Drunkin Dick Talk

Trojan, Trojan, Trojan…

You might recall that I mentioned Trojan’s name comes from the fact that this guy talked about his dick more than anyone I have ever met in my life. While I stated this in my first blog about him, I really haven’t shared the oddness of this whole dick talk. Let’s start with the simple fact that he just liked to say the word “dick”. While at home, Trojan prefers to walk around in the nude often pointing to his dick and just saying out loud, “DICK”. He would also randomly grab my tits and ass while yelling out “Boobs” “Ass”, as if perhaps I am unaware of the names of these body parts. Now this gets old fast, especially when it is occurring upwards of 10 to 15 times a day. In a half-joking manner, I informed Trojan that I was keeping tally of how many times he talked about his dick or said the word “dick” out loud without real reason to do so. In addition to just announcing the appendage, Trojan also spoke very fondly of his “buddy” and boasted of its size and beauty. At one point I ever so kindly informed Trojan that he was not the only man with a dick of this size. On numerous occasions he would inform me that his “buddy” was a solid 8″ in length. Now while he penis was of a nice size, I never once took out my ruler to confirm this exact measurement. What I will confirm is that I have seen bigger, I have seen smaller but I have never met anyone so enamored with their own cock.

Let’s move on to the dive bar…

At this point I have moved onto tequila (separate tabs of course) and we are sitting in a smoky bar waiting for one of Trojan’s friends to arrive. He is very excited to introduce me to his friend and even says, “You’re really going to like this guy. He is freaky like you.” Freaky like me? Hmmmm…let’s see here, Trojan and I have been hanging out for 4 weeks now. On this particular night, it had been 10 days since we last had sex. I had slept over a few times but he only wanted to cuddle. Well, cuddle and talk about his dick of course. I had attempted to initiate sex and was told that his “buddy” wasn’t feeling very sexual.

Enter Trojan’s friend, let’s call him Pretty Boy. Pretty Boy is a baby face, he is easy on the eyes and looks so very young. Pretty Boy has brought another dude with him and we will call him Ginger. The four of us grab a table and start chatting. Really just Pretty Boy, Ginger and myself are chatting. Luckily I have no problems being a social butterfly and I make lively conversation with just about anyone I meet. Trojan sits rather quietly at the table playing on his phone. A few times, Pretty Boy asks him whats with being on his phone. Trojan replies that he is chatting with someone on Tinder.

Yep, he invited me out for the night and he is openly chatting on Tinder while we are out. Now a few of my girlfriends asked me why this did not piss me off. Let’s face it, I am not looking for someone to make a life long commitment with here. I was looking for a summer fling. I knew from the get go that this dude was not boyfriend material and I wanted to bail after the second time we hung out. But I am glad I gave it a month because STORIES!

Ginger looks at me with shock, I laugh and shrug it off. I tell Ginger that Trojan and I are not really together so it’s not a big loss for me. He offers to buy me a drink and we head to the bar. Upon returning to the table, the conversation turns to sex. Drunk Trojan beings to talk about my boobs which quickly turns into a monologue about how much he misses his first girlfriend’s breasts. The three of us just sit looking at this dude until he realizes that he has gone off on this nostalgic titty tangent from well over two years ago. Trojan looks at us, laughs and out of nowhere changes the subject to his “buddy”. Not only is Trojan now going to boast about the size and beauty of his dick but he is also quick to inform me that he and Pretty Boy have “twin dicks”. The look on Pretty Boys face is damn near priceless. Apparently Trojan is a fan of showing off his dick when drunk and at some point there was a comparison of the two dicks. I can not make this shit up. I also have no real details of how, when or how many times the dicks were compared. What I do know is that Pretty Boy is FAST to inform me that their dicks are far from “twins” because his dick is circumcised.

And there you have it ladies and gentlemen, the night has come to an end. It is 2am, the bar is closing and we have reached a conclusion that Trojan and Pretty Boy do not in fact have twinsie twinkies. We head back to Trojan’s house. I pass out in my dress, I wake up early and get the fuck out of there.

Don’t fret my pretties, there is one more run in with Trojan when we bump into each other a week later for a mere 12 mins in a final farewell.


Plays Well with Others


Tonight we are taking a detour from the amazing night out with Trojan. Don’t worry, we still have a whole night of adventures left with that gem.

