I thought I’d share a fun story from a few years ago. While probably not as wild as most stories here, and far from my personal wildest adventures, it’s the sexual event in my life that excites me most to think about. Hopefully I can explain it in a way that makes you understand. Apologies if I ramble.
My girlfriend and I went on a beach holiday to Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic. While we were there, she met a fantastic guy and decided to prolong her trip to spend more time with him. So when departure day came, I was solo. I was dreading about 16 hours of travel ahead of me, and my day started off with an afternoon flight to Paris.
I had some make-up on, but was far from my best. The combination of sunburn, a few long island ice teas the night before, and 10 nights of too little sleep takes a toll on a girl. I was wearing pretty short jean shorts, but nothing else remarkable, a t-shirt from a souvenier shop, flat shoes, and even my hair was up. But sometimes I wonder why I ever get dressed up or try to look hot, because it’s the times I don’t that always seem more likely to awaken fate.