OUR BODIES OUR JUNK LOSERS

The winning entries in the Sex: Our Bodies, Our Junk giveaway were some of the nastiest, most depraved acts we’ve ever had emailed to us by complete strangers. Good job, degenerates. The other entries however, also shared very intimate acts of carnal lechery with us and the entire internet, and their authors didn’t even get a book out of it. On the bright side: One of you has apparently stopped doing drugs, and judging by the misspelling and typing mistakes we had to clean up in these, the others should probably follow his lead.

1) The most ridiculous sexual act I have ever committed happened during the honeymoon phase of a relationship that telegraphed its eventual horrible demise from the outset with a series of amusing vignettes. Of course, it all seemed normal at the time. Anyway, early in the relationship the ex-to-be lured me to a nearby park with pie, and being a fat stoned dyke I was all, “OH BOY, PIE!!!” We ate pie and gazed into each other’s eyes all high on sex juices. Then we realized we were both full of pie and had half a pie left over and this vicious gleam came into our eyes. Before we started fucking we were drinking/bad-idea buddies. One thing led to another. We went back to my place and got naked and threw the fucking pie down on the basement floor and wrestled around in it and had extremely enthusiastic pie-smeared hilarious “bro we totally used to be friends and are gay in love” sex.

The punch line is that I dated her way longer than I should’ve, in part because DUDE, I would say to people trying to talk me out of this horrible relationship, WE TOTALLY FUCKED IN A PIE.

-BF

2) When I was four or five, I moved to a new neighborhood and the girl next door would come over and we’d spend hours in bed together playing a game we made up called “Santa Clause.” What this entailed was we’d hump the shit out of each other, taking turns getting on top (aka “coming down the chimney”). It was weird—it felt good, but obviously since neither of us had reached puberty it was anti-climatic and awkward.

Kinda pathetic, I guess. I could tell you about the time my cousin molested me or I jerked off to my friends having sex on acid (me, not them). But seriously, why did you want to hear me tell this story? I have motivation for telling it, but do you really feel better as human beings knowing my dark secrets?

For posterity, yes, I lost my virginity when I was 18 and so far that’s the only girl I’ve screwed. I came close to a second chick once, but ended up throwing up all over her apartment, passing out on the floor (did I mention I was drunk?) with her topless next to me and ended up never speaking to her again. I’ve kind of given up on sex since then. It’s rarely something I want to look back on.

-JO

3) OK…here it goes…I was 17, kicked outta my mom’s house, living with my friend whose parents were cool, and you know when I say cool, I mean the dad was a total, gallon-of-Carlo Rossi-a-night-passed-out-in-his-undies-in-the-kitchen-every-night kinda guy, the mom was completely withdrawn–the kind of house where you smoke cocaine all night, no problems. So, the sad story goes like this: I’m at my buddy’s house (Dan), we’ve been running those 30 mg tabs of morphine all night and I get the phone call…It’s ANGELA…the hot-ass-cool-as-hell-couple-of years-older-chick who lives down the street. She’s the one I fantasize of hopelessly…that’s why it’s a fantasy…cause I’m younger, drug addled, insecure, and I know it’ll never happen…whatever. So she calls and says “Greg, I want to fuck you tonight. I’m coming to pick you up.” So, I’m high, I’m ready, we drive to her friend’s house and there is literally a fucking ounce of coke in a mountain of a pile on the kitchen table and some dude and his girl…that’s it. And so I’m like, what’s the occasion and he’s like it’s my birthday, and so we party…we leave and go over to some other chick’s house and I’m so fucking high, out of my gourd, a bit fucking nervous, and we are in this bedroom and there’s a record player and some random records one of which was NINA…and I was trippin out over it, playing “99 Luftballoons,” nervous, and there’s this coked-up goddess sprawled on the bed ready to fuck and I’m nervous I guess because I’m not humping her yet and I’m pulling a Tom Waits tape out my pocket, probably Bone Machine, really just wanting to listen to music or something. Finally I spider crawl my way to the bed…and whatdya know, I’m nervous…maybe it was the morphine, maybe it was the coke, whatever. An hour of her oral coercions yielded no results. Snake charmer as she was, and however dedicated…my dick was limp. She felt bad, I felt bad. I retreated to the bathroom, worked on myself with some peach scented smelly lotion stuff, and SUCCESS!! I ran to the bed and we humped for a couple of hours before we took a break then my chi never returned. I woke up the next day and she drove me home and that was it really. We’re still friends after that. Through the years I ran away and moved away but we always kept in contact, then she got married and disappeared. I loved that girl, Angela Ward, thank you for the answered prayers, sorry about my drug problems but never again would I let them give me such dick problems. Fucking drugs, ruining my dreams through all the years. I’m seven months clean today, 29 years old, and tired of fucking up…but it was all worth it…sometimes.

