A Beginner's Guide to Not Gettin' Anybyunclej©
Now, you're probably thinking that you really don't need any help not getting any. You may even believe that you know all you need to know about not getting any. I'd even venture to guess that you think you can go out to your favorite bar and not get any all by yourself. But I'm here to tell you that there are levels of not getting any that you haven't even begun to reach. My job here is to help you scale those lofty heights of not gettin' any that you can only reach with the help of someone older and somewhat wiser and much, much more experienced in these matters. Someone like me.
Last Saturday night I went to my favorite waterin' hole and hooked up with a lady that I've known for a couple of years. Great attitude on the gal. Just right for someone like me. She's pretty, she's single, she loves sex and she ain't lookin' for a husband. She's just lookin' for a little fun every once in a while and she likes me.
So we have a few drinks, make a visit or two to the parking lot to add to the overall enjoyment of the evening, if ya know what I mean, and when the bar closes we go to my place. It didn't take long to get nekid and down to business. And I do mean down. We "traded favors" for a little while. I sucked, she sucked. I licked, she licked. She came, I didn't. She got thirsty. So did I. She went to the fridge to get us a beer. I have a living room, dining room, kitchen combo. A big room with nothing to block my view so I enjoyed watchin' a little wigglin' and bouncin' as she went to the fridge. Since she knew I was watchin' she added a little extra wigglin' and bouncin' for my viewing pleasure. I'm an appreciative audience so I offered up a wolf whistle or two. Did I mention that she has a great little ass and some nice, medium sized tits with great nipples that just beg to be nibbled on? Well, she does, they do and I have.
Now, the refrigerator is situated at a right angle to where I was sitting and the door opens away from me so when she opened it the light really spotlighted all of her charms. Again I showed my appreciation with a little lewd but complimentary remark. She stuck her tongue out but was grinnin' at the same time so I knew she was enjoying the attention. So far so good. I'm havin' fun, she's havin' fun and there's no reason to believe that anything could happen that would keep me from "gettin' some". Wrong! You've heard of Murphy's Law? Murphy's law states, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong." But have you ever heard of O'Toole? O'Toole's corollary on Murphy's Law states, "Murphy was a fuckin' optimist". So sad, so true and so about to help me not get any.
The powers that govern the universe have a really, really perverted sense of humor. I've suspected it for years and right here in the next two minutes I was going to witness just how perverse they are. On the shelf above the beer was an open package of sausage links. These particular sausage links are about half again as long and twice as big around as a BallPark Frank. Big suckers. She spied them. She grabbed one. Things went down hill so quick from that point that I didn't even have time to say, "Slap my ass and call me Spanky".
She grabbed one of the aforementioned sausage links and started doing a little dance in the light of the fridge. Kinda like the one that Kim Bassinger did in 9 1/2 weeks. She pantomimed giving the sausage a blow job. She rubbed it on her cheek. She rubbed it on her nipples. Both of them. I'm sportin' some serious wood here and thinkin' maybe she's gonna let me play with both her and the sausage. She's dancin' to some serious low-down front porch Gibson pickin' blues on the stereo and I can see that she's gettin' turned on. Then she quit the pantomime and got serious. She took that big rascal and rubbed it between her pussy lips a couple of times and then slowly inserted about three or four inches and started movin' it around.
And that's when the "Gods of Not Gettin' Any" took over. She had been keeping eye contact all this time. That's a major turn on for me. As she slipped that big ole honkin' sausage into what I knew to be a really nice tight pussy her whole demeanor changed. At the first look of utter surprise I all at once remembered that those big ole honkin' sausages were spicy Cajun big ole honkin' sausages. I'm talkin' about hot here. These things are so hot they cook themselves. These things are so hot that if you boil them you can use the water to strip paint. I'm talkin' about serious hot here. What I didn't know until then is that a big ole honkin' spicy Cajun sausage will burn a sweet little pussy just as much, if not more than it will a bone headed redneck's mouth. And these were really, really hot big ole honkin' Cajun spicy sausages. Big. Hot.
If you look me right straight in the eye I will swear that I really didn't want to laugh and I won't flinch or blink or back down one damn bit. I swear to all that's holy I didn't want to laugh. Sometimes, not matter how good the intentions I just have no friggin' control at all. I laughed. For some reason she didn't share my amusement in the situation. He sexy little titty dancer sorta dance had now become a full fledged this hurts like a mother fucker and I'm gonna kick the livin' shit out of you if you don't stop laughin' at me you dick sorta dance. She's got both hands coverin' what I had just recently coveted. She turned on the faucet and slapped a double hand full of South Texas well water onto and into what I had just recently coveted. She was makin' noises that I could barely hear but that set my big ole water headed Lab to howlin' like Jack Nicholson had just turned into a werewolf and showed up at the front door. At this point I might have actually salvaged the evening and still gotten some if I hadn't offered to "kiss the booboo" and then laugh some more. A lot more.
And the whole time I was laughing I knew I was fuckin' up. I knew that I had reached the point of no fuckin' return and I still kept laughing. Oh, I was sayin' that I was sorry and was there anything I could do to help but I was still laughing uncontrollably. No more major wood stickin' up proud and manly. No, that rascal had enough sense to disappear completely. I used to think that I was smarter than my dick. Now I'm not so sure. And then the "fuck you asshole" started. "Come here sugar and let me make it better."
"Fuck you asshole. I'm not gettin' anywhere near you, you dipwad."
"Aw, don't be that way baby. I didn't mean to laugh. Come on over here and sit down."
"No, just sit there and play with yourself you asshole. I don't even like you any more." Somewhere between teasin' and real damned serious. Probably leanin' a whole lot more toward real damn serious. "You want me to rub some lotion on it. It'll feel better."
"Fuck you asshole. You ain't rubbin' nothin' of mine. Rub your own damned self you shit heel."
In the end she did have a seat on the couch. On the far end of the couch. As far away from me as you can get on this couch. Then she started laughing. A little. Just a parsimonious little laugh. Almost a giggle. Not a big ole laugh like mine but a good sign I thought. Then she started putting her clothes on. All of them. A bad sign I thought. Watchin' her put those clothes on wasn't nearly as excitin' as helpin' her take them off. Not nearly. Then she walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the beers. And the big ole honkin' Cajun spiced sausage.
She took a big ole gulp of her beer, handed me mine and then smacked me right on top of my big ole stupid head with that big ole honkin' Cajun sausage and said, "I still love you but if you think you're gettin' any of this pussy tonight you're real fuckin' wrong........ asshole........call me." The last thrown over her shoulder on the way to the front door. And she left. Leaving me to wonder what the hell had just happened to what should have been a perfect evening of gettin' some and what the hell I was supposed to do with the big ole honkin' Cajun spiced sausage. I opened the back door and threw it to my big ole water headed Lab and he ate it in one big gulp. Didn't seem to burn him at all. I went to bed. Alone.
So next time you think you know all there is to know about not gettin' any. Just remember that you're not even in the same league of not gettin' any as me. Nope, not nearly. Practice and experience are the only things that'll get you into my league.