Cheeky Sweetie

Oh yes. It IS what you think.

I have an extended houseguest at the moment, a dear old friend named Dale.  We go way back to freshman year of high school, and I’ve actually been close with several members of his family, to the extent that our families consider each other family at this point.  He has been very helpful as we (finally) approach The Move..he’s been packing and lifting and he’ll be painting and he’s even agreed to help me with much of the work I want to put into this house in the spring, like flooring and some cheap cosmetic fixes I am desperate for.  (If I can manage to reserve some of my tax refund from all the blogger gatherings I plan on spending it on, heh.)

So tonight I was lounging on my bed with my girlfriend Jessie. Jess is not my GIRLFRIEND, girlfriend, but if I were to swing that way as a rule, she’d be one of my prospects, for sure. In any case, Dale came in and joined us, as did Christian.  We started talking about old times, and one of the most horrifying experiences of my life that naturally also happens to be one of the most hilarious came up…..

I was barely 18, and Dale had literally just celebrated his 18th birthday weeks before.  My brother Mark had always suffered from psychological disorders that caused him to be unable to maintain an independent life for any length of time.  (I have a lot to say about Mark, but I’ll save it for a dedicated post, because he was so, so important to me.)  When he realized he was unraveling, he asked if I could drive him to an inpatient facility in Pinellas County.  Now Pinellas is like the uvula of Florida-it dangles out into the Gulf of Mexico and forms Tampa Bay behind it.  I live about an hour and a half north of where he needed to go, so my mother offered to babysit Christian for the night, and Dale and I picked Mark up to bring him down.

I don’t remember the drive down.  I do remember crying a little when Mark went into those huge metal doors.  When we left I felt like I needed to take my mind off of what he was experiencing, and since I had an overnight babysitter, I suggested to Dale that we go to a club or something; Our newly legal IDs were burning holes in our wallets.  But we nixed that idea, since we weren’t dressed for a night on the town, so as I drove we started brainstorming ideas.  None seemed to be the right idea, until Dale said, “Why don’t we check out one of those adult theatres? Neither one of us has been in one!”  It may have been an unusual suggestion for me to entertain from a male friend, but you have to understand that even to this day, Dale and I have never been anything but 100% platonic.  If people question the ability of a man to be close friends with a woman for any period of time without making advances, I have two decades of friendship with Dale and another friend Josh to prove it is very possible.  I figured, why not? I was curious, too, and I would never go alone, and Dale was someone I could go with, without having to worry about him getting excited and being inappropriate with me.  So we decided to do it.

The first place we went wouldn’t allow women in their theatre, for their own safety.  A good policy, really.  The second did allow women in the theatre, but it was currently broken, and it looked like a total dive.  The third place we went didn’t even have a theatre, but they did have booths.  We had a winner!

I really didn’t know what to expect, but had I had more time to ponder it, I probably would have come up with exactly what the booths were: tiny cubicles with a bench seat at one end and a video screen on the other.  I sat on the bench, close to the channel changing button, and Dale parked himself beside me.  We looked at each other kind of sheepishly and stifled our giggles as our silence revealed the noises emanating from the booths surrounding us.  We heard a chorus of moans from the various channels of movies playing around us, and a rhythmic thudding vibrated the wall on the rear long side of the booth.  Rolling his eyes, Dale reached for the button that started the video feed, and he spent a minute or two cycling through the different niches available…S&M, pregnant women, hairy women, only women, groups, gay men, bisexual men, bisexual women….it was a pretty, um, healthy? collection.

But the wall in front of where I sat was literally no more than three or four inches from the bench, so I was sitting with my feet turned inward, toe to toe, and on top of that, I had Dale’s arm in front of my face since the channel changing button was a little high on the wall.  So I asked him to switch spots with me.  He stood up in the tiny room and backed toward the screen to give me room to move out of my perch.  But as I stood up, I realized that there was something on my left thigh, just under my ass cheek.  I don’t know what I was thinking….I must not have been thinking at all.  Because I put. my. hand. right. in. whatever. it. was.  And the moment my fingers touched it, I knew exactly what was on my thigh.  There are only two things I’ve come across with that specific consistency, and I highly doubted that anyone was whipping egg whites in the adult video booth, if you know what I am saying here.

I pulled my hand away in horror, and looked at it for a moment.

And then I screamed, “Oh My God! I sat in cum!!!!!!”

The thumping of the wall suddenly stopped, and all of the other soft noises we hadn’t even really noticed gave way to just the (mostly) fake canned moans from the videos.  Dale looked at me in disbelief, and, because he knows I am a jokester, he assumed I was just fucking with him.  He said, “Yeah, right!” and almost slid RIGHT into the spot I was sitting.  I reached for him and yanked him away with the superhero powers of a woman who just sat in semen and wanted to protect her friend from the same fate.  He quickly realized I was dead serious and stood as far away from both my thigh and the bench as he could squeeze.

I whispered, “You have to walk behind me so no one sees the big WET SPOT on my ass! Because everyone will think YOU DID IT!”

So we fumbled our way out of the booth and toward the door.  Everything went exactly as planned…..until we approached the exit.  See, Dale is a gentleman.  He opens doors for women.  Even when they are trying to hide the wet spot on their asses as they flee the adult video store.  So, he walked in front of me to the door, and every guy in the store, all of whom were already looking at the novelty of a girl coming from the booth area, saw the gigantic semen stain on my jeans.  If I could just DIE of shame, that would have been the moment Angel truly became an angel.

When we got to my car, I was so disgusted, I literally took my pants off in the parking lot and left them there.  I drove home in my panties, still gagging at the thought of some stanger’s love juice making contact with my delicate skin-especially so fucking close to all my goodies.

So, the next time you come across something gross…just ask yourself if it beats sitting in cum in the adult video booth.  And if it is? Blog it and leave me a link, because I need to read it to believe it.