Prove She’s a Slut

Often times, while confessing some of the adventures I have had to friends, they will not believe me. They feel that either I embellish an otherwise normal experience or that I make it up all together to impress them. Usually I just shrug this off and forget about it. I have heard often enough that there is no way many of the stories I have said are true. There are times when I want my friends to know the truth and if they question me, I feel obliged to prove that I am not lying.

This is one such occasion.

One weekend while we were out on South Beach, a friend of mine met a girl at a bar. No big deal, except that he started to walk around with her all night and show all of us this girl he had just met as if she were a trophy. Given, at first glance she is decently cute with a bubbly ass. She also has a good body on a short frame, meaning some guys would refer to her as a “spinner”.

The problem with this is that I had actually been with this girl once before. I knew what she was like and it is not as if I wanted her to myself. Actually, I wanted her away from my friend because she was a clinger.

She tried to follow me home a couple of times. She called me nonstop. She even found my facebook and used a connection we shared to get my email and send me messages. I stopped calling her and receiving her messages, her emails go straight to the Spam inbox, and I no longer use facebook as a result of her. I guess I should thank her for that. She taught me that I should be more careful about whom I let into my life as I continue to do what I do. I should stop talking to her all together, but I am thankful I did not at the time because it served me well for my friend.

She and I met in South Beach. I should have known better immediately than to mess with this girl. She was the type that would go to clubs and find large groups of people who bought bottles and would act like one of the group to get drinks for free and meet people whom she thought had money. My buddy, Joe, comes from some money and his friend from undergrad came into town to visit. Naturally, he wanted to take in all the glory of South Beach that he could.

We got a bottle which meant we also got a table. There were 4 of us guys that night and we were having a great time. We would leave the area occasionally to chat with some of the girls around there and bring them back to the table with us, though we were quick not to offer them drinks from the bottle. We must have built up quite a group because all of the sudden, I noticed this girl, let's call her Jersey, around us.

She was not dancing like the other girls, in fact she was sitting on the couch around our table, just watching us. I figured her for one of the friends of the girl so leaned down to introduce myself. She was polite but then asked if I was a cool guy? Put off by the question, I asked her what she meant by that statement. She replied that she was wondering if I was a cool guy that would share some of the bottle and get her a drink. I told her no, that it was meant for us.

She asked about the other girls and I explained that they all had drinks when they came to talk to all of us but that I would tell them the same thing, it was meant for the guys. I also said that some of us guys had been purchasing drinks at the bar for girls individually and she asked if I would go buy her a drink. I responded that I would later, that I just got back and wanted to chill with my friends. She got up and walked away without a word.

Later in the evening, I went back to the bar with one of the girls that I was dancing and chatting with. I saw her come up to me on my other side and said hello again. She asked if I would buy her a drink at that time, but I replied that I did not know if it was a good idea because she might just take the drink and run off without chatting with me. She promised that she would not so instead of ordering two shots, I got three.

I should have known at that moment when she approached me that she was off a bit. She admitted she was only looking for something at the table with the bottle and she was quick to find me when I walked up to the bar with the other girl. While the three of us were chatting, Jersey did not say much and kept quiet, looking only at me most of the time. I knew that if I pursued her in any way that there would be some trouble I just did not realize what kind.

The other girl at the bar had to go with her other two friends and left me her number. We later hooked up two weeks or so after that but I have not tried calling her back after because she was just so bad. Honestly, who thinks that by sucking harder that getting head feels better? Want to give better head? Stay down longer, go deeper, do it faster, and complain less. Do not, I cannot stress this enough, try to suck it harder. And on to the next one.

So Jersey and I are still at the club, still chatting, when a friend of mine comes over. He says that Joe’s friend is beyond wasted and Joe is going to get him home. I ask him what his plans are and he tells me that he wants to go somewhere else, but not a club because it is late and we did not want to pay cover. I said I would go with him and looked at her, she said she did not have any plans either so she would come with us.

We left the club, the three of us, and went to a bar called Playwright because it is almost always still busy late. There we grabbed a table and chatted for a bit, though Jersey did not say much. When my friend said that he was tired and would catch a cab home, I wished him luck and he walked out the front door.

I was left with Jersey and asked her what she wanted to do now. She said go somewhere, but not go to bed. We left and started walking towards the beach. I had no plans on letting her come to my place because I could already tell something was off with her. I asked her where she lived and she said some apartment way up near North Miami Beach. I told her that we should just go to the water here and we walked onto the beach and laid down near the dunes.

