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Sex Fouls before/after Sex fouls: Its crazy the things for which life prepares you. Once, I was making out with a girl, after an unbelieveable night of truth or dare with a group of girls. All kinds of decadent tawdryness. The kind stuff you read about in Penthouse Forum letters minus the part about the 'unbelieveable fifteen inch cock' because Im involved. And I'm making out with this girl, we've been friends for awhile, and I've been holding her and other girls off at arms length, going through this whole 'There is more to life than sex' and looking down my nose at the culture because sex seems to be the engine that drives us all. The prime motive. So I'm really horny. She blew me. I came in her mouth. But it was no good. My greedy pee-pee wanted the whole enchilada, but she wasn't having any of it. "No." she said,"No, I can't" between breathless pants, stroking my cock. I couldnt relent. I kept trying. I rubbed by cock on her pussy which got her excited. "Don't." she moaned. "I wont put it inside, I'll just rub it around the edge. I promise. She gave in after awhile of that, getting really wet. She gave in, sort of. "You cant, Im on the rag." she said, "I have a tampon in there." I paused, victim of my hormones. "Well, cant you go in the bathroom and take it out?" I asked. "You can...there's a string...pull it out." String? In my frenzy, I thought I felt something. Its not that I didnt notice, its just that I didnt care. So I look between her legs and there was the string. "Pull on it." she said. Im a sick fucker, something of a freak. And really, when the chips are down, and the sex is in my face, I tend to go for it, trample the obstacles and fullfill the prime directive. I am nothing if not a heterosexual man, and lo! The TIME OF MY MATING IS NOW! I tugged at it. It didnt come easy, tough at first and then sort of popped out in a squishy way, all red and soaked with the miracle of non-birth, meses, menstruation, the blood lining of the uterus. Eeeyagh! All went limp. Or sort of limp. My cock seemed to look at me and whimper, struggling to regain its tumenescence, a sort of reproach that said deep inside myself, "Dude, I can't believe you just did that." I made a bleah sort of bleat and put the used tampon on an ashtray on my erstwhile cobbled dorm room table. She lay with her legs spread, still panting, waiting, excited. I thought about it. I almost tried. But I apologized. There was no way I could rationalize putting my buddy through that experience, especially with the fresh grossness of the evidence sitting a mere foot or two away from me and staring at me, smack in my guilty white punnum. What sort of low kicks had I degraded to? She understood and slowly came down from her state of excitation. I got up and threw the bloody evidence into the toilet and flushed. She looked up at me from the bed. In my nakedness, I looked down at her. "Sorry, hunny, but it was just...looking at me." Now then. Later on in life, I was in bed with another girl. A different girl, different sort of girl. We were making out, and she started the same, "No, No. I can't."routine. So I kept pressing. Started my 'rubbing the cock on the outside of her pussy' routine. "I cant," she said. "Why?" "Because I have a tampon in there. Its that time of the month." "Well, at least you didnt say: 'On the rag'." This was the same girl that farted in my face once while I was pulling down her panties to go down on her. "What? Why?" "Never mind. I just dont like it. Saying it...'On the rag'...in bed." "You can pull it out..." she offered. But I didnt even fuck with it. I learned my fucking lesson. "Nope. No thanks." I said, "I think I'll just go to sleep."
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