Ho Knee (part 2)

So if you were here for part 1, your hero was in a situation that seemed like a home run. I met a girl in a bar. She told me to buy her a drink, and then another. She put her hand on my junk, squeezed, and told me to take her to my hotel right next to the bar we met in. When I left you last, we were on the way to my hotel room with my wallet in my hand and her hand in my pocket. We all caught up? Good, now let me tell you how this day became one of the funniest and scariest to date. Ladies, Try not to judge me too harshly. as I am, after all, only a man.

So we hit my room and she removes her hand from my pocket. I have my wallet, driver’s license and room card key all in my hand. I toss them on the desk next to my Netbook laptop and I remove my jacket, tossing it on the floor. I know, the amount of randon DNA on the average hotel room floor is the thing of legend. A disgusting legend, but legend none the less. I was told by a friend that is a DNA specialist (not that way, you sickos, an actual specialist) that on one quilt in a crime scene there were, if memory serves, over 25 SEPARATE sperm samples. 25 different dudes dropped loads on this thing. ECH!!!!!! Anyway, I dropped the jacket and my new friend removed hers and threw it on the desk. She walked over to me and pushed me down on the bed.

She dropped to her knees and, well, how to say this since my nephew and nieces are reading this? She began to take care of things with her mouth. She was doing an ok job, and I decided this was not the best and close to the worst ever. I decided to shift gears. I went to pull her top off. She slapped my hand, hard, and told me to wait. She said this was her favorite and she was not going to stop util she wanted to. I told her she could continue, but the top had to come off. She told me that I was not in charge, and to sit back and shut up. Not sure I was liking being told to shut up, but the forcefulness was pretty sexy, if I can be honest. (Which is easier to do since I can’t see you all making “that” face right now. WHATEVER BITCHES!!!)

So she pushes me back on the bed and continues her substandard performance.  I kept hoping the quality would improve. She kept looking me in the eyes and that was also nice. I am about to stop her and change tactics when there is a huge bang at the door and time shifts to slow-mo. A number of things all happen at once, or seem to in my mind. She rises up. I begin to stand and imagine that she is about to open the door to a bunch of thugs that are going to hurt me very badly. I imagine how this will get back to people I respect and some I don’t. I am about to be judged, and be found wanting. As I begin to rise, she hits me in the face and I fall back on the bed and she bolts for the door.

I see her head for the door and imagine the worst. She is going to open the door to them, they, the others, whoever was out there. SHIT!!! I rise again and try to run after her. I grasp for her but fall face forward because my pants are around my ankles, tangled up with my shoes, and I lack blood flow to anywhere other than my penis. I slide and shout to her not to open that fucking door. She ignores me, grabs her jacket and my wallet and hits the door. I slid the metal latch thing when we entered, but that didn’t slow her down for more than a minute. She is out the door and I stumble towards the door, pulling my pants up in an attempt to not display my junk to the gang before they come in and kill, maim, beat or stab me. They don’t come.

She is out into the hallway when I get to the door and is gone. I slam the door. Flip the lock and metal latch and look out the door. The hallway is empty. I run to the window, slowed by the pain in my knee (soon to be dubbed the ho knee) and I look out the window into the parking lot. I see a man run to a car and back it up. I see the woman, who had been doing a horrible job of fellatio seconds before, jump in the passenger side of the car, and they speed away. I begin to smile and then laugh hysterically. I cant stop laughing and I begin to notice my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I cant believe how close I came to…well nothing really. There was no gang of killers. Only a guy driving way too fast away with my wallet that had had maybe $50 bucks in it, and a girl that had the taste of my junk on her breath.

I stop laughing.  It must have sounded like an arch villain of the Caped Crusader was in residence to the people on either side of my room. I look toward the door to reassure myself it is locked and I am safe. I see my license and room key on the floor and I laugh again. How would I have gotten on the plane in the morning in a post 911 world without any picture id. Sometimes the cards come up aces even when you don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve it.

I was supposed to meet a couple friends for a drink later that night. I texted them to tell them I would not be able to meet them. I got a reply that getting togehter with them was not optional. I replied that I was broke, which was not a lie, and I was told not to worry about it- be there or they would come up to my room and get me. I think there was enough noise outside my room for one night, don’t you? I put my pants back on and went down to the bar. My knee was bleeding and very sore and the last thing I wanted to do was walk anywhere. I went anyway.

   I sat there drinking a Captain and Coke with my friends. One noticed I was limping when I went to the bathroom and asked. I tried to lie, but then just pulled the leg of my jeans up and showed them. The guy, a former Army man and not exactly the most subtle person on the planet, asked how I got rug burn on my knees. I told him it was a long story and he asked if I was blowing a bunch of guys and one tried to get away without paying. I laughed and told him that was not it, but he continued. He began to call it the Ho Knee and said he would buy me drinks until I told him the truth. I drank two, and departed without disclosing the real story…. until now. So there you go sir. If you are reading this, you now know the story….I hope it was not a disappointment.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

No one sent me a link so here is another of my favorites. If you have a cool link, send it to me and if I love it too, I might add it here. Till then, enjoy “Jizz In MY Pants”. Look for Mr. Timberlake as the store clerk and enjoy.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pXfHLUlZf4