As you might recall, Trojan and I were preparing to leave the local sports bar/restaurant to head to a dive bar for the rest of the evening. As I was finishing my last beer, I noticed a guy sitting in a booth behind us. This dude looked so familiar yet I just couldn’t place him. He was clearly out with a girlfriend but he noticed me and we had caught each others eye a few times. I watched him leave the table and head towards the restrooms so of course I followed. As I stood outside the men’s room waiting for him, it dawned on me that I had briefly dated this guy 6 years ago. In that time he had lost a good amount of hair and what he had left was now salt and pepper. I, on the other hand, have been blessed with genes that appear to only improve with age. Fuck, let’s be real, I definitely scored with the good aging genetic but a good few grand helped me perk things up a bit too.  

Annnnyyyyywayyyyy, as soon as he steps out of the restroom he says to me, “I know you from somewhere…” Lucky for me, I lack any filter and get right to the point. I smile, and respond, “Six years ago, we briefly dated and you took me to a swingers bar. We fucked a few times too.” Wide eyed he smiles and says, “Yep, that’s it!” I smile back and immediately turn to walk away as I say, “It was great seeing you.”

Let’s travel back six years…

A friend of mine introduces me to her friend of many years. He is a divorced dad that coaches little league and works as a facilitator for the Red Cross. We text back and forth a bit and decide to meet up for dinner. Initially I am not super attracted to him. He is good looking, just appears older than he is and was sporting a dad bod. As I spend the evening with him, we have great conversation and he is a funny mutherfucker. All in all we end up having a great night of dinner and drinks followed by an amazing good night kiss and plans to meet up again soon. Mr. Dad Bod and I hung out again a few nights later. He invited me to his place where he cooked us dinner. Again the conversation flowed easily and we enjoyed a lot of laughs. The evening ended with me being pleasantly surprised in the sack. Never a bad way to end an awesome night. 

Now let’s fast forward a few weeks. Mr. Dad Bod invites me to a club where he is going to be the DJ for the night. I had no idea Mr. Dad Bod was a DJ! A little shocked, I ask him how long he has been a DJ at clubs. He basically tells me that this is just a gig he is doing for a friend. Him and I will hang out in the DJ booth, I will be able to drink for free and mingle throughout the night. I am kinda excited to see him in this role plus free drinks! I mean, not excited like “happy/pumped up/ready to party” but more excited like “this dude doesn’t look like he can pull this shit off”. 

He picks me up and we head to the club which is over an hour away. We arrive 2 hours before the club opens. 3 hours already invested into this date. It is going to be a long ass night. Mr. Dad Bod starts to set up for the night and I get my first drink. He literally sets up an iPod. An old school era 2000 iPod. Done. He is the DJ. I am going to need another drink and a fuckin miracle to keep my comments to myself right now. 

A FUCKING IPOD PLUGGED INTO SOME SPEAKERS. We got here 2 hours early for that. 

Eventually some people start to trickle in but really the place is dead for the first few hours. There is no dancing, the DJ is really hard at work and these SoCo drinks are going down smooth. At some point I notice a large group of people coming into the door. It almost is like a bus came and dropped off a shit ton of people. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that this is the most eclectic group of people coming through the door. 1/10 are actually dressed like they give a fuck. Most are just in shorts and a t-shirt. At least 50% of them appear to be in their early 40s. About 37.25% of them could have appeared on People of WalMart. I am pretty sure I was sober enough to actually do the math accurately here. 

As I am ordering yet another drink from the bar, I am getting a super weird vibe from a middle aged woman that has sat down next to me. I turn towards her and smile as she says to me, “You’re very pretty, my husband would like to orally please you while I watch.” WAIT. WHAT? No fucking way I heard that correctly. I lean in and say to her, “I am sorry, the iPod is kinda loud. What did you say?” She gestures over to a redneck looking Santa of a man who smiles and waves at me. Again she says, “My husband would love to pleasure you orally while I watch.”  As fucking quickly as is humanly possible, I get up and walk away with complete shock and fucking fear in my eyes. I head over to Mr. Dad Bod to tell him what just happened. He gets the biggest kick out of it and teases me about this super awkward situation. He doesn’t seem the least bit shocked.

