On a web site, someone asked the question: Have you ever popped a girl and then saw her several years later and she made you want to puke?
I posted a story about a girl and some seemed to enjoy it so I will put it here for those that do not frequent that web site.
Back when I was in high school I would bang pretty much anything with a vagina and a set of lung warts. One particular girl, Kimberly McCellan -- aka: Booger -- was very unattractive. She had a pig nose, wore glasses, had some messed up choppers, a mullet and easily topped the scales out at over 200 +. Looking back, I’m pretty sure she was mildly retarded because I can’t remember a single intelligent conversation I had with her. One particular conversation that I remember the most is when she asked me if I ever got “poop” on my hand when wiping, and, if so, did I ever smell it. She was indeed quite strange.
She was my don't-tell-booty call. This is how the relationship started:
She lived in this shack of a home with her older sister and their mother. Her father had been a garbage man until he was killed when a cable on his garbage truck broke and severed his jugular vein. My dad knew Mr. McCellan as he was known in these parts as "Goat Man". He always kept a yard full of goats and hogs. He wasn’t a farmer, but he made a little extra cash to support his alcoholism by selling hogs and goat milk. One of my dad’s favorite stories is about the time he went over to Mr. McCellan's to purchase a hog and witnessed Goat Man fighting a goat. Apparently, the goat had rammed Goat Man and he had decided he was going to teach it a lesson. He hopped on a tricycle that he had fashioned into a goat rammer and started a ramming fight with the goat. My father said this went on for about 15 minutes until finally the goat gave in and stumbled off -- lesson learned.
Anyway, the mom was extremely overweight, so much so that she rarely left the home. A few times a year my parent’s church would help out a poor family and my father would always make me help. I guess he thought it was supposed to teach me some type of valuable lesson about how it sucks to be poor. For the most part they helped out families around the holidays; buy toys for kids that Santa wouldn’t visit, buy a Thanksgiving dinner for a family in need, yard work -- stuff like that. This particular case, the family they decided to help out was Booger's.
As most of you know, my father is a retired police officer, but what some of you may not know is that he is also decent handyman. He can fix pretty much anything that breaks around the house (dishwashers, washing machines, toilets, etc.) and he can also build stuff; decks are his forte, so when Ms. McCellan informed my father’s church that she was in need of a deck with a wheelchair ramp, my dad was more than happy to help out.
The deck building started in late December and it was cold, really cold. I, of course, was being the whiny little bitch that I am when it comes to manual labor and my father was being his typical hardassed self, so we were butting heads. I was telling him that it was too cold to be outside working and he was asking me if my little boy pussy was bleeding.
Booger's older sister must have heard us because she stepped outside and asked if we would like some hot coco. I jumped at this offer as if I were a Jew in Auschwitz being offered some stale bread. While I was in their home warming up, Booger walked over to the table and sat down across from me. We had some small talk and then she asked if I would sign her year book. The year book was in her bedroom so we walked back there. 5 minutes later she was face down and I was taking a trip down the tuna tunnel. From that point on, Booger became my regular booty call. When I was in a dry spell or just needed someone to take some of my frustrations out on, I'd call Booger. I fucked her in several locations, but our favorite spot was this old saw mill that was about a mile from my home because it was secluded and well insulated. Booger would put-out anytime and anywhere.
About 6 months ago I saw here in Wal-Mart. She, like her mother was (I think she is dead now) is extremely overweight. She was riding in one of those fat carts that all Wal-Mart’s have and I avoided her like she was Black Death, and, yes, I wanted to puke when I thought back to the many times I rolled in her bulldog lip.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Confused
Well, it has been one strange week for me. First of all, I made the decision to end my relationship with Lilly. Well, really, it was kind of a mutual decision.
I didn’t dump her over the fact that she had been a whore. I decided I could live with that, but the fact that she had clued me into her dark secret gave me way too much ammunition to not use. Plus, she made the mistake of thinking that my house was her house which was cool with me, but she started bitching about some of my living habits and that was not cool. It’s my damn house and if I want to leave a dirty towel on the floor, I’ll leave a dirty towel on the floor, or, if I want to leave a dirty dish in the sink, I’ll leave a dirty dish in the sink.
When she would start in on me about trivial shit, I, of course, would have to bring up the fact that she had been a whore. The first few times I did this she would just go to another room and cry, but eventually she couldn’t take my insults and we decided to go our separate ways.
Yesterday, Jana called me and said she had made an appointment for Luke to have his picture made at Wal-Mart. She said something had come up at work and she couldn’t take him. Maybe she considers greasing her boss’s pole, who, by the way, is a highly respected pediatric dentist with a wife, “work”, but I just consider it her being the tally-whacker loving whore that she is.
