#hostories

[hochronicles-blog]

CopCock

Now I am a good girl but on this night I was surround by police cars. It’s quite funny now but at the time I wanted to die! So, me and en ex hooked up for a night of partying. Once we got done we wanted to fool around some. We drove around and ended up parking on a dirt road in an abandon houses drive way. Nothing unusual. We both climb into the back seat and things are getting steamy. Perfect plot for the beginning of a horror flick also. Anyway, we make out a while and we do the head thing and then its time to get down to business. Clothes are completely abandoned. We go at it and finish and things are pretty good. We grab the cigarettes and have a couple while we talking listening to the music from the CD player on the car. We have us a drink (Not alcohol at this point) and just chill for about an hour. Once again things start heating up and before long we are back at it. I’m still well within curfew at this point so I am not worried. Again we finish and chill for a while. This time we smoke a blunt and zone out. Not really sure how long we were zoned but once again we start going at it and all of a sudden the CD player starts playing Bad Boys, the cops theme song. I didn’t pay much attention to the sirens that kept getting closer and closer because of the song and I was high as hell. So, there we are. Both butt naked, him on top with his big white ass glaring and about 6 police cars outside with lights going. He jumps off me to grab clothes and he ends up in my shirt with his pants. I end up in just a bra and shorts. I am thinking we are about to go to jail for sure. Drunk, high, parking on private property.So, one officer comes up to the car and knocks on the window and asks for our names. We tell him and he says it’s them. I am thinking this fucker beside me done something and was running from the cops and got me caught up in his shit. Nope. After we were instructed to get dressed, properly, We were escorted back to my house because my mother had reported me missing and it was about 4 hours past my curfew. I have never felt such embarrassment before in my life and doubt I will ever again. Never go parking in a public place people! Never!

[hochronicles-blog]

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[hochronicles-blog]

McManager

So, I was about 18-19. My mom worked at a McDonalds and she had a drop dead gorgeous manager. He was Cuban and around 22-23. Anyway, so I decide to be creative like the awesome bitch that I am. I dialed up the McDonalds and ordered him to be delivered after his shift that night. He got there and we went and got a couple of sodas, some smokes and then went and parked on a dirt road. Now, I am def no virgin at this time but that man had a penis that scared me! It was at least 10 inches and bigger around than a coke can on any given day! /so we are making out and I stick my hand down his pants and felt that monster and I am starting to rethink my menu options quickly. I couldn’t even get my hand around it. Maybe half way? Yea. That’s about right.Anyway, so we get to the point he wants a blow job. I’m just thinking to myself Ho up bitch. You can do this. He’s hot! Nope. I couldn’t even get my mouth around it. I’m talking this mother fucker had a damn arm for a cock! Deformed in my opinion. No dick should be that big! A waste of vital space and if he ever found someone that could get it in her mouth I bet that bitch didn’t do it but once! So, now he wants to give sex a go. I know I had to go completely pale when he said “Lay back” because just the thought hurt! But there I was...Laid out like a freaking slut in the back seat of a car on a dirt road in the middle of the night with a man I only casually knew...And I was terrified of his penis. If there is an equivalent to the fear I felt it would have to be the kind you get when you know you’re about to get hurt but there’s literally nothing you can do to prevent it because you want to finish what you started. Kinda like when I pierced my own belly button (fyi- not a good idea btw!). So, he works me up and i’m bracing myself for the big plunge. It wouldn’t go in. There was no way he was fitting that thing in me. When he finally realized this after about 10 attempts I am so relieved when he zips up and says it wouldn’t work. I get my clothes adjusted right and crawl back into the front seat and sit there smoking a much needed cigarette after my near death experience. No woman should ever be that terrified of a fuckrod. It’s just not right. Finally I tell him I am ready to go home and he drops me off. I was living in the country at this time and my drive way alone was about half a mile long. Woods all the way down with just a path big enough for one vehicle to comfortably drive thru. No phone at the time. This was before the smart phone craze. (Yes, I am that old, shuddup!) Anyway, so I am walking at a very brisk pace and I hear the bushes moving. I stop, look around, wait and listen for more sounds. Nothing. So I start walking again and come to the gate. We had cows and we had to keep them fenced in and had a gate that we locked with a padlock nightly or if we all left the property at the same time. So here I was. Standing there in front of the gate. It was already locked. I am extremely short and plump to say the least so climbing over the gate wasn’t an option I wanted to try. I found a space in a decently clear area and begin crawling under a portion of the barb wire. I felt my belly and then my knees hit something slimy and I figured I had crawled thru mud. I make it back into the property and walk up to the house. As soon as I get into my room I turn on the light and that’s when I see it.Cow shit from my chest to the bottom of my shoes. I start gagging. I grab and hold a change of clothes out from my stinking body as I haul ass to the bathroom for an emergency shower. Gross! I get out the shower and dry and get my clothes on. I sit down at my computer and check my yahoo messages and McManager wanted a redo the next night. I told him no thanks. I’d had a pretty shitty time and didn’t want to chance it again. I never explained what I meant.

