I’m not talking about the terrible Jennifer Garner movie that’s a clear rip off of Big with Tom Hanks. I’m talking about my date tonight with Becky. Before I jump into my rant let me just say she’s a sweet, kind and caring individual that deserves someone better than me.
So what was wrong with Becky, well for starters she wasn’t really my type. She had this cute little girl look that horny Sailor Moon fans find attractive, I guess I don’t have that repressed pedophile gene.
I could look past the looks if she had a stellar personality but the truth is, she didn’t. She was really young and had no direction in her life. Most of our conversation revolved around stuffed animals, Nintendo DS, her tricked out / Bedazzled cell phone (not kidding) and her inability to get out of a dead end personal assistant job.
I felt trapped. I debated running to the bathroom and digging my way out with the spoon I lifted from the table, ala Escape from Alcatraz staring Clint Eastwood. Realizing that it was impossible I turned my attention to the one thing this girl had going for her, an amazing body. I figured I had nothing to lose. Boy was I wrong.
Becky was a saint, a true rookie to the world of sex. I somehow managed to steer the conversation toward favorite position and was shocked to find out she had only tried missionary. Thirty years and missionary is the extent of your carnal knowledge / experience? Jesus, this girl needed help. I almost felt bad for her.
Intrigued and astounded by the fact that someone hadn’t tried I pressed her for more info. Did your ex-boyfriend ever try? Her reply, of course, but I’m not putting that in my mouth! CHECK PLEASE!
Later that night I watched the dirtiest porn on my computer in hopes of getting rid of her saintly / innocent aura.