Anyway, the appointment was for 5:30. I got there at 5:20. When I walked in, there in the lobby sat a clan of hillbillies. There had to be at least 23 of them and 9 of them were kids – all of them dressed for pictures. The woman working, who I found out later was the all important manager, asked me:
Manager Bitch: Do you have an appointment?
Stump: Yes. It’s for 5:30.
Manager Bitch: Well, this (she motioned to the clan of hillbillies) is my 5:00 appointment, so it’s going to be a while. Why don’t you walk around and kill some time.
This kind of pissed me off, but knowing that I couldn’t do anything about it, I decided to buy Luke some fruit snacks and maybe run The Method on one or two women. A lovely blonde with great glands for the hands caught my eye and I moved in for the kill. She had a couple of kids running around, so I was able to strike up a conversation with her about them and before long I was programming her number into my phone with plans for a lunch date later this week. Sometimes it’s just too damn easy.
I had managed to kill about 30 minutes, so I paid for my stuff and went back over to the portrait studio. The clan of hillbillies was still there and they were raising hell. The momma/grandmother/aunt was yelling at all the kids and the manager bitch was just laughing. Had I been the manager, I would have kicked them out of the store, but she seemed to be having the time of her life. I got Luke settled in with his fruit snacks and started reading one of the magazines (Cosmo).
One of the hillbillies was sitting across from me. She was quite rotund with a bad haircut and she had rotten little nubs for teeth. I would look over at her and she would smile at me and then look away. I could tell that she was creaming herself by just looking at me, but the thought of that made me want to puke right there in the floor. Some of the hillbilly kids would run out of the studio and come over to where Luke and I were sitting and want to touch Luke. I was scared he was going to catch scabies or something far worse from these dirty little shams so I would push them away with the magazine. They didnt seem to like this much and started hurling toys in my direction. Luckily, before I had to smash one of their inbred little faces in, the husky hillbilly that wanted me stepped in and got control of the little mongrels.
An hour later, they were finally finished. It was at this time that I found out the manager bitch was the only one working. It’s Christmas time, so, of course, many, many people want to get pictures made and they have one person working? What a damn joke.
Luke was throwing a fit because he was tired and hungry, so the pictures were not going to be good and I was pissed. I mean, this isn’t a damn doctor’s office; it’s a freaking portrait studio. I am of the opinion that if you make an appointment at a portrait studio you should be able to walk in at your appointment time, have your pictures made and be on your way.
Manager bitch walks in and says:
Manager bitch – I’m sorry. This has been a busy day.
Stump - (my anger would not let me hold back) Yea, its Christmas time. To me, it looks like your stupid manager would have more than one person working.
Manager bitch – I am the manager.
Stump – Well, you should have more than one person working. This is one of the most wobber-jawed (one of my dad’s words) operations I have ever seen.
Manager bitch – Let’s just get the pictures made.
She then snapped one picture of Luke. At that time, some woman came in wanting to pick-up her pictures and manager bitch goes off to help her. Well, I just snapped, so I grabbed up a screaming Luke, cussed out manager bitch loud enough that the midget Wal-Mart greeter came in to see what was going on and then I stormed out.
When I got Luke home, I told Jana about my sordid plight expecting some sympathy from her and instead of sympathy, she takes this as an opportunity to tell me how bad of a father/person I am. As she is doing this, I notice what I’m pretty sure is some cum-crust on the corner of her mouth. It could have been doughnut glaze as she claimed, but I used that as my opening to point out her many faults. She grabbed Luke from me and put him in his bed while we continued to defame one another.
As one slam rippled into another something started to happen; this put-down battle was turning us on. As Santa Claus Comes To Town played on the tv, I had Jana bent over the back of her couch and was beating her brakes off. I realize I was probably getting sloppy seconds, maybe even filthy fourths, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I really wanted to hurt her. I pulled out a chunk of her hair, smacked her ass around and called her every dreggy name I could think of and she loved every single minute of it.
I’ve had all kinds of sex, but this was a first for me. I have never hung one on a girl that I hate so much, and, honestly, it was probably the best sex I have ever had. There was no kissing; no hugging, just hate filled fornication that really served no purpose at all.
Once we were finished, neither of us knew how to act. As I was pulling my pants up, Jana offered me some hot coco, but I told her I needed to leave. She picked up her panties and said: Close the door on your way out. I’m still confused as to how I should feel about this.
I didn’t dump her over the fact that she had been a whore. I decided I could live with that, but the fact that she had clued me into her dark secret gave me way too much ammunition to not use. Plus, she made the mistake of thinking that my house was her house which was cool with me, but she started bitching about some of my living habits and that was not cool. It’s my damn house and if I want to leave a dirty towel on the floor, I’ll leave a dirty towel on the floor, or, if I want to leave a dirty dish in the sink, I’ll leave a dirty dish in the sink.