I decide to stay close to the DJ booth and keep an eye on the iPod. Never can be to careful you know. As I sip my drink, I notice that people keep walking towards the restrooms. Slowly, more and more people seem to be disappearing back there and not really coming back out. I figure there must be another bar in the back area. At some point a young brunette with librarian glasses approaches me to request a song. Lucky for her, I know how to work an iPod. After I cue her song, she asks me if I want to dance. Well, shit, why the fuck not? Nobody else is dancing, maybe her and I can get the party started. We head out to the dance floor and are having a great time. After a few songs we decide to get a drink. Now the night gets fuzzy…here is what I do know. The librarian kisses me and I am okay with it. Then she asks me if I want to go to the back of the club. As we head to what I think is going to be just another bar area, we turn a corner and enter a LARGE room filled with sectionals. The sectionals are filled with naked people.

Naked people fucking. They are in every position that the imagination can come up with. 1 on 1. Threesomes. Foursomes. You name it. I am frozen in shock. Part of me wants to turn and walk away. Is this really what I am seeing? I must be fucking sheltered because I have been to a lot of clubs, even sat in VIP areas…but I have never been in a room filled with dozens of eclectic folk just going at it all at once. I look around the room and notice there are coffee tables with bowls of condoms, wipes, various lubes, towels…all organized and well stocked. Here is where things get a little fuzzy. I am sure in part to the many Southern Comforts I had drank and in part to being in shock. The librarian assures me that I don’t have to stay but that if I do, it will be fine. Mr. Dad Bod appears from nowhere and takes my hand. My inhibitions fade as we cuddle up on a love seat in the fuck room.  The librarian is gentle, sweet and comforting to me.

I leave the fuck room satisfied. I also leave the fuck room knowing that this will be the last date I go on with Mr. Dad Bod the swinger. Try everything once right? Check it off your bucket errrr fuckit list, right? It was an experience to say the least. It just isn’t the lifestyle I am looking to entertain further. 

Most of the drive home is silent. I am drunk, one of my heels is broken, I left my panties behind, and I really question why Mr. Dad Bod didn’t give me any heads up before. He drops me off at home and I thank him for making sure I got home safely. We end up hanging out once more.

Truth be told, I am glad I ran into him the night I was out with Trojan. I am also glad he was with someone because chances are that if he was alone, I would have tried to go home with him. Mr. Dad Bod repeat? Yeah, I woulda done that. I am still pissed about my heel breaking. 


Friday Night Flop with Trojan

Now I understand that I have been out of the dating game for sometime and I also know that with our 9 year age difference, the dating game might have different rules…

Last Friday night, Trojan texts asking if I want to go grab dinner and some drinks. I put on a cute dress, some make up and do my hair before I meet up with him at his place. When I arrive, he tells me we have to go to the store so he can buy something to wear. Mind you we are heading to a local sports bar for a burger and some beers…this isn’t fancy shit. You can literally roll in with jeans, a fucking shirt and flip flops. 

We head to Bealls where he picks 4 of the same fucking shirt. No joke, a baby blue Columbia shirt in 4 different textures but all the same color. Why the different textures? Does he have sensory issues? Nope. It is due to his profusely sweaty armpits and needs one that won’t show his wet stank. He tells me this…before dinner…

After picking out a shirt he proceeds to the cashier and loads a coupon on his phone. The cashier explains to him that he can’t use the coupon for the shirt he is buying. He then questions why the shirts are so expensive and when will they be having a sale. I can’t help but wonder if the sale is within the next few days will we have to postpone our fancy dinner plans?  This is when I really start questioning my choices and laughing – literally laughing out loud in the store.

We get to the restaurant and find two seats at the bar. As soon as I sit down, Trojan walks away as he sees someone he knows. He doesn’t say a word to me and just leaves to visit his friends. Obviously this night is going to lead to some good stories, so I might as well start taking some mental notes.

As I sit down, I order a beer and a completely inebriated man sits down next to me. I smile at him and explain that I am with someone as I point towards Trojan. Mr. Drunk Ass laughs loudly and says, “Are you serious? You came here with HIM? You know you don’t have to go home with him right?” Just as he is laughing at his own questions, Trojan comes back and says to Mr. Drunk Ass, “It is cool man, we aren’t a couple. Go ahead and buy her a beer.” Well shit, I might as well let this asshat buy my beer. Trojan and I order dinner and he is sure to let the waiter know that we will be on separate checks. I sure hope this fucker has a coupon for his dinner. 

