Mr. Porn 'Stache
Back in school I was introduced to a cool guy named Mr. Porn ‘Stache (he had a solid grow, it was red and surprisingly sexy), who was in love with my friend Sony (she had a boyfriend), but we made out one night in her car and he was the first guy who tasted like truffles, my favorite. It was as if I could not get enough of the inside of his mouth. The more I kissed him the hungrier I got for more kissing. It was phenomenal.
I have since been obsessed with a truffle-enhanced pheromone taste. And it ruined me a little, because now I don’t enjoy making out with any guys who don’t taste like truffles. I’m lucky to find one every year or two. I can name everyone I’ve met who has it in him.
Years later, Sony called me to ask me to be the maid of honor in her wedding (same boyfriend) and I was honored. Mr. Porn ‘Stache sent me an email to let me know that he would not bring a date and should I also decide to ride solo, he’d love to accompany me. I accepted and we spent the entire weekend making out. Every photo from the wedding shows me with painful chin-burn, but I wore it with pride.
I will forever remember my introduction to the truffle taste, and still actively seek it out, but Mr. Porn ‘Stache has since gotten married to a girl with an enormous tattoo around her neck, so I probably dodged a bullet on that one.