E R N I E ' S   H O U S E   O F   W H O O P A S S

Sometime in the spring of 91, back when I was dedicating my life to sludging through college while partying as much as I could, I went out one weekend with a couple of buddies to a local pub. It was the same story that still gets playyed out every weekend across this great land of ours. Get together with some friends, see who can drink the most, and hope that you'll find a girl willing to let you score that night.

We were shooting some 8-ball, and I scratched, which is a bad thing in my little circle, since it meant I had to buy a round of drinks. Yeah, I know, another dumb drinking game, but it serves it's purpose.

While I was at the bar placing my order, a tasty young treat caught my eye, so I stroll over and strike up a conversation, the usual awkward small talk about knowing everyone and how dumb my buddies are.. New in town? Never seen you before. Come one over and join us, we don't bite.

So, I buy the drinks, plus one more for the little lady and head back over, with someone more interesting in tow. She sits there and laughs at our dumb jokes, drinks my booze and enacts the obligatory 'can you teach me to play pool' drama. Well, I never pass up an opportunity for closer contact, especially when it is invited so openly, so the lesson begin, with the occasional dry hump to test the waters. Lucky me, the waters are warm and looks like I'm coming in!

The games last for a couple of more racks before she suggests that I come back to her place and stay a while. Good news! I don't even have to clean up the mess in the morning. At this point, I think I am in love.

So I bid my buddies farewell with that certain smugness a guy gets when he knows that the folks he is leaving will not be getting any that night and well, I will. They give the knowing smiles and well wishes and catcalls that every guy gives to disguise the envy they are feeling. You know what I mean. How many times have you ever been genuinely happy that another guy is going to get laid? Except for maybe if the guy is a tard, and then you sit back and talk about what a sick fuck the bitch that is going to bone him is.

A few minutes later, we are at her place, sucking down her suds and trying to remember each others names. I had already forgotten,( and since have again ) and not wanting to look bad, asked for her to write down her number for me. Seemed like a good idea at the time, and she did put her name on the paper which got me off the hook. I returned the favor, and a couple of minutes later she was using my name as well, so I felt a little better about forgetting.

The usual discussions went on about likes and dislikes and meandered it's way to what we did and did not like in bed. I always thought I was clever with that, since it made it so much easier to suggest what to try. Turns out that she liked, no, absolutely loved it doggy style. So, I suggested that we give it a go and a few minutes later I have her bent over that couch calling my name out loudly. I have a good buzz going, so I know I will last a while and just start ramming as hard as I can to give her a ride to remember.

Then everything in my world went wrong. I feel something not quite right down there tickling the top of my bone. So, I let go of her tits and straighten up to get a better look. To my horror, I see something that looks like worms hanging out of her ass onto my cock. I did what any man would do in that situation. I froze and screamed like a little girl.

If I didn't make it clear enough, there were worms coated with shit hanging out of her ass and dragging up and down my cock with every stroke. Fucking worms!

I ran for the kitchen and grabbed a fistful of paper towel and try desperately to clean my johnson. Meanwhile, she is following behind blubbering something about being so sorry and that she thought that it was all cleared up. She was crying hard and had snot running out of her nose and as far a I knew parasites still peeking out her ass.

I hit the freak out stage and start dressing as quickly as I can while screaming what a dirty fucking bitch she is and how I never want to see her fucking ass again. On the way out the door I grabbed my phone number and shoved it in my pocket. I don't think I went the speed limit all of the way home and stayed in the shower well after the water had turned cold.

Next afternoon, I get a call from one of my buddies wanting to know how things went with the new girl. For a few seconds, I thought about giving him the phone number. Instead, I told him, she was sick man. Real sick. Stay out of that shit.

You know, even today, I still have to check things out before I get with a woman. She never knows what I am doing, but the experience has scarred me for life.

~Steve