sex IRL •
Sex IRL: The recent grad who won’t let a cold stand in the way of getting off
‘I have my best friend’s graduation in two hours and I’m fully naked’
Sex IRL is a new series by babe dedicated to detailing the ups, downs and in-betweens of real girls’ sex lives. It’s unfiltered, graphic and, most importantly, real. This week, a 22-year-old recent grad fighting off a cold and the siren song on Bumble fuckboys. 22, straight, New York.
6 a.m. Why did I decide to sleep over at this dude’s place? Let’s call him Frat Boy. I have my best friend’s graduation in two hours and I’m fully naked. Also why did I think hooking up with Frat Boy was a good idea? He asked me “Wanna fuck?” at least six times and came in under 5 mins. I need to up my standards at least a little. I bid the boy a goodbye and headed home to make myself look halfway decent. However I did wake up to a DM on Instagram from a guy I’ve been flirting back and forth with. Maybe this week won’t be terrible.
11 a.m. Safely changed and watched the BFF graduate. Also may or may not have started drinking at 10 am, but it’s fine on a Sunday, right?
3 p.m. Just stuffed myself with fast food and sent a few Snapchats to the guy I’ve been talking to. Fortunately he said I still look good even with my bloated cheeks. Nailed it.
7 p.m. Fuck. I’m definitely getting sick. I can feel it coming on.
8 a.m. Dealing with a cold I’m convinced the Universe gave me after all the shit I did last weekend. Work is certainly going to be fun today.
Noon Frat Boy from yesterday morning decided to hit me up, proceeded to scatter away once he heard I was sick. Not terribly upset considering I may actually scream if I ever hear him say, “Wanna fuck?” again.
3 p.m. Almost did some swiping on Bumble, but the pain in my throat told me I needed to stop being a hoe.
7 a.m. Okay, I’m definitely dying. Let’s see how long I make it through work.
Noon Didn’t make it very long. Entire office yelled at me for risking getting them sick. Currently on a train home.
2 p.m. Crawled into bed and shut off the world while I die.
9 a.m. Stayed homed sick, so I didn’t do anything besides Netflix and chill with myself.
4 p.m. Decided to do a little swiping on Bumble while my Netflix movie was buffering. Forgot how terrible the guys in my hometown are compared to where I work.
9 a.m. Forced myself back into the office and to go out for drinks with Instagram Boy even though I clearly should have still been in bed. Entire office has exiled me to the corner so I don’t get anyone sick.
Noon Confirmed times and locations for my date with Instagram Boy. Skipped cold medicine so I could drink tonight. Can’t decide if it was a good idea or not. Also decided to skip makeup and doing my hair. Definitely not a good idea
8:45 p.m. Currently running late for drinks. I swear the trains only decide to not work when I need to be someplace, and this cab driver definitely took the longest way here. I should have Uber-ed.
10:30 p.m. One margarita in and the conversation is flowing. He doesn’t even mind that my voice sounds like I smoke six packs a day. I definitely see some potential.
1 a.m. Well, I am just now crawling into bed. Safe to say the date went off quite nicely, even thought neither of us got off. I try not to think about how I have to be up in 5 hours and fall into a blissful sleep.
10 a.m. Work neighbor is out and apparently I got him sick, so now I feel just wonderful. Boss comes in to tell us that we aren’t allowed to stay past 3:30, so I quickly finish up (or tbh, half-ass) all the work I have, and plopped my ass on the first train home for the weekend.
2 p.m. Ended up spending most of the day in bed hacking up my lung. When is this sickness ever going to go away? I’ve been dying for days.
5 p.m. Instagram Boy just hit me up, wants to grab drinks. Guess I actually need to put on underwear?
9 p.m. Actually running a little on time for once, so I take the time to fix the almost pretty good makeup job I did while in my car. Once Instagram Boy gets there, we start pounding back beers. Beers are my new drink of choice, even with the threat of getting a beer belly. Somehow we end up back at his place.
11 p.m. I somehow put it into my head that I don’t want to have sex (I told you, I needed to stop being a hoe), so I tell him I’ll give him a blowjob. Contrary to societal beliefs, not all girls dislike giving blowjobs, and this girl is one of them. We’re both nervous he’s come down with a bad case of whiskey dick from all he drank tonight and won’t get off, but I’m determined.
11:15 p.m. Three cheers for no whiskey dick! He comes effortlessly, and I get drowned in compliments at how good I am. It almost turns me on a little.
12 a.m. Remember when I said I didn’t want to have sex? Well, that didn’t last very long. Somewhere between his dick in my mouth and me now on top of him, I changed my mind. Was it after seeing how big his dick was? Or maybe it was after I rode his face? All I know is I’m now on top of him and my knuckles are turning white from gripping his headboard. I could definitely get used to this.
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