I was down in New Orleans over the weekend for a friend’s bachelor party (nolook, if you’re reading this post, you were insulting me for attending the bachelor’s father’s tailgate at the OSU game last fall). There were about 15 guys there, most of them single, so pretty much everybody was looking to get laid. I’m happily married, and have never cheated on my wife, so all I wanted to do was party my ass off.
I got there Friday night at about 10. By 10:30 I was out on Bourbon St with a hurricane in hand. A few minutes later I met the group out at a place called Razoo’s and caught up a bit with 5 shots in 5 minutes – I was way behind. By 1AM I was loaded and had a serious itch for some powder. I wasn’t able to get some in time back home, but at the same time I was pretty leery of trying to make something happen in New Orleans. But who knows, I tell myself – might as well keep my eyes and ears open.
Around 4AM a middle-aged man advertises the fact that he’s selling – exactly the kind of situation I know to be a rip-off waiting to happen. I really wanted it bad though, so I took a chance. After each of us was satisfied that the other wasn’t a cop, we found a secluded spot for the transaction. He took out a magnificent rock of an 8ball and shoved a pebble up my nose. Pretty good stuff – I’m in luck! What happened next was some magnificent kind of slight of hand, because he switched the ball of good stuff with barely a gram of total crap while I was counting out $160, making sure to keep my eyes on his hands. Rats – rolled AGAIN. When will I ever learn?
Good news though – some Mississippi fraternity boys came through for us the next night. They were staying in some rooms next to ours at the Royal Sonesta – we had 2nd floor balcony right on Bourbon. They hooked us up with some really outstanding stuff for a fair price. JACKPOT! We hung around watching the parade until 11 or so, getting really blasted, and then headed out to the bars.
Third stop or so we end up at a place with a nice dance floor. Much to my friends’ delight, the ratio in there is decent – girls in general were kinda sparse all weekend, and all the hotties seemed to have men on their arms. Didn’t matter to me as I was only looking for a good time and a lot of eye candy – neither of which were in short supply. For my friends though it was a major issue, and standards were dropping rapidly, in some cases dramatically. LOL.
Anyway, there were a few bachelorette parties going on in there, one of which was pretty small – only 7 girls. Six of them were freakin outstanding – hot hot hot hot hot hot hot. The problem is, they seem totally into a girls’ night, and are giving guys the Heisman left and right. Even when I was single, I had a gift of coming off as totally harmless and innocent, so I decide to give talking them up a shot.
It worked. Pretty quickly, I was all chatty-chatty with all of them, dancing with all of them, making them laugh. It was great – I loved the attention. I especially loved that all the other guys, including my friends, kept trying, kept trying, and kept getting shot down.
So I keep drinking hard, and keep hitting the bathroom. After a while, the hottest among the group starts getting a little touchy with me and asks if I like to party. “That’s a silly question,” I tell her, and explain the details of my situation. She wants to leave right away.
At this point I have no intention whatsoever of cheating on my wife, but am just loving all the attention I’m getting from this ridiculously, truly ridiculously hot girl, so I think to myself, “What’s the harm in hanging out with her a while?” I figure that her friends probably wouldn’t let her go anyway, but if they did, it would be a tremendous ego boost if this girl tries to get on me. And did I mention how much of a great time I’m having? These girls aren’t just hot – they’re a lot of fun too. And this one is the best among them.
Much to my shock, the bachelorette and her friends let the hottest one go with me, saying right in front of me, “Now normally there’s no way we’d split up our group, but we can tell you’re a really nice guy, so be nice and be sure to have her back soon.”
Not a problem, I tell them, but just as we’re walking out the door, I hear a “Hey _____ - get back here!” I’ll spare you the long and boring details of all the drama, but basically one of the bridesmaids had disappeared, and no one knew where she was. The others weren’t going to let us go now, they decided, which I really didn’t mind. Safer that way, and I was having a great time there anyway.
After a while, all the girls, but especially the bachelorette, started getting really freaked out about their missing friend, and they really had no idea what to do. Making phone calls and deliberating about it forever, they considered doing things that would only have made matters worse. Eventually I stepped in to take control of the situation, and put together a plan to find the missing girl without splitting up their group. I was pretty concerned about her too, and thought about how many girls were going to be raped that evening in NO. Pretty sobering thought. Luckily, she wasn’t one of them, as we found her a few blocks away about a half hour later, and she was fine.
When we found her, the b-ette was pissed – for a while, I thought they were going to come to blows. Eventually she’s just like “* this – I’m getting out of here – you coming, Chicago?” (Chicago is me). The hottest one pulls the b-ette aside and tells her about the coke. Totally sober at this point (her friend was missing for hours), her eyes freakin lit up – “OOOOOO – let’s go!!” and me, the b-ette, and the hottest head back to their hotel room.