At some point during the super romantic dinner that I have purchased myself at the local sports bar, I get hit in the arm with a coaster from clear across the bar. Earlier I had noticed 3 guys sitting across the bar enjoying drinks and conversation. Now these 3 guys are avoiding any eye contact and looking guilty as hell. I chuckle and tell Trojan that I am going to go see which one of them “lost” their coaster. I stroll to the other side of the bar and inform the guys that if they wanted to buy me a drink, they could have just had one sent over. They laugh and explain that they were aiming at an empty beer pitcher…sure, sure… They offer to buy me a drink IF I do a shot with them. Who am I to turn down a shot? I enjoy an Orange Fizz shot (their choice) and take my beer thanking the guys as I head back to Trojan. We get our checks and Trojan decides that we will head to another local bar for some more drinks. 

Of course I am going to continue with the night…

Thanks for reading! Come back soon for the final Trojan story as it is sure to not disappoint…or will it? 


Does this qualify me as “Cougar Status”?

Urban Dictionary gives a few descriptions for a “cougar” but I feel the one that best describes me states that a cougar is “a real hottie – as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together.”

Enter the Trojan, who was 9 years younger than I. I am calling him Trojan not due to any back door hacking but because this dude talked about his dick more than a condom commercial. I met Trojan at an Adult Trivia night where I had shown up with my date, Yolanda, a very flirtatious blond blow-up doll. I was in rare form on this particular night and was buzzing off some diet coke. I know some say this shit is bad for you but lets face it…we are all going to die so if I can’t enjoy a diet coke when I am out with Yolanda then what is the point of life?

Trojan rolls in with some acquaintances of mine, taking a seat next to Yolanda and myself. I am sure this dude is not exactly sure what he got himself into as he keeps looking at me whilst I dance around giving ridiculous answers to questions about porn stars, sex positions and other adult related questions. Of which I am clearly clueless and horrible at considering I maybe got 2 correct the whole night!

At some point Trojan asks for my number and to add me on SnapChat. I hand the dude my phone because I literally just learned how to use the Snap and have not a fucking clue of how to add someone. The night ends and we all part ways….

The next morning I am laying poolside when I get a notification on SnapChat from Trojan. As we chat back and forth, I cant help but laugh with my girlfriend that this dude has no clue how old I am. Eventually I suggest that I am older and give him a chance to guess…yep, he guesses 7 years younger than I actually am! SCORE 🙂

Rewind and fast forward…we meet on a Friday, we chat most of Saturday and Sunday, we have dinner together on Monday…this dude is definitely not “boyfriend” material but that is not what I am looking for anyway. I figure a fun, younger summer fling that will be good for some laughs and some orgasms. We meet up again on Thursday for dinner and a few drinks. This time at his house…

I am sure there must be some set of rules for this sort of thing – like 5 dates before you fuck or no sex until marriage or whatever it is that people want to make for themselves. Truth is, I need to orgasm and he was packing a large and thick eggplant. So I fucked him…twice…

It wasn’t awkward sex, there was no starfishing on anyone’s part. We clicked, it flowed and our hips moved together in sync. I orgasmed three time that night. All in all, I have no complaints in the fucking department.

Now remember why this guy was donned the name “Trojan” because there will be more on that classy habit later.

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the fucks that shape my life

Welcome to my blog! The idea of writing my stories has been an ongoing joke for a few years. It’s finally time to just put it all out there. This shit can’t be made up and it is too damn funny not to share. We all know that every story has three sides – hers, his and the truth – this blog is my story, my truth. It will be told to the best of my memory and with as much detail as i can provide. I won’t use the names of the guys but I won’t leave out important details that are needed to tell my side. There is no chronological order to my posts, as my brain skips around and I will write about whatever or whoever pops into my head.

We all have stories with chapters that we don’t want to read aloud. This is my outlet to share the stories – the good, the bad, the funny, the sad and the fucked up shit that is out there in the world of dating. Let’s face it, fuckboys are sometimes the least of our problems.