Over in Cruising Anarchy there is a thread entitled: “"Adventures" in yacht ownership and fucking up.” Now, if people can come clean about fucking up their expensive boats then I think it is time for folks to 'fess up about embarrassing fuck ups with the opposite sex. No, I am not talking about something as simple as calling your current sweetie by your ex’s name, that is too common. I am talking about those moments so monumentally bad that you wish the earth would open up and swallow you to put you out of your misery. In the spirit of things, I will start it off, sharing something that happened to me a long, long time ago.
I was a college student and I enjoyed a bit of fun with the ladies. I was what they now call a “non-traditional” student before they the norm on campus. I had gotten out of the Army and worked in a factory before I finally decided to use my GI Bill benefits and get me some of that higher education. Besides, as a veteran, my state paid 80% of my tuition if I went to a state school. I figured between that and the princely sum of $300.00 a month from the GI Bill I wouldn't be living large but I could get by. So there I was, BMOC in my faded field jacket and older than most of the kids on campus. I had met a young lady, let's call her Jane. Now Jane was quite pretty, very intelligent, fun creative and fat. Let's just call a spade a spade here, she was more than curvy, more than full figured, she was big. This was a long time ago before these euphemisms have been up-sized to accommodate today's larger women, but by the standard of those days, she was more than a bit plump. Of course there were compensations, she did have huge breasts. I liked Jane a lot, we had a lot of fun together and occasionally we would romp in bed. She definitely had talents in that area. The problem was, pig that I was, I could never quite get over her size. Call me what you will but it was what it was.
One night I was out pub crawling with my roommate, let's call him Tom. We had hit a few bars and the last stop of the night was a Chinese restaurant that also had a disco. Tom and I were having a beer or three at that late hour I decided I was a little hungry. I decided to order some egg rolls, since the Chinese food menu was available in the disco as well. In retrospect, I should have realized that a couple of greasy egg rolls after a long night of drinking may not have been the wisest choice but then I wouldn't have this story so perhaps it was an inspired choice after all. As I was wolfing down my egg rolls, I notice Jane had come in to the disco. I told my roomie that Jane had arrived and as it was near closing time and I was feeling the need for companionship and hadn't found any yet. I said that under no circumstances was Tom to let me take Jane home with me that night, I was horny and drunk and to do anything necessary to save me from myself, just don't let me leave with Jane. He agreed that he would protect me. Shortly after, Jane saw me and came to our table and sat down. She had a drink and we talked about this and that. Soon last call arrived, we finished our drinks and it was time to go. I looked around and noticed Tom had disappeared. Fine, I thought, I am a big boy,I can take care of myself, and I promptly asked Jane if she wanted to come to my place. What can I say, I was weak. And drunk. Of course she agreed and off we went.
We arrived at my apartment, Tom still wasn't home and Jane and I went in to my bedroom. We started to do the usual, kissing and touching and such and soon we were rolling naked on my little bed. I was quite thin then but very tall and Jane was, well I described her above. Now I pride myself on my exceptional oral skills and in no time I had placed my head between Jane's more than ample thighs and was doing a creditable job with my tongue given the amount of alcohol I had consumed earlier. In no time, Jane was responding favorably to my efforts and started to squirm and moan. Soon she wasn't just squirming, she was bucking like an unbroken bronco with a hapless rodeo rider sitting on top. I was doing my best, hanging on for dear life with an arm strapped around each massive thigh, my head whipping back and forth like I was at a Metallica concert and not missing a beat. I was a trooper and I always believed in giving my best and I wanted to see this thing through to her climax. After a couple of minutes of this intense movement, the beer and the egg rolls were interacting in my belly and suddenly I started to feel a little queasy. Never mind I thought, I'll just keep going, she will climax soon. But she didn't. Although her little squeals of pleasure had given way to screams of ecstasy, she wasn't done yet. I was starting to feel like a Catalina 25 in a low pressure in the roaring 40s, up and own, back and forth, up and down. Needless to say the beer and egg rolls had started to reach critical mass and were attempting to leave my stomach by the same route they had entered. I stifled a heave or two and then realized resistance was futile and decided I better go hurl before I did it all over her womanhood. Mumbling an apology, I quickly disentangled my self, jumped off of the bed and started for the bedroom door as a massive heave starting somewhere in my toes, worked its way though my stomach and toward my mouth. I quickly clamped one hand over my mouth, the other hand grabbed toward the door knob but it was too late. With a horrible retching sound, I proceeded to erupt like a gastric Vesuvius. There was nothing pretty about it, partially digested egg rolls and beer sprayed between my fingers, out my nose, and all over the walls, door and floor of my bedroom. Of course this was the time when shag carpet was all the rage and my apartment had it wall to wall in every room. I managed to get the door open somehow and tracking vomit across the carpeted hall on the bottoms of my bare feet I got in to the bathroom and finished emptying my tortured stomach in the vicinity of the toilet. Then I washed my hands and sheepishly entered the bedroom again. Sorry about that I muttered. Jane looked up at me from the bed and smiled. Don't worry about it she said, where are your cleaning rags, I'll clean that up for you. Hardly believing my ears I told her where to find the cleaning supplies and collapsed on the bed. The next thing I remember, Jane was climbing into bed next to me. All cleaned up she said, and thanks for the nice orgasm.
The next morning we woke up, there was no sign of the incredible mess I had made the night before and Jane was all smiling and happy. I took her back to her apartment and we didn't say a word about my little pyrotechnics. Jane and I remained friends after that and occasionally had sex, including a threesome one night but that is another story. In retrospect, I should have married that girl, her actions that fateful night were definitely above and beyond the call of duty. She must have really loved me! Sorry Jane, wherever you are now, I hope you found a good man and happiness.
So there you have it. Share your misadventures if you like.