Her name was Tiny and she was a frienemy of mine. Younger than me (barely) and single, she and I fake bonded while I was pregnant and my husband was deployed. I had live in the dorms because my First Sgt kept dicking me over on when my married and pregnant self could move out and she lived down the way.
Did I mention this was an AF flashback? Picture everyone in BDUs and it should work better.
Back to it. Tiny was an active slut. Not knocking it, I dabbled in my single days, but she was out to set a world record. This isn't just word around the squadron stuff either. I'm talking from her lips to mine and God's ears. Her mouth lips. Get your minds out of the gutter.
Tiny and I always had an understanding. I would say nothing about her whoring as long as she stayed away from my guy friends. She could have my sloppy seconds, she could go after whomever made her lady parts tingle, just leave my friends alone. For a little while, she did.
Until that fateful night.
Remember my BFF minus the ovaries? Well, we still aren't talking. He has talked to Hubby and claims he knew nothing was wrong. That tells me he is an oblivious idiot or never got my texts or messages. Hmm. Anyway, before his current squeeze, he was on par with Tiny in the slut department. My pregnant belly served as his wing man more times than I am willing to admit, though not as many times as I served as DD. Everyone loves a pregnant girl, no need for a taxi.
He had been warned on several occasions, most of them sober, to stay away from Tiny. Not just because I didn't want to deal with the awkwardness if it didn't work out, but because
skank + man-skank= AIDS. He swore to me that nothing was going to happen. He lied.
One night, I refused to play DD or wing man or babysitter and I went to sleep. He went to the bar. So did Tiny. They came back to his dorm together. They tried to fuck. End of story.
Just kidding! You think I would leave it at that?! I'll tell you his side of the story first, as I heard it first. The next day, he and I met up after work. We usually ate dinner together at Chilli's or grilled outside. I think the plan was for Chilli's. He was such a good pregnancy friend. I never had to cook. Anyway, as I walked into his room, he didn't look well. He looked nauseated and shameful. Keep in mind, I had no idea about what had transpired the previous night, so I was concerned. I told him he didn't look well and asked if he was okay. He said he had to tell me something and that I should sit down.
Him: Something happened last night.
Me: Oh, you drank too much?
Him: Well, yeah, but that's not what I mean.
Me: Dude, what's wrong? You seriously look like someone shot your dog.
Him: I wish.
Me: Spill. Now.
Him: You're gonna be mad. Just know that. And save it until the end. And no judging. Well, until the end.
Me: I might be able to do that. Proceed.
Him: So I went to the bar last night. Had a good time. Hung out with some people. Brought Tiny home. Tried to fuck her. Couldn't do it. Her snatch was rotten. So, how are you today? Any morning sickness.
Read that last one as fast as you can. Now times it by 2 and that's how quickly he tried to get it out. Of course I made him explain. Apparently, she was DTF (down to fuck for those of you not hip to the lingo) and made it clear that he could have it. The more he drank (and the more he struck out with other ladies), the more he became open to the idea. I wasn't too mad. It was bound to happen.
They stumbled back to his dorm room and started foolin' around. She wanted to skip the foreplay and just go for it. So he did. Well he tried. She wasn't wet. Not a even a sprinkle. After a little bit of smashing and smacking, she suggested he warm it up a little. As he isn't a selfish man (his words), he obliged. He moved down to the nether region, opened his mouth, moved closer...and then stopped himself from throwing up.
According to him, it was quite possibly the most noxious smell imaginable. Imagine rotten cabbage, mix in a little sewage, add tuna, and you've got yourself the stink of Tiny's snatch. He gagged some more and promptly got up. He said he thought about lying and saying he was too drunk and was sick, but Texas pride wouldn't allow him to act like a pussy. Unfortunately, that was the only Texas quality he invoked. He told her that he couldn't have sex with her...because her vagina stank. She giggled and tried to play it off, but he repeated this fact and asked her to leave his room. Embarrassed as all get out, she gathered her things and left.
I wanted to smack him, wanted to scold him, wanted to high-five him for calling her out...but mostly, I wanted to be thinking about anything but Tiny's rotten puss. I had to leave. I couldn't eat dinner with him having just heard what I heard. In fact, I didn't eat (and keep anything down) for a few days. I had perma-morning sickness, but in this instance, it was the thought of her poon.
I went upstairs to my room and found Tiny writing a note on my door board. She looked upset (who wouldn't be?) and upon seeing me, she shrieked about how she was so glad to see me and how she needed to talk. And I didn't see this coming, how?!
Her tale started the same. Bar, boozing, propositioning him. At least she didn't try and put the luring on him. Props for that. But then it began to differ. He begged her to let him go down on her because he wasn't hard yet, whiskey dick and all. She normally doesn't like that sort of thing, but he was just so eager that she couldn't tell him no. That would be rude, right? So he goes down there and before he starts, he gets sick and almost throws up because he can't handle his liquor. She tried to see if he was okay, but he got mad at her for his not being able to get hard and then he shouted it out. He said "It's not my fucking fault you have a nasty ass pussy!" Naturally she was taken aback, but he just kept ranting about how her pussy smelled and told her to get the fuck out of his room. She left and wanted to come tell me immediately, but she knew how much I needed my sleep. So considerate, that girl.
I realize that the truth always lies somewhere in between both of these versions, but I've never found Tiny's words to be truthful. From what happened at work that day to her bra size, there was always something false there. And I know him, knew him I guess, and the boy can handle his liquor. And he would never shout at someone like that, he's a happy drunk, not an angry one. Like, ever. I could imagine his version of events in my mind, vividly, but her version seemed like a bad movie.
It took everything not to throw up on her. However, my nausea gave me an out. She excused herself and said she would check on me later, but if I could maybe talk to him...Yeah. Saw that one coming a mile away. I smiled and said that it really wasn't my place to talk to him about it. Shit flipped real quick. Why wouldn't I talk to him? Because I didn't want to. Aren't I supposed to be her best friend? That was news to me. What the fuck was my problem? At the moment, it was the overwhelming desire to puke. Was I just going to let him spread vicious lies about her? He wasn't saying anything. Didn't I know how much shit she could say about him? Um, this just got awkward-er.
I let her storm off and took a coma. It was lovely. Drama free sleepy-time is always great. I didn't even have one stinky vagina dream. Tiny and I, well our friendship never recovered. He never told anyone else about her skeezy snatch, I was only privy to that gem. But boy, did she run her mouth about what happened with him. Different versions to different people, but still a whole lot of shit came out of her mouth.
Later, she would give another friend of mine Gonorrhea. He knew it was her because he hadn't had unprotected sex with anyone else (and for quite sometime). He told her after he went to the doctor and she denied it. She said there was no way he got it from her because she had just gotten the all clear from her doctor. I know this to be a lie because I was at the doctor the same day she got her test results. She cried on my shoulder and begged me not to tell anyone. I didn't, until now. Whoops.
So that's the tale of a stinky vagina. Be repulsed. Be disgusted. As long as you were entertained, I'll be happy.
2 comments:
Laughed so hard I almost destroyed my laptop. I {adore} you.
And I adore you. Can I just tell you that after that incident, everytime I came into contact with her, all I could smell was dirty snatch.
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