Quote:
Originally posted by Did you just call me Coltrane?
I don't think so. If you've slept with a REALLY hot girl, and your buddies say "man you're lucky -- I'd love to fuck her", the normal response is "trust me - nothing to write home to mom about - she was a terrible lay"...In fact I've heard this quite frequently.
Unfortunately you really can never tell. Mild-mannered Susie could be a fuck-beast, while drinking, smoking hot Tara could lay there like a stiff board...
In fact, it's usually the cute but not uber-hot girls that absolutely go ape-shit in the sack.
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Truest statement ever. I had this totally dowdy but attractive chick on my freshman hall in college. no one knew her. No parties, no sorority rush... she barely came out of her room. Then her bf came up and visited and she fucking banged like a wild boar all weekend. It sounded like he was trying to tickle her intestines or something. Blood-curdling shit...
Worst ever on the "pick up a hottie" front was this chick I met in DC. She was totally put together and wired on the hill and all business. She seemed like a total vixen in the sack. We get drunk, go back to her place and start fucking around and I take off her panties and find a bush as big as Little Caesar's personal pizza! I couldn't figure this shit out... her clothes were impeccable, her place was fantastic, her body was great, but her bush was stuck in 1971... and since I'd committed, I had to go down on her. I thought I was going to choke... when we finally started fucking I kept coughing because it felt like I'd swallowed an Irish wool golf sweater. I totally "phoned it in" that night. The next morning when she went to the bathroom she busted me checking out the jungle. I said "I was admiring your ass" but what i really wanted to say was "Goddamnit... you should've warned me you wear a mirkin... from all indicators I figured you totally shaved." We had sex again anyway and it was better the next morning because at that point all the wool previously in mouth had slid down into my stomach and I could breathe freely. The moral of this digression was "a hottie can be defective under the packaging in a variety of respects."
S(I think of her every time my cat yarfs a furball)D
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