When she would start in on me about trivial shit, I, of course, would have to bring up the fact that she had been a whore. The first few times I did this she would just go to another room and cry, but eventually she couldn’t take my insults and we decided to go our separate ways.
Yesterday, Jana called me and said she had made an appointment for Luke to have his picture made at Wal-Mart. She said something had come up at work and she couldn’t take him. Maybe she considers greasing her boss’s pole, who, by the way, is a highly respected pediatric dentist with a wife, “work”, but I just consider it her being the tally-whacker loving whore that she is.
Anyway, the appointment was for 5:30. I got there at 5:20. When I walked in, there in the lobby sat a clan of hillbillies. There had to be at least 23 of them and 9 of them were kids – all of them dressed for pictures. The woman working, who I found out later was the all important manager, asked me:
Manager Bitch: Do you have an appointment?
Stump: Yes. It’s for 5:30.
Manager Bitch: Well, this (she motioned to the clan of hillbillies) is my 5:00 appointment, so it’s going to be a while. Why don’t you walk around and kill some time.
This kind of pissed me off, but knowing that I couldn’t do anything about it, I decided to buy Luke some fruit snacks and maybe run The Method on one or two women. A lovely blonde with great glands for the hands caught my eye and I moved in for the kill. She had a couple of kids running around, so I was able to strike up a conversation with her about them and before long I was programming her number into my phone with plans for a lunch date later this week. Sometimes it’s just too damn easy.
I had managed to kill about 30 minutes, so I paid for my stuff and went back over to the portrait studio. The clan of hillbillies was still there and they were raising hell. The momma/grandmother/aunt was yelling at all the kids and the manager bitch was just laughing. Had I been the manager, I would have kicked them out of the store, but she seemed to be having the time of her life. I got Luke settled in with his fruit snacks and started reading one of the magazines (Cosmo).
One of the hillbillies was sitting across from me. She was quite rotund with a bad haircut and she had rotten little nubs for teeth. I would look over at her and she would smile at me and then look away. I could tell that she was creaming herself by just looking at me, but the thought of that made me want to puke right there in the floor. Some of the hillbilly kids would run out of the studio and come over to where Luke and I were sitting and want to touch Luke. I was scared he was going to catch scabies or something far worse from these dirty little shams so I would push them away with the magazine. They didnt seem to like this much and started hurling toys in my direction. Luckily, before I had to smash one of their inbred little faces in, the husky hillbilly that wanted me stepped in and got control of the little mongrels.
An hour later, they were finally finished. It was at this time that I found out the manager bitch was the only one working. It’s Christmas time, so, of course, many, many people want to get pictures made and they have one person working? What a damn joke.
Luke was throwing a fit because he was tired and hungry, so the pictures were not going to be good and I was pissed. I mean, this isn’t a damn doctor’s office; it’s a freaking portrait studio. I am of the opinion that if you make an appointment at a portrait studio you should be able to walk in at your appointment time, have your pictures made and be on your way.
Manager bitch walks in and says:
Manager bitch – I’m sorry. This has been a busy day.
Stump - (my anger would not let me hold back) Yea, its Christmas time. To me, it looks like your stupid manager would have more than one person working.
Manager bitch – I am the manager.
Stump – Well, you should have more than one person working. This is one of the most wobber-jawed (one of my dad’s words) operations I have ever seen.
Manager bitch – Let’s just get the pictures made.
She then snapped one picture of Luke. At that time, some woman came in wanting to pick-up her pictures and manager bitch goes off to help her. Well, I just snapped, so I grabbed up a screaming Luke, cussed out manager bitch loud enough that the midget Wal-Mart greeter came in to see what was going on and then I stormed out.
When I got Luke home, I told Jana about my sordid plight expecting some sympathy from her and instead of sympathy, she takes this as an opportunity to tell me how bad of a father/person I am. As she is doing this, I notice what I’m pretty sure is some cum-crust on the corner of her mouth. It could have been doughnut glaze as she claimed, but I used that as my opening to point out her many faults. She grabbed Luke from me and put him in his bed while we continued to defame one another.
As one slam rippled into another something started to happen; this put-down battle was turning us on. As Santa Claus Comes To Town played on the tv, I had Jana bent over the back of her couch and was beating her brakes off. I realize I was probably getting sloppy seconds, maybe even filthy fourths, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I really wanted to hurt her. I pulled out a chunk of her hair, smacked her ass around and called her every dreggy name I could think of and she loved every single minute of it.
I’ve had all kinds of sex, but this was a first for me. I have never hung one on a girl that I hate so much, and, honestly, it was probably the best sex I have ever had. There was no kissing; no hugging, just hate filled fornication that really served no purpose at all.
Once we were finished, neither of us knew how to act. As I was pulling my pants up, Jana offered me some hot coco, but I told her I needed to leave. She picked up her panties and said: Close the door on your way out. I’m still confused as to how I should feel about this.
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