Everyone knows who Lauren is.
We've all met Lauren at least once or twice in our lives.
Lauren is the one who, for one reason or another, if you woke up next to her one morning would cause you to scream at the top of your lungs, "OH DEAR GAWD WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?!?"
Lauren lived in the dorms, and somehow Jake and I ended up at a party in her suite. There were a lot of football players there, and of course a lot more drinking than the usual dorm parties I tended to go to, and it got really rowdy and a fight broke out and a neighbour called the police and the police came and...well, Jake and I saw what was coming and got out of there long before it got real ugly so I'm not really sure what happened after that.
That's what I remember, anyway.
But that's where my memory gets hazy because I don't remember Lauren leaving with us.
But then the plot thickened--the plot always seemed to thicken when Jake and I went drinking--and it appears we went to Jake's. And made a beer run along the way. And then we made another beer run late that night and when we returned we found we'd locked ourselves out of Jake's house and so we broke in and a neighbour called the police and the police came and...well, Jake and I should have stayed at the party.
But I do remember--and undoubtedly will for the rest of my life--waking up the next morning in Jake's bed with Lauren laying naked beside me. And that's when I screamed, "OH DEAR GAWD WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?!?"
OK, I didn't really scream, it was more of a soft, whispered thought in my head, it's just that it FELT like I screamed it due to the cheap-beer hangover. We were college students on very tight budgets, so Jake and I were always drinking cheap shit beer.
I looked under the covers and sure enough, we were both stark naked and there were obvious visual and olfactory signs of coitus.
Lauren stirred. I thought about slipping away while there was still time, I could have walked back to the dorms in about a half an hour. Or walked a few blocks and called a cab. But it was too late.
"Good morning!" The beast was awake. "Want to go again?" And...the beast was hungry. Fuck.
No way. I am NOT going to fuck her again. I am NOT. No way. Fuck. No.
And then I thought, "Why not?"
OK so let's stop right there because I can actually answer that. I can actually tell you why not: because if you do you may spend the rest of your life asking yourself on a fairly regular basis whether your penis is a force for evil and must be destroyed.
Let me repeat that just to be clear: when you wake up and she--that she...Lauren...the one you will regret having fucked for the rest of your life--is laying there beside you, do not let yourself ask, "Why not?"
Unless, of course, you are prepared to cut your penis off. Then by all means, go ahead.
But at the time I had not quite realised the depths to which my penis could and would periodically stoop in an effort to ruin my life...and as a result, I couldn't really come up with a reason why not. And I had a horrible headache.
So of course I said, "Sure." And then I did.
Physically, she wasn't a bad fuck. She was a little thick in the waist and ass for my taste, and she needed to bring her hairstyle into the current century, but she had great tits, and as soon as we were done she blew me until I got hard again and then let me
And she made a pot of coffee for the three of us afterward.
But...no. Just no. Because after Jake dropped us off, she proceeded to spend the next several weeks bragging to everyone in the dorms that we'd slept together. "And did it three times! Three times!"
No. Wait. Scratch what I said before. Here's why not: because you can't unfuck a Lauren.
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