(I'm all talk right now, aren't I?)

"Why I'm Gay" (or: "Why I now hate all girls named Jennifer")

The place: University of Miami
The time: Late as all hell, Sept 2006

It was the start of my Freshman year and I was living high up in the Hecht dorms at UM. I did the whole "new kid thing": hooked up with a frat (Phi Tappa Pi), met as many people as possible, and did as much partying as humanly possible before classes start to impede such fun.

Classes eventually started, but were called off within two weeks for Hurricane Ernesto (the one that just couldn't come...) and all of the students evacuated their shitty little residences in favor of the giant concrete monolithic dorm towers.
There is more alcohol in Hecht during a hurricane than there is cum lining Andy Dick's esophagus.

Hanging with a potential 'brother', we visited a girl's floor and quickly made friends in a room with two girls; Jennifer and Katie. Jennifer was a pretty cute little girl; until she opened her mouth. Her friend Katie however was fat as all hell [to my superficial fagot actor/model standards] but my 'brother' came from the school of nondiscrimination so all was well in the dorms.

Moments later Jennifer's roommate joined the party with her boyfriend and the six of us got more than sufficiently wasted.
Jennifer was pretty upset bitched about a boy Matt she met earlier that had stood her up for the dorm party; "I thiiink heee's gayyyyyyyyyy" [she actually sounds pretty close to that!]

She was vulnerable: the frat handbook taught us that this is a very good sign...
Her roomate was going to be staying at her boyfriend's that night (another good sign)

The deal was sealed in a matter of hours. Having a roommate for once, I hadn't had the chance to jerk off since arriving at school. The opportunity to come was much appreciated and I thanked the girl kindly for supporting my cause by going down on her unkempt little bush...

Appreciation was gladly given since the only other 'action' I had gotten that semester was from a girl whose teeth scraped the tip of my cock to near "national state of emergency" levels (as I fully discovered soon after at the beach).

Poor Apache Chief was afraid of ladies for a good week after (yeah I name my cock, fuck off!)
And Yeah, she had a bush... Not a runway strip, not a little furry heart, I'm talking Nixon's-little-spaniel-Checkers style bush!

I say this not so much to disgust my unfortunate reader but to hopefully show my reciprocal nature and somehow maintain a positive light throughout the rest of this section you are to read.

I lie; I wouldn't have done it except the Phi Tappa Pi handbook ("The Good Book Phi") mandates that oral sex is always a reciprocal act without ANY argument if the deal is to be sealed without a fight.

During the process I got some hair stuck in my teeth

"Babe... I've got an extra razer if you want it"
"C'maawn Max- like you don't have any pubic hair..."

During the process a piece of corn got stuck in my teeth...

"I think I'm going to throw up!"

"Ohhh myyy gawwwwwd, that's the same thing Matt said"

Okay it wasn't that bad... But to have sex and be bored (with what little sex- let alone sexual release- that had in my life) is bad sex. She was one of those girls who barely moved. Just let out a little nasal "aooooooooh" every so often. I felt like I was raping a girl with sleep apnea...

I tried (I REALLY did) to be nice to the poor little retarded girl whose parents must have either blown the dean of admissions or bought the school a nice new lake to get her in the damn school.
One can only take hearing "My roooomate haaaatesssssssssss meeeee" every fifteen minutes for so long. That and the fifteen phone calls an hour (literally!) takes a toll.
Okay, so maybe it was slightly fucked to hook up with 8 girls at the Phi Pi Bid Night Party right in front of her ($700 alcohol budget ;-) two weeks later; but it was her decision to pick me up from a friend's afterwards.

I had made it very clear on several instances that I didn't want a relationship.
She didn't seem to get the hint...

...And told me soon after that the reason she was being weird (in one of the night's seventy text messages) was "because I think I might be pregnant"

Following a breakdown assuaged by my soon-to-be partner in crime that year, I told her she was a "crazy ass bitch" (because surely anyone with the Shoney's lunch buffet in their twat qualifies under this label) and not to talk to me again.

We had sex one time without a condom. And I remember exactly where I came; her face.

Stephanie (my momentary therapist) assured me that's not how you get girls pregnant normally.

Hopefully anyone reading my first ever blog doesn't think I am the biggest douche bag on the face of the earth. This story has always been a little skeleton that I am glad to finally get off my chest.

Although a rough introduction, I at least hope we know each other a little better now.
-Max V