I hate L.A. The 45 minutes drive out there is annoying and unless you have a room, having sex is really not an option. But it was Ron and Meyer's birthday, and KayGee had a room at the Standard Hotel in downtown. I drove up there around 8pm and met up with them. I double fisted $8 beers, and we began our night.

The rooftop bar at the Standard was rained out. The couches and chairs were covered in plastic, and the servers were all wearing jackets. The $20 cover we paid wasn't looking so economical. Everyone hovered around the sheltered bar as immobilization became inevitable. We would have left sooner, but every time we were about to leave, one of the girls in our group would say, "Wait, let me just finish my drink." It took her forever, which made someone else order another drink. The cycle continued and resulted in the irritating illusion that we were "about to leave." The illusion lasted over an hour.

We finally left a little past midnight. The rain had died down, and we scurried to an intersection looking for either food or another bar. No one knew where they were going, so I took the lead. I saw a couple stumbling through an intersection two blocks away, so I walked toward them. Our mob of ten complained that I didn't know where I was going. They followed me anyway. I really didn't know where we were going, but I knew if no one made a move, we would have just stood there, and the girls would have whined.

We found the source of the stumbling couple. It was a Sushi house called "Tasami," or something with a "T." I didn't read it; the wording was too fancy. The bar was also on the roof, but at least this place had the option of an overhang to block the rain. The place was considerably more crowded than the Standard. We liked it immediately.

After Zack and I got drinks at the bar, two blonde Australian chicks in their late thirties walked by us. I said something about their shoes, and they stopped and talked to us. After only one minute of conversation, Zack wanted to leave. I didn't let his disinterest spoil my interest, so I let him leave. The girl he was "appointed to" also left, leaving me alone with the other girl. It was perfect.

Zack obviously hadn't spent too much time partying with me. He grabbed Meyer and showed him the chick I was talking to as if I were hitting on my cousin or something. I saw them over the girl's shoulder. Zack looked pissed off. Meyer just calmly whispered in his ear; probably clarifying to him that older women have a gravitational force on me.  

The Aussie explained to me that she loved American men. I explained to her that I loved Australian women. After I said this, she looked at my lips and smiled. She wanted to fuck. I could sense it.

We walked over to her VIP table, sat on the couch, and made out. She was a lousy kisser but made up for it when she reached down my pants and grabbed my cock. Five minutes later, she reached down the back of my pants and fingered my asshole. Big surprise.

She had come with four of her female "mates" from Australia. Three of them were single, and one of them was super hot but married. After 40 minutes of waiting for the bouncers to quit flirting with them, we departed.

I had originally thought the girl who drove us home was sober. But when she missed a turn, hot married girl called her "pathaytek." (That is the only time I will try and incorporate Aussie accents in this piece. Please imagine from now on). This prompted her to abruptly pull over to the side, get out, look back with tears in her eyes, and yell, "I am NOT pathetic!" I held in a laugh and watched her walk aimlessly across the street. Two of the girls got out to chase her. The remaining three of us waited inside the car.

I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore. I let it out. It wasn't uproarious, but the two girls in the car (my chick included) looked at me and laughed along. I love Australia.
 

The girls finally made up or whatever and got back in the car to finish the drive to their hotel. The other four girls were all hungry. My girl mysteriously just wanted to go to her room. I agreed with her. 

When we got in her room, I went straight to the bathroom to take a leak. When I came out of the bathroom, she was already wearing a lingerie nightgown thing. One minute later, it all came off. Other than the snooze button, lingerie is the stupidest invention ever. It's sexy for about 15 seconds. That's it. Any guy who has a fetish for lingerie probably sucks in bed. Tiny panties and a bra will do just fine.

I had stopped drinking an hour and a half ago to avoid the whiskey dick. So when she took my pants off, my dick sprang out of there with 100% power. Fuck 65% and 75%. I was getting an A+ for hard-ons tonight. She went down, but 20 seconds into it, I had already labeled this chick as the teethiest head-giver in all of human history. (Immediately following the writing of the previous sentence, I looked down my pants and at my dick. There are still teeth marks)

She wanted me to go down on her, but after casual scrutiny, I observed what had to be the hairiest pussy I had seen since 1999. I have noticed a trend. This was the 3^rd Aussie girl I had been with, and all three of them had this bizarre shaving method. They all would shave the top part, but then leave the hair on the actual labia to grow with no regard for boundaries or borders. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. I don't want to make any generalizations, but from my experiences with Australian women, they still have not made the switch from 1980s full-fledged muff, to the 21^st century shaved look. She reminded me of that one Elvira chick from the 80s. Had Elvira posed for Playboy back then, her muff probably would have resembled the muff on this girl. (Update: I have since heard Elvire did pose for Playoboy. I was right about the muff) It's cool though. Shit, Meyer is all about the panty poof. Not me. Although it looks cool and appetizing, once I actually get down in there, I have no choice but to retreat. It reminds me of a cold shower on a hot summer day. It may seem refreshing, but once you're in, you have to get back out.

