going to pay me to put his cock in his mouth? I would of done it for free."

You know when you go to the doctors and they have absolutely no qualms about just grabbing your nuts and making you cough? You kind of feel awkward, but safe.

I'm used to strippers. They talk you the fuck up and then ask you if you want a dance or "show". This is not how hookers operate. They're like the doctor. Turn your head, and pull it out.

Aah opts for the high end package, but I could understand why. Me? I'll just stick with my blow job, thank you. I'm thinking to my self that she must be amazing at giving head. She's a legit whore. Not just any regular run of the mill girl. I'm thinking I'm going to get me some porn star head.

She pulls out a condom.

I make the sad puppy face and she explains that she's not allowed to blow people with out a condom on. I think about it for a second and I'm wondering, is it me that she's afraid of getting something from, or the other way around?

I don't know if any of you have given/received head with a condom on. It's the most useless thing you will ever receive. Even worse than a sweater your grandmother gives you at Christmas. You never want to wear it in or around anyone, including your self.

I'm just going to straight out say this. This is one of the worst sexual experiences of my life and I had to pay for it. A chubby Asian with a massive zit on her forehead blowing me with a condom on. She can't even suck a dick right. How worthless. Going slow as fuck and not saying a word. Staring at the base of my dick with her pimple square in my view. I ask her, if It's alright if I stand up against the wall and she just go to town.

Aah's over there just tearing up this whore. She's screaming shit like "Oh my god your cock is so massive. Fuck me, fuck me, Oh my fucking god!"

I look down at mine and she's still just going slow and acting like she's never sucked a dick for money before. Leave it up to karma to give me the one whore in the whole world who is afraid of cock.

I've faked orgasms before with girlfriends, but that was just so I could go back to sleep because dreaming would be better then the sex. I didn't think I'd have to pay to get blue balls. I go over the idea of faking the orgasm to make this girl not feel as bad.

Instead, I just grab her by the cheek and say "It's not going to happen with you."

Stupid drunk Bazucki, you never get anything you say right. She puts a little more effort into it. And by a little more effort I mean none at all.(oh, see that snappy shit I just typed out.)

So let's recap, I paid a massive amount of money to get a blow job with a condom on from a girl I could of pulled at Christophers Pub before she even started drinking. I didn't get off. I didn't even have the remote feeling of pleasure in any way shape or form. This literally is, the worst sexual experience I've ever had.

The only upside to this one story for me. The next day I'm at work, "hourney's" and catalina pops in to say hi. Well, stalk me at work is what we called it. She actually told me that she would break up with me if I continued to work there. That it was gross that I worked with high school girls and all this other tripe.

Oh, I'm obsessing again. oops.

She asks what me and Aah did in Boston, with the straightest face ever I tell her "We banged hookers silly." She giggles and slaps me in the leg and tells me "Oh, stop."

Like Ryan said, she doesn't have the perception to receive deception. See how easy it is?


go ahead, anonymous, Flame-on.