She sat half up and leaned over me as she talked. Eventually, we began kissing and she was quick to put her hand down the front of my pants. We did this for a while until I pulled my cock out after undoing my pants and she went straight down and began working. We stayed there and I did not want to move anywhere until I was finished. She did not, for her part, stop or ask to go anywhere else. She finished and took everything down. I then composed myself and put my clothes back on.

We got up and walked to the street and I told her I was going to leave but that she should call me some time. She asked if she could come over and we could do some more but I knew she was being suspicious. I said no, that I was going home and had plans with Joe and his friend the next day. I convinced her to get into a cab and then I walked back to the garage and got in my car and drove home.

The next day, she texted me something like 10 or 12 times. I responded 3 times only to say that I was busy, I would not be available, and that I would chat with her later. She repeated the same thing the next day. I did not respond at all.

That week, she texted me every day and by the end of the week began sending dirty pictures of herself to me. I responded only occasionally, but by that weekend, I was ignoring her text messages all together. She began calling randomly, hoping I would answer but I just let her phone calls go unanswered and never returned her voice mails. Eventually she stopped sending them so frequently and I figured she was calmed down enough.

I ended up texting her two months later while I was trying to walk home from Coconut Grove drunk. I did not want to pay for a cab, so I called her, she came and picked me up and took me to her place. We hooked up and she was completely into anything I asked. The next morning, while she was sleeping, I texted my friend to come pick me up and I snuck out.

She texted me several times that day and throughout the next week. I did not respond to those and eventually she stopped texting me. This is where the beginning of the story picks back up.

My friend came up to me to show me this girl that he had met. He was so proud, but once I looked at her, I knew this was bad news for him. I did nothing that night and Jersey never texted me to try and make me jealous or anything so I was glad it was over.

The next day, while at my friend’s house just knocking back some beers, he told me that he got her number but had wanted to go home with her. I, like an idiot, said that he might want to be careful. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn't. He wanted to know what I meant and began pressing me on what I meant. Eventually, he started being an ass and so I let him know about her.

I told him that I had hooked up but that she had texted non-stop. I told him how she sent me pictures and how we hooked up once the first night and then again a few months later without speaking much in the time between. He said he did not believe me because she had not acted that way with him. I replied that whatever he wanted was fine but he would not let it go.

In a very tipsy state, I told him that she was a complete whore. I then said I could prove it. He replied, “fine, prove she’s a slut!"

All right, you asked for it.

I asked him to input her number into my phone and that I would talk to her and everyone else was to remain quiet. The other guys around us were fascinated and sat there still. I then dialed the number and when she picked up I put her on speaker phone.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, not much. Just sitting at home today.”
“Are you going out with your friends tonight?”
“I might, I don’t know what they are doing and I have not spoken to them yet. Did you want to hang out.”
“Maybe…” I said grinning. The look on my friend’s face was an Oh My God astonished looked. The others were covering their mouths so as to not laugh aloud. “So you are just home alone right now, bored?”
“Yeah…why?” She asked. I could see her smiling understanding where this conversation might go.
“I’m just chilling too, but I got to thinking about you and got a little horned up.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well how can I help you with that?”
“I dunno, why don’t you touch yourself a little?”
“Okay…”
“Yeah, I want to hear you climax.”
“You don’t want to meet me?”
“I can’t right now, but I do want to hear you.”
“So I could come over and then we could…”
“I’m out right now, can’t meet. Touch yourself. My hand is down my pants and I am hard.”
“Are you? That’s hot.”
“What about you?”
“Well now I am pulling my pants and undies down. I’m all shaved, too.”
“That’s good”
“Yeah, just going to rub myself a little…”

She began with a slight moan. I told her that was good and that she should keep going. More of that continued and more of the canned responses from me followed. The problem with all this was that my friend started getting very mad. He sat down and stared at the coffee table and floor, avoiding everyone’s gaze. I continued to prod, telling her to go faster and think of me doing things to her. At the point where she began to moan loudly and quickly, I could tell she was about to climax. I hung up the phone, dropped it on the couch, and said “See?”

My friend stormed out. Everyone else was laughing out loud and asking me questions. I picked up my phone and called my friend. To everyone’s great surprise he did not pick up. I said I was sorry that happened but I wanted him to know the truth about her. The next day he called and apologized about storming out and realized that I was just trying to help. He also made a comment to imply that I was just going after any girl and somehow selfish. I shrugged it off.

He was hurt and humiliated in front of his friends. He needed to blame something. He should have blamed her for her false front and blamed himself for being so easily duped. Whatever, not my problem.

I was not happy with what I had done. I was happy in the moment to be correct and show some of the guys my game that I sometimes had, but not happy with having to embarrass my friend. It was a shitty thing to do, but he asked me to prove it.

I did decide one thing that day. I deleted her number and have not spoken with her since.