Following the teeth debacle, she made several demands. The first was, "Fuck me now!" It was right about then that my dick nearly went limp and all hope was lost. I suddenly remembered I had forgotten to reload my wallet with a new condom after Captain Crunch girl. I asked her if she had one. She replied, "Nope. I'm on the pill." Sorry, not good enough. Two of my biggest fears in life are HIV and kidney stones. I wasn't about to risk getting the former. I always wear condoms.

I gave her "the shocker" to try and keep her horny as my mind tried to find a solution for my dilemma. She made more demands and comments:

"Just put it in! I'm on the fucking pill!"

"Oh god, stick it in my ass."

"I don't want your finger; I want your willy!"

"Fuck my ass. NOW."

I couldn't take anymore. I got up, turned on the lights, and scanned the room.

"You have to have a condom," I said, rummaging through her suitcases foolishly. Nothing. I found a plastic bag lying on the ground and asked if I could put it around my dick and tie it on. She said, "No fucking way. You are not fucking me with that thing." I tried to convince her twice more saying, "It will feel like the real thing." She laughed. Finally, we realized the only way sex was happening was with a condom. We had three lifelines.

Lifeline 1: I called the front desk.

Me: Do you have any condoms?

Desk Lady: No.

Me: Do you know where I can find one?

Desk Lady: There's a gas station next door.

Me: Thanks.

Lifeline 2: We got dressed and took the elevator down to the lobby. There actually was a gas station next door. It was closed. So was the liquor store across the street. So was the donut shop. I was so pissed about not having a condom that I even said in frustration, "Fuck! The donut shop is closed."

Lifeline 3: These four big dudes were loitering outside. I think two of them were valet guys. The other two must have been their friends. We walked back inside, but I had to give it a shot. I went back outside and walked up to them. Trying to act poised, I asked, "Do any of you guys have a condom?"

Big Dude 1: hahahaha

Big Dude 2: You tryin' to fuck that girl?

Me: Yeah. I forgot to reload my wallet.

Big Dude 3: Sorry man. I ain't got nothin'.

Big Dude 2: (Shakes head) Sorry man.

Big Dude 1: (Just finished laughing. Still smiling, slowly shaking his head)

Big Dude 4 didn't say a word or alter his facial expression. I thanked the guys anyway, and returned to Elvira. It was over. Sex would not be had on this night. I knew I shouldn't have taken out my condom with Captain Crunch girl! Fuck!

We got back to the room and got naked again. She sucked my dick some more and then the obvious. She tossed my salad. Yes, Butt Muncher Number SIX. The woman from down under literally went "down under." I am convinced that there is an article in a Cosmo magazine or something that is brainwashing women to think that rimjobs are a common practice; and for some reason, I am finding all the women that read this article.  

Following another rusty trombone, I splooged in her mouth. She swallowed it down with one gigantic GULP. We hopped in bed and passed out, both in frustration. Although hers must have been greater.

Apparently the girls had two rooms. The rest of the girls, being the liberal fun-loving Australian chicks they were, all slept in the other room, giving us our privacy. So the following morning when they came barging in to pack their stuff, they were excited we had hooked up. Why can't OC girls be this cool and unselfish?

While they packed, I went to the bathroom to take a shit, thus eliminating my chances of winning the award for the cleanest asshole in Hollywood. I flushed the toilet and hot married girl walked in the bathroom immediately after to pack her make-up.

"Oh fuck! It's smells like burnt ass!" She screamed, and then shut the door.

No one laughed except for me. She stayed in there and continued to pack. Then the driver from last night came sauntering into the room, a mess. She went into the bathroom and shut the door. I had to get out of there. I hugged Elvira, said goodbye, and walked out. Just before leaving, as I passed the bathroom, the messy driver opened the door, and I caught a glimpse of hot married girl, naked. She dove for cover. I laughed. Messy driver laughed. Hot married girl shrieked, "Shut the fucking door! Get him out of here!" I walked out of there, still laughing. I saw everything.

I took a cab back to my hotel and drove home. When I got home, I went straight to my desk and reloaded my wallet.