The Sleepy Dick…

…And the exhausting hand-job…

Ola bitches! After being away for a month my skin matches my lungs, in colour and health… I’m flying back tomorrow so it’s time to fill you in on my Spanish excursion. Now considering our nations history of war-ing, I was hoping for more conquistadors invading my body (that sounded sexier in my head). There have been offers but I’ve already had my fill of forty years olds this year… I’m still waiting for my knight in shining armour but whilst I’m waiting you’ll have to settle for the story of the sleepy dick (that’s metaphorical and literal).

My trip began with the horrible realisation that I’d be the awkward single one. I wasn’t just third wheeling I was ninth wheeling! We played Mr and Mrs tonight and my awkward partner was gin, he’s the silent type but I always have a good time *wink*. When this many couples group together the single person initially gets the same puppy eyes you’d give a cat about to be euthanized. By mid-week I’d become the premier smuggler for naughty drinks and hidden cigarettes, a true friend. The second a boyfriends back was turned I was yanked behind a tree and accosted for smokes, the price being gossip. The final downside (although masquerading as a Mexican drug lord was fun) was the constant, insistent, match-making. Being the lone planet orbiting the couple singularity meant that every man was given an invitation to my non existent pity party.

“Sam what about this guy, sure he has a soul patch but I’m sure it’s ironic.”

“Sam what about this guy, sure he has a wife but your prettier than that toad…”

“SAM! What about this guy?! He has a pulse!”

“SAM! DID YOU KNOW YOUR STILL SINGLE? I WASN’T SURE BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T TRIED TO FIX THAT!”

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The response every time I walk past a man without pouncing…

 

 

To assure my partnered prison masters that I wasn’t trying to become a nun, I knew I’d have to have sex with a stranger.

Top Tip #12: Have random sex for other peoples benefit, you can’t be happy but someone else could be!

I was in one of the bars drinking a gin and tonic, which in Spain only comes in sizes XL to “Ready for Rehab”, when my first opportunity arose. He was in his mid thirties, very tanned and fairly attractive (‘fairly’ is still better than most of the guys I date). I’ve come to expect baggage at my tender age of twenty-four, I lug around a cute carry case of crazy myself. This man however had a big suitcase with the words “can my mate join in?” on the front… Its turns out Spanish Bar Man (that’s all I got on him guys) was out to have a threesome that night! Now I’m not one to shame threesomes, I once was involved in a foursome so I’m far too ‘sexually independent’ (slutty) to judge. The issue with threesomes  -much like Monopoly- is that someone will get pushed out early. To quote the Sparks, “This town ain’t big enough for the both of us!” town here being a metaphor for my body (but don’t feel bad if your town can accommodate two men, a small carnival and a gypsy camp, just don’t touch me). I’m bad enough at juggling small talk at a party, let alone the intricacies of two penises…

Businessteam at a meeting
“Do you cum here often?”  

 

 

Needless to say, I didn’t follow up on that opportunity… When I did finally have sex on holiday a third party did get involved though (just look at me building tension). “How?” you ask, well I’ll tell you in a second guys! I met this man who was just my type, an absolute emotional wreck. He was thinner than Hank but still a smidge chunky. Call me Goldicocks because I’m downsizing men to find one that’s juuuuust right (I think I just threw up in my mouth a little). In the tradition of crappy monikers here at SSM, we’ll call him… Teary. Teary was by no means the Spanish Lothario I was hoping for, but then again, when do I ever get what I want?

We went back to his place after a night of drinking enough gin to tranquillise a small nation, the perfect shape to be in before sex… Initially we had a chat about the nature of the universe which in hindsight was nowhere near as intelligent as it seemed at the time. In depth philosophical talks are second only to scrabble in the sexy fore-play department and I promptly passed out on his bed.

Top Tip #134: If your in a dry spell, put yourself in a position to sexually assaulted

I woke up to him kissing my face, consent could be an issue but both of us were smashed and I just wanted to have sex (it bears repeating that I am NOT a role model). Now comes the obligatory penis talk… For once it was actually great, quite possibly the biggest I’ve seen! Unfortunately Teary’s emotional issues were the same size as his dick, we were in the throws of drunken sex when he suddenly stops, walks to the bathroom and starts crying.

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WHY AM I CURSED?!

 

 

This is now the third man to break down after being inside me, I’m the sexual equivalent of spending a night in a haunted insane asylum. It transpired that Teary has a girlfriend, which is absolutely great. Quick shout-out to Teary’s girl, sorry I banged your boyfriend.

Top Tip #49: Always be polite…

I have already expressed my views on sleeping with people who have partners. To add a caveat to those, if you are going to cheat be man enough to finish the job (there’s no need for everyone to feel betrayed). Teary emerged from the bathroom looking… teary, so I kindly suggested we forget the whole thing and go to bed.

“I don’t see why we can’t finish, maybe no more sex though…”

Hearing that was just as disappointing as watching X-men Last Stand, but much like that two hour visual abortion, I sat through to the end… The capstone to this pyramid of misery came right at the end, whilst I was giving the most unenthusiastic hand-job this side of a brothel. Teary fell asleep, right there, with my hand wrapped around his dick.

Stewie_gun_mouth_super
“At least Hell will be less depressing than this…”

 

 

I was quite honestly relieved, he was taking ages but I suppose most of his mental effort was tied up in STAYING AWAKE. I’m chalking this up to the sea of gin in our systems, otherwise I’d of slapped the dick to wake the bastard up. I slid out of his bed, collected my clothes and left this mistake where it belongs, 700 miles away from me. I did have an awkward phone call the next day where he cried some more and asked if I’d keep it secret. Teary I have no idea where you live, short of posting an e-fit of your face all over Spain with the words “did I sleep with your boyfriend?” Its not going to get out.

So my weeks been great, thanks for asking. My total of guys who’ve cried increased and my total of guys who’ve fell asleep doubled (to save you doing the maths, that’s two men)… I promised I’ll get more regular with the posting guys, but much like a fine restaurant, I need to have the food in season to sell it, food here being dick.

Join me next time for some fun updates on the locals, in which I find out that Bruce has read the blog and I try my hand at craigslist. Spoilers, craigslist is a dark and terrible place populated by an ocean of sexual monsters in your area!

Stats:

Exercise: I went to a wedding and small talk should be an Olympic sport with the amount I awkward sweat.

Cigarettes: Are good for you right? Oh my god they’re not?! Now I feel silly…

Emotional Level: The only thing level about my emotions is the amount of Valium I’ll have to start taking to smooth them out.

Dates: One with the local pharmacist, I’m buying an adrenaline shot so that the next time a guy falls asleep I can wake them up Pulp Fiction style.

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