Post by A2J on Feb 26, 2008 22:22:39 GMT -5
Before I start this story, I want to make something very clear. I am not a homewrecker. I never want to be that dude who breaks up someone's marriage or is referred as "That fucking kid on my wife's vacation." What I am is a 21 year old kid who drinks a lot and doesn't always think with his brain. I'm also very articulate and charming, especially for someone my age. This story is what happens when you combine that with a smoking hot 42 year old nurse (above) with a liberal upbringing and a douchebag husband, and a shitload of alcohol.
It's our second night on the trip, and myself and a few of my boys are at one of the sitdown bars that closes at about 2. We were originally just there to grab drinks for the walk to the next bar (a 3 minute walk can be a long time without a beer), until we saw 4 older women across the bar shooting us some looks. Some nice looks. Some "I'd like to have a little Canadian on my vacation" looks.
I turn to my buddy Evan, who is by far the biggest shit show in our group. One day in the pool we were talking about how drunk everyone was on a scale of 1 to 10, except we decided that my scale probably goes up to 12, our buddy Scotty's goes up to 15, and Evan's ... well, Evan's scale basically goes from 1 to Evan. So if I feel like chasing a story with some older women, Evan is my go to guy. Obviously.
I turn to Evan, and decide to stick with simplicity.
"Yo, those older girls over there definitely want to fuck us."
"Yeah ... I'm not sure man, they look at least 40."
"I'm down for chasing that if you're down buddy."
A moment's pause. There is about a 1% chance Evan says no to an
opportunity like this.
"Alright, but I get dibs."
"Pick 'em."
Evan chooses a blonde with a cute face on the far left (in the background of the picture). This would turn out to be a terrible mistake. But he was far away, and shitfaced, and couldn't see her body. Shit happens. Not only did he not hook it up, but he earned himself a stalker for the week. Don't drink folks.
We decide to run the send-a-shot game, because it's especially fun and cute at an all inclusive place when the drinks are free. I sidle up next to Evan's girl and open with a little small talk about how my friend thought that she was cute and wanted to take a shot with her, and see if we might be able to spend a little time getting to know them. They agree, and Ev comes over. We decide that running two man game will be better in this situation - 4 older girls aren't all fucking 4 kids, but we figure if we play the odds, we should be fine. I move over to the next two, and immediately realize Ev's mistake. This girl is a legitimate dime piece. She has a cute face, with no wrinkles at all (I later found out her husband was a plastic surgeon, so I guess that's what face lifts will do for you) and one of the most banging body's I've ever seen. Her name is Chelsea, and her friend is a kinda chunky black haired girl who's name I couldn't pronounce. I ask Chelsea if she has a nickname, and she tells me yes - Puddle Jumper. No explanation required.
Me and the ladies start talking, and I ask them what they're down in the Dominican for. They tell me the four of them are on a work vacation, and that they all work together. Oh, that's interesting. What do you ladies do, perchance? They're nurses, they tell me.
Now generally, I'm a controlled guy when I run game. I don't get too excited, I play it cool, I lay back, I let girls come to me. I'm a talker, a conversationalist, not an alpha male "I know you wanna fuck me bitch" type. In this case, I can't hold it in. I smack Evan on the back and yell at him.
"Did you fucking hear that man? Nurses! All four of them! Holy shit!"
Luckily, the ladies found this cute. A few conversations about the specifics of their jobs leads to some funny moments (after they explain to us what Code Red's and Code Blue's are, Evan informs them that when you get so drunk you can't walk or speak, you call that a Code Evan), and everything is going great. Until I see the rock. A mountain, more like. This thing is fucking massive. We would later find out that Chelsea's husband is so ballin' that he sprung for the entire vacation, for all four of these girls. It explains the mother henning that happens later, I suppose.
I'm not sure what to do in this situation. Sure, a 42 year old fine nurse? I'm down for that. But married? Morals? Maybe? Is this something I'm cool with?
The conversation keeps going for hours. We talk about everything, about university, Canada, how they like it here so far, whether they're Hilary or Barak supporters, what they think of upstate New York, whatever. Just your usual bullshit that lets you show a girl that you're smart, you can hold a conversation, and you're not some meathead.