Up to that point, I hadn’t really noticed the b-ette much. Her face was kind of goofy, and she had all kinds of stupid costuming on over her clothes. When she took that stuff off, it turned out that she has a 10 body too. Not relatively speaking, not beergoggles, no BS – solid 99th percentile both of them body wise, and the hottest is just freakin gorgeous head to toe, with probably the best legs I’ve ever seen.
We got back to their hotel room and dug in – these girls can really party! Much to my delight, the b-ette’s behavior started to change dramatically. She started flirting with me, touching me, and giving me some of the hardest “* me” eyes I’ve ever seen. The hottest was following suit, and I was just totally loving it, playing it cool the entire time, because I had no intention of trying anything. After a while, they started playing this weird game, each seemingly trying to get rid of the other under the guise of normality. A lot of “Are you sure you don’t just want to go to sleep?” or “nyc_hawk, are you hungry – we could go get something to eat – oh ____, you want to go too? I thought you weren’t hungry?” – stuff like that – it went on for hours.
Fearing a serious malfunction of my willpower (it’s almost 7AM and I’m still really blasted), I suggest that we go swimming back at my hotel. I figure that way is a lot safer than sticking around there, plus I’d get them both essentially naked in wet lacey underwear. That would have been a very nice end to the best night out I’ve had in ages. After a lot of the same back and forth games, they agree on my idea.
We’re riding the elevator down, and the hottest rests herself on my shoulders, starts breathing really lustily on my neck, and asks the b-ette, “____, are you sure you want to go?”
The b-ette then leans over my other side, runs her hand over my chest, and says very sweetly, and sorta moaningly, “Umm-hmmm, definitely.” What happened next is really hard to describe, but it resulted in a complete implosion of my willpower, an instant erection, and a U-turn back upstairs. Making an already way too long story very, very short:
Had a threesome. Full sex and oral with both of them, often at the same time. I thought it would be really awkward, but it wasn’t. It was freakin beautiful. Took over 4 hours, came three times, and could have gone four. I was more aroused than I’ve ever been in my entire life - and I was blasted out of my mind. Am I that easy? In a word – no.
Both of them were 21yr old college seniors. Hottest = current SEC cheerleader, and former Miss Teen _______ in her home state. B-ette = 10x better in bed, and a pair of absolutely spectacular, perky, natural D breasts to go along with her perfect tight little body.
100% of this story is true. No BS or fabrication whatsoever. Three morals to it:
1. No matter how much you’re tempted, never buy drugs from a – wait, screw it. I’ll say it, because I’ve never rolled by a white guy - never buy drugs from a black guy on the street. I’ve been rolled each and every time I’ve tried. It’s like 7 times now – you’d think I’d learn my lesson, huh? I’m sure there are plenty of white scammers out there too, but I’ve never run into one. They've all come through for me. If generalizing based on these experiences makes me a racist than so be it. I don't think it does.
2. Say what you will about fraternity guys, but they pretty much always have the best drugs. Those Mississippi guys had a freakin medicine chest of top quality stuff.
3. Never, ever, ever ever ever underestimate the amazing powers of the magic white powder. Sure, I’m good-looking, and I still have some game in me (I’m 30), but come on – this one was pure luck. It never, ever, ever ever ever would have happened without the white stuff around to help those girls (and me) abandon decent judgment and do crazy stuff we otherwise wouldn’t. I feel terrible about it in retrospect, and would definitely go back and change things if I could. But I can’t, and if a threesome with two incredibly hot college girls when I’m 30 is my only case of marital infidelity, I can live with that.
My advice to all you single guys out there – if you find a girl who likes to party (and you do too of course), stay engaged in the situation. Stay committed even if things look bleak. Things have a way of working themselves out when coke is in the equation – it buys you a lot of time. Look at me – I never even remotely sniffed anything like this when I was searching for it practically 24x7 and much better looking, I wasn’t even trying to score this weekend, and I ended up in a freakin Penthouse Letter from 7-10:30 on a Sunday morning.
I'd provide a pic in a heartbeat but I promised not to reveal anything about them that could reveal their identities to people they know. HROT gets a fair amount of traffic from SEC posters - you never know.
ARTICLE 1. There shall be no unsportsmanlike conduct or any act
that interferes with orderly game administration on the part of players,
substitutes, coaches, authorized attendants or any other persons subject to
the rules, before the game, during the game or between periods.
a. Specifically prohibited acts and conduct include:
1. No player, substitute, coach or other person subject to the rules shall
use abusive, threatening or obscene language or gestures, or engage
in such acts that provoke ill will or are demeaning to an opponent, to
game officials or to the image of the game, including but not limited
(e) Obviously altering stride as an unopposed runner approaches
the opponent’s goal line, or diving into the end zone when
PENALTY?Dead-ball foul. 15 yards [S7, S27] from the succeeding