-GS

4) So, here’s my lovely little story that’ll hopefully fucking win me this book:
I was 17. There was this chick I had known for a year that was insanely easy. All you had to tell her was that you were into her, and she’d suck on your member. Well, I was bored as shit and horny as fuck, so I decided to give her a ring. She said for me to come over and hang out with her. I got dressed and headed out that door as quick as I fucking could. I wanted my cock sucked. So, I get over there and I’m just chilling on her bed, waiting for her to unzip my jeans and attack my cock.

Oh yeah, forgot to tell you.

She’s a bit on the chubby side. Anyways. She gets underneath the blanket, after some bullshit talking, and unzips my jeans. I’m not even that turned on, she wasn’t even attractive, i just wanted head. I only have a half-boner. She sucks on it anyways. She sucks on it for two minutes and then calls it quits. I ask her why I can’t just come in her mouth, and she bitches about how it tastes bad.

Whatever. So I go down her jeans and go to finger her cunt. The only way I can describe the way that pussy felt is two pieces of warm ham, lightly touching each other with the ham juices running everywhere. I fingered her and quickly got the fuck out of there.

So, I got blue balled and touched the grossest cunt ever. Oh yeah, and afterward she told everyone in our social circle that my cock was small. That’s what happens when you mess with whores.

Thanks for reading, even if I don’t get that book. Hope you enjoyed. Got plenty more if you want me to write some more.

-RF

5.) I was having sex doggy style and pulled out. When I pulled out a white substance the consistency of cottage cheese also came out. The girl was too stupid to know that she had been carrying a yeast infection for quite some time. I immediately gagged and withheld throwing up, got dressed, then left.

-SE

6.) When I was 14 I thought nothing about sex, just that it would be cool to get some. Unfortunately, the girls who went to my school were either really ditzy, stuck up, or sheltered. And I grew up in LA, not the valley, the beach cities, or any of the surrounding suburbs. It was really difficult for me to romanticize any of them, particularly because I wasn’t into chola or reggaeton girls. I didn’t run into any good looking girls in the street or on the bus either–it was really frustrating. I wasn’t trying to get my hopes up. At some point I decided to attend more events around town and the outlying counties with my friend who had a car. I stayed away from metal shows because usually no girls went to those. It was really sad–but I went to these shows that had all kinds of alts, emos, scene peeps, ravers, and other sub cultures showing up. I started dating different girls, worlds different from the ones where I grew up. Eventually, after some trial and error I got laid for the first time (suburban girls in my experience seem to have a higher sex drive, must be a boring existence in suburbia that heightens it).

Here’s where it gets strange. I met this girl in a backyard show that a couple hardcore and electro bands were playing (can’t believe people still dig that, pssst, silly suburbanites). She had brown hair and her eyes were blue like icicles, the kind people say are just hypnotizing but really remind me of Chucky and make me want to poke them. She had decent sized tits and was skinny and as tall as I was back then, she had that look that the girls at FIDM (some design school close to where I live in Downtown LA) developed during the years I was abroad, she was somewhat eclectic, and had a bunch of chains around here neck as I remember. She also smelled really sweet, kind of like a mix between tangerines and apricots. I don’t say much to girls that would make me think they would want to jump behind the bushes or in some bathroom stall and have me all up inside their coochie, but it happens. I guess my talking about the environment, wacky friends, and my adventures appeal somehow. I was telling her something about how fantastic I thought the idea of using synthesizers in music was and that a few years from then (this was in 2002) everyone was going to be doing it in indie music, so she just grabbed my face and kind of slammed my head into the fence I was leaning against and took me to her friend’s car and we had sex for like an hour or so.

But as we sat there I felt strange, my head started spinning and my stomach felt displaced. So I ran out of the car (I had clothes on), got behind a dumpster and….I blew chunks (bwah!). I barfed till it hurt, and until the pain started to make me laugh. When I got back to the car she asked if I had thrown up, and of course I played it cool and said, “Oh no, I just went to catch my breath,” and we made out (I wonder if she tasted my bile, it must have tasted nice because she kissed me passionately, if I remember right). I would have thought that this was OK if it was a one time occurrence. Turned out however that every time we did the deed I would throw up–behind a corner, behind a fence, behind that place that has the ginger clown as their mascot, and in her bathroom. I still haven’t figured out why this only happened with her. She didn’t smell bad, she didn’t taste bad, yet it happened every time. She was way relaxed about it I suppose. I always ran out of the room or wherever, it was hard to hide after the first few times.

-PA

6.) So I was going down on this girl who ended up being my ex-wife. About 10 minutes in she is really into it and bucking, being loud, when I feel a sneeze starting to come on but I manage to stifle it. Right when I’m really deep in there it comes out, albeit muffled, but snotty as hell. I think about it for a few seconds and decide to stop, at which point she asks why. “I just sneezed and it’s pretty bad. Don’t look, I’ll get a towel.”

“Huh…I thought I was just really wet.”

-RB