The Guilty Blowjob and the Hangover from Hell

Today I woke up feeling horrible. I didn’t want to look in the mirror, I didn‘t want to take any calls and I woke up with a peppermint patty candy wrapper stuck to my face. It’s been a long time since I partied like last night, and I’m getting to old for this sh!%. I remember when I was in my teens, early 20’s, would not only drink all night but stay up, go to work, come home from work and drink some more. The days of surviving off 2 hours of sleep is coming to an end.
Last night me and “my boys” went out to the bar. Since most of “my boys” are married or they’re in long term relationships, this doesn’t happen that often. Matter of fact it happens so rarely when we walk in, we’re had no idea what we we’re suppose to do. Should we get a table then get shots? Should we stand at the bar, move some people out and take over some “real estate”? This is when you know you’ve grown up. When you have to carefully plan out how to drink and where to drink it. After 10 minutes of awkwardness, I said “Fuck it” walked up to a group of very beautiful girls standing near by and asked them “Who wants to do a body shot” They looked pretty skanky and skanky girls love free alcohol so there were all game. I persuaded all of my married buddies to lick salt off a bunch of girls they did not know, and if there wives found out more than likely it would be my fault and they would call me the devil…again. But what a wonderful way to go to hell, and get a divorce. After 3 hours one of my friends called his sister and told her to come down to the bar. I’ve had a crush on this girl since we we’re 14, I’ve always wanted to sleep with her but out of respect I never touched her. Plus I didn’t want to compromise out friendship by doing something stupid like having sex. The alcohol had other plans. After some slick out of sight flirting and pinching and stroking I think I lost the battle of being a gentleman. I told my friend I’d take her home. I was extremely drunk and in no condition to drive, how I got back to her house is a mystery to me. I also don’t remember what I said to her while we we’re sitting in the car but when I looked down, her head was bobbing up and down and I could feel the back of her teeth around the top of my “golden rod”. I didn’t want to stop her, yet I needed to. In my head it was a variation of “I can’t believe THIS is happening” and “I can’t BELIEVE this is happening”. But when you think about it I think it’s better that she give a blowjob to someone she knows than to some stranger….now that I re-read that last sentence, I am the devil.
There is nothing more horrible, more terrible, more utterly shameful than hopping in the shower and washing a ring of lipstick off your penis. Guilt, and dewar’s do not go together. Neither does dewar’s and cars.