The time passes and we start moving to the 24 hour bar. Chelsea is all over me, her hand low around my waist and stroking, but talking to a friend of hers. I need to make a decision on this now. My buddy Stasko is walking just up ahead and I catch his eye. He grins huge and mouths "She's a ten" to me. I hold up my off hand and just wiggle my ring finger. Stasko hold up his, and makes a motion of taking the ring off and putting it in his pocket.
Game on.
At the 24 hour bar things are progressing fast. We've been drinking for a bout 4 hours now, and feeding these girls shots. Clearly they can't keep up with professional drinkers like me and Evan, and they're pretty much in the bag. Chelsea is sucking on my neck, putting her hand up my shorts under the bar, the basic shit. She keeps whispering to me about how much she wants to go to the beach, but she can't because she's married. I tell her that I'm not going to force her into anything, but if at any point she wants to go, I'll take care of her. Her friends, seeing this, are not pleased. They're explaining to Evan all of the specifics about her husband, about how he paid for their trip, about how they've been together (though not married) for 12 years, about how he's a really great guy. Of course, Evan is standing up for me, but he's too drunk to get out anything except "It's her vacation! She's here to have fun! No regrets! Vacation! Dominicano!" Maverick, you can be my wingman any time.
Now, we're sitting right next to these girls, and Chelsea starts paying attention. Needless to say, she's none too pleased about her friends talking shit about her right in front of her. She starts to yell at them, they start to yell at her, I pull my hat over my face to disguise the fact that I'm laughing my ass off. The argument ends, and she sits quietly for a few minutes. Like she's thinking about something. Then, out of nowhere, she slams back a shot and whispers in my ear.
"If you can get me out of here without my friends noticing, I will literally fuck your brains right out of your skull."
I never liked my brain anyways.
I tell her to meet me at the washroom in five minutes. I head in, take a piss, splash some water on my face, have a little pep talk in the mirror, and casually wait outside the women's washroom. About 20 seconds later, Chelsea comes along ... with fucking Puddle Jumper at her side. Obviously she tried to tell her friends she was going to the washroom, and PJ over here said "As if you're going anywhere alone right now." On their way in, Chelsea gives my cock a quick squeeze, just to let me know it's still on.
I decide the best play is to wait outside the washroom and run the "I was waiting for your girls" game, and keep trying to steer her away. They come up, I put my arm around Chelsea's waist and we start heading back to the bar. Puddle Jumper gets about 4 steps ahead, and I just turn Chelsea in the other direction and start walking. We get around the corner and start making out like crazy. She's jacking me off about 10 seconds in. I'm getting the panties off about 30
seconds in. And 45 seconds in ... Puddle Jumper.
She literally grabs Chelsea by the shoulders and pulls her as hard as she can away from me. Her hand still gripping my dick and everything. To be honest, it kinda hurt. She's walking away at a rapid rate, and I'm left standing there, dick out, wondering what the fuck just happened. Come on Gurn, think of something. Say something. DON'T LOSE IT! But all I can do is yell ...
"Chelsea! CHELSEA! PUDDLE JUMPER! COME ON!"
Defeated, I slink back to the bar where half of my friends let out a course of boos and the other half start cheering and high fiving. I didn't realize it because I was locked in, but there were 15 of us (we had a crew of 29 down there) who were laying bets on whether I would lock it down or not. Apparently I was 10-1 underdog at the start of the betting, and some people were looking at serious green if I could've pulled it off. I look at Evan, and just say "Where's your blocks dude? I had that locked." Not his fault though. He had two of the friends occupied, but, according to him, "Fucking Puddle Jumper just came out of nowhere man."
Poor decision making. We should've had four guys instead of two, to keep the friends occupied. I should've taken her somewhere a little more private then just around the fucking corner. I should've ... tried to fuck one of the nurses who wasn't married?
The rest of the night we spend bitching about mother hens, doing shots, and asking people at the bar their opinion on the moral dilemma. The next morning at breakfast, every girl on the trip with us relentlessly gives me shit about trying to hook up with a married chick. I realize that while this would be a great story, it wouldn't be smart to alienate the 14 other stories waiting to happen over the next five days. I spent the next night on the dance floor with Chelsea (her husband had sprung for salsa lessons ... her body moved like a snake guys) but didn't try anything, and ignored her for the rest of the trip.
Day two ... not too shabby.