[inhangoverland]

Stalking and Centipedes

I believe it was early to mid March, not quite spring, although the Texas heat would suggest otherwise. As per usual, I had been talking to guys on Tinder and going on dates maybe once every week or two. It was kind of boring, to be honest. After that night with 007, I was kind of disappointed in my lack of thrilling tales of strange dates. That is, until I met “Tom.” 

Tom seemed, well, nice, as I was getting to know him. He was a student at the local university, devout christian, and regularly did volunteer work over seas. Honestly, I thought he was total “settle down” material, but for some reason I agreed to go out with him even though that was the opposite of my goal. I mean, his name was Tom. Boring Tom. He wore khakis and studied bugs. He was about as interesting as a pair of beige curtains. Nonetheless, he was nice. So I agreed.

The time comes for our date, and he asks me what time I’m picking him up. Immediately, I’m annoyed. My car wasn’t drivable at the time, and I thought it was rude for him to assume I’d drive 30-45 minutes to where he stayed at his dorm without even asking me. Anyway, I tell him the situation with my car and suggest that we just hang out some other time.

He wouldn’t have it. This dude seriously suggested that he just walk to my place from where he is, which is like a total of two hours in the heat. Of course, I tell him no, but he persists. So I’m just like “okay whatever, dude.”

He shows up about two hours later, and I greet him with a gatorade because I’m a nice person, but then I realize that I’ve fucked up. There was no way I was going to trek all the way into town with this poor, sweaty bastard, and then sit down in a restaurant to have lunch while I, too, look like a poor, sweaty bastard. Nope. There also wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d invite this person I haven’t met before into the home I was living at with my cousin and her small children. Nope. Nope. Nope. I pull a bitch move and suggest the nature trail near my house.

Sorry not sorry, Tom.

During this entire “date,” all this dude talks about is bugs. He tells me about the difference between a centipede and a millipede, and what the real name for a rollie pollie is with the enthusiasm of a teenage boy who thinks he’s going to get laid. Like ”Oh yes, bugs are so sexy. Take my panties off right now in this forest!” Come on, man. I’m not exaggerating either, this dude really loves his bugs.

Other than his social ineptness, I somehow start to really dig this guy. I mean, he was physically attractive and super polite. So when he leans in to kiss me, I let him, and I’d be lying if I said we didn’t roll around beneath the trees a little bit. However, I did find his eagerness to trek this far a tad creepy, and I didn’t love bugs enough to let it continue any further. After he left, I cut him off.

It probably wasn’t the most polite way to handle it, but it was my way. I just blocked his number, removed him from snapchat and went on about my life as normal without having to do the whole awkward confrontation thing. 

I know, I know.

I’m terrible.

I know.

Anyways, so a week or so passes and I get a message on Tinder. It’s from Tom. He wants to know why I changed my Tinder bio. I was a little creeped out that he felt entitled to creep my profile and then confront me about it, but instead of dealing with the situation I just unmatched him.

Everything went back to normal, for a month or so.

Then, I get a message from him on Facebook. I had never added him or told him my last name, so how he came across me was unknown. This time, he wanted to know how I was doing in the town that I was visiting. I hadn’t told him or posted about it. I simply told him to fuck off, blocked him, and haven’t heard from Bug Boy since.

On a side note, unless you want to queef a sandcastle, don’t have sex outdoors. Especially if there’s dirt nearby. It will find you. I promise.

[marisolvgs]

Cuestión de tiempo

Sólo nos queda menos de una semana, en donde la presión nos absorbe más y nuestro orgullo hace que no crucemos las miradas y por su puesto, menos las palabras. Muchos me han aconsejado que hable contigo, que tengo que expresar el amor que siento hacia ti, pero, sabes lo que pienso? Que no tiene caso, pues sólo tus actitudes me hacen confundir más, me hacen pensar que ya no soy tan especial como lo era antes; ni hablar, me estoy acostumbrando a tenerte tan cerca pero tan lejos, te quiero mucho, sólo espero que te des cuenta de eso!