15 March, 2010

T-Shirt 15

T-Shirt: Grand Forks (Red)
Size: Medium
Age: About six years
Story: Your girlfriend's kid has some friends over for a sleep over and you and your girlfriend eventually call lights out and leave the kids in the care of the scary movies you rented for them that night. They're still giggling away while the two of you make way to the bedroom. The two of you being boyfriend and girlfriend, you decide to do what boyfriends and girlfriends do that doesn't involve an argument.
Instead of going with the standard method, you're both feeling adventurous as indicated by the fact that she has opted to put on Calexico's The Black Light rather than Portishead's Live in NYC, she's dimmed the lights, and she's talking absolutely filthily and the fact that you are pretty much down for whatever involves friction on your penis. This scenario, with its various acrobatics and orifices, reaches its perverse finale in pretty much the only way it could: With whatever that didn't make it on to her face all over your stomach.
You both need to clean up, so you make a quick, naked, sticky dash to the bathroom. Out of toilet paper. There's none under the sink. The two of you were out shopping today, that's right. Well then where the hell is - Oh, no. It's still downstairs in the bag on the drier.
You do the "oh, my god, I'm a naked man" dance back to the bedroom. She wants to know where the toilet paper is. You tell her that somebody forgot to bring it up to the bathroom. The lights are still dim when you grab your jeans and t-shirt. Quick quick quick, no time for socks or undies. You pop out of the bedroom and down the stairs where there are three snickering boys and one terrified shitless one watching Nightmare on the 13th whatever in sleeping bags and you have to dance over them to get to the utility room. It's not until you're in the light of the kitchen that you realize that you're wearing your girlfriend's t-shirt. You open the utility room door, grab the toilet paper off the drier, and do an about face for your return trip when there it is: Your girlfriend's kid is looking right at you in his mom's t-shirt. Your hair's a mess, you're barefoot, you smell like something he won't recognize for another seven years or so, and you're wearing his mom's t-shirt. He knows what's up, and while he's used to seeing you like this every once in a while, the look on his face as you dance with the toilet paper over the sleepy caterpillars that are his sleeping-bagged friends says, "Really? You couldn't take one night off? Especially tonight? With my friends here? And you're wearing my mom's t-shirt to do what? Make it more obvious? God, I fucking hate you." That's exactly what the look on his face says.
You get back up stairs and let your girlfriend know you have the toilet paper. She tells you she just grabbed a towel. She never mentions the t-shirt. It just kind of winds up becoming yours. Probably by virtue of it being half-stuck to your belly.


  1. One of your best fucking stories, ever. Pardon the pun. That's a "must keep."

  2. Keep. Awesome fucking write-up. That shit was funny. I can imagine the look of disgust of his face when he realized that you were wearing Angie's shirt...

  3. I think the kid was just pissed off that his mom ever had sex with anybody, you know, ever.


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