I was crashing on a friend’s couch nursing a broken ankle when Rocket Tits first entered my life. I was essentially homeless at this point, having recently broken up with my girlfriend who kicked me out of her house. Rocket was leaving my friend’s house after staying the night with him. We quickly said hello to one another as she raced out the door.
A few days later we ran into each other at a local bar. She had just gotten off work at the strip club down the street. We flirted and she made it obvious she was interested in me. Apparently something about a guy living on a couch who hadn’t showered, brushed his teeth or combed his hair was appealing to her.
We made plans to get together that weekend. But first I wanted to ask my friend, who was sleeping with her at the time, if he would be upset if I took her out. When I brought it up to him he said, “Go for it, I don’t have any papers on her.” To this day I’m still unsure what he meant by the last part of that statement. I could tell he wasn’t happy about her wanting to go out with me.
Looking back, it was a dick move on my part. I mean, I literally met her moments after she had sex with him, while I was staying at his house. But, he should have been honest and said he didn’t want me to take her out. Had he told me the truth it would have saved me years of aggravation as well.
The weekend came and Rocket and I went out on our date. I remember pulling up to her house in my 7 series, blaring loud music, wearing a tank top and generally looking like a giant douchebag. She was into it though. Later, she admitted to me that she texted her friend when she saw me pulling up and told her she was definitely going to sleep with me.
We went out to a bar, had some drinks and lots of laughs. The two of us clicked right away. We were all over each other most of the night. Forcing people to watch our trashy public displays affections.
On our way back to her house I stopped at a friends house to pick up a bag of coke for myself. I seem to have this compulsion for putting substances in my body to ensure my dick won’t work properly.
I did a few lines and we started hooking up. Of course I was having a monumental issue trying to get a hard on. Finally I willed my dick to get just hard enough to use. The whole time during sex I was praying she didn’t notice my boner was slowly fading.
We went through the motions, trying a few different positions. For some reason she kept saying things to me like “You’re gay” and “I hate you” as we had sex, which wasn’t helping me keep my erection. I couldn’t listen to her speak anymore so I rolled her over, bent her over the bed, stood up and took her from behind.
As I was thrusting I could feel the bubble guts starting from the coke. I felt the need to fart. I was trying to hold it in but it squeaked out. All the sudden I felt a warm liquid running down the back of my leg towards my ankle. The smell of shit flooded the room. I don’t know how she didn’t smell it. Maybe she did and didn’t want to bring it up.
I had tend to this mess before it ended up on the floor. I needed an excuse to leave the room. I told her I needed to pee and raced out of the room.
When I made it to the bathroom I saw the runny mess of shit streaming down my leg. I thought to myself, “How am I going to thoroughly clean myself without her knowing?” I looked around for a dirty towel in her bathroom. As my luck would have it, all of her towels were light colors and I didn’t want to leave shit stains on them.
I ran downstairs to her kitchen and grabbed her paper towels. I cleaned the shit off my leg and wiped up the little shit droplets that ended up on her kitchen floor. I didn’t know how to get rid of the paper towels inconspicuously so I tossed them in her garbage can.
Once I was clean I scurried back up to the bedroom. I jumped back in her bed, shit-free, acted like nothing happened and finished what we started.