What's your craziest sexual experience thread?
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This thread is Crazy Sexual Experiences. So, I'm going to pull out and wait for everyone to share.
Alasliasolonik
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School I used to work at has a lady with Downs, a few years younger than me, working part time as a lunch monitor. We'll call her Claire. Every now and then, when I bring my class to drop them off at lunch, she'll come up and say hi and chat with me. I stay for a few minutes and talk just to be friendly. And for a while, I don't really think much of it.
A few months into the fall semester, one of the life skills TAs, who is also a friend of Claire, comes up to me and tells me that Claire really likes me, is always talking about me with her, etc. etc. I'm like, "okay, that's cool." Then, knowing that I'm single, she asks if I'll take Claire out on a date.
"I'm sorry", I say, "what?"
She says I only have to take her out once and she's never been on a real date before and it'll be really good for her self-confidence and other such bullshit.
I give in, partly because I owe her a favor from something earlier in the year, and partly because I'm slightly intrigued by the idea. Claire, you should know, is by no means attractive, but still high on the scale as far as Down syndrome women go. Overweight, but not obese. Characteristic facial features are noticeable, but not exactly prominent. A solid 4 out of 10.
Now, obviously, I had no intention of fucking her going into this. The actual date with Claire was pleasant, if somewhat boring. We had dinner at a moderately-priced restaurant downtown, followed by a walk through the park as the sun set. Easy. The whole night cost me less than $40 including parking. I would've been perfectly happy to drop Claire off at her place and be home, hitting the bong by 9:00. Except...
We roll up to her place around 8:30. It's some kind of group home deal in a working-class neighborhood near the school. I walk her up to the front door, and am about to say goodnight when she hits me with it:
"Do you want to come inside?"
I swear to God I almost asked if her friend, the sped TA, told her to say that. But instead, I said that it was getting late, and...
"It's only 8:30, plus tomorrow isn't even a school night."
I ask aren't there any rules about bringing guests inside past a certain time.
"Yeah, but people break them all the time. No one really cares."
I stood there dumbly for a second or two, wondering whether she really knew the implication of what she was asking, or if she was simply repeating a line she'd heard on a movie or TV show, then she said,
"I have a bottle of wine in my room."
I remember I once attended a seminar on teaching kids with intellectual disabilities. The main message was that, retardation notwithstanding, they're basically ordinary people, with all the same aspirations, same fears, same desires. I figured Claire was no different. She knew exactly what she wanted. On one hand, I didn't want to risk upsetting her and thus pissing off her friend the TA. On the other, the ethically questionable allure of bedding a retarded chick was too much for me to resist. I went inside.
Her bedroom was like a teenager's. Participation trophies lined a set of shelves bolted to the walls on either side of the single window. Walls painted bright colors. A bed on one end, a TV on the other. I sat down on a beanbag chair, and wasting no time, Claire retrieved the bottle, a surprisingly good Pinot Noir, from underneath her bed.
I asked if they were allowed to have alcohol in the group home.
"No, I smuggled it," she said, with a mischievous grin that, to my surprise, induced my dick into a semi.
All she had in the room were a couple of 12 ounce plastic cups that she filled nearly to the top for each of us, almost draining the whole bottle in the process. She put on Netflix and asked what movie I wanted to watch. Still not 100% sure if I wanted to go through with this, I asked for Casino. No shit, that actually is my favorite movie, but I figured if it's three-hour runtime could put her to sleep, that might give me an exit if I decided to back out at the last second.
Claire, however, wasn't having any of that shit. She sat down on the bed and, in the sweetest voice I'm sure she could muster, asked me if I'd sit down next to her. Blithely, automatically, I complied, knowing fully that my fate was sealed. Both of our cups were half empty, and we hadn't even gotten past the opening credits.
It was right around the time Joe Pesci asks Robert de Niro if he can come to Las Vegas to help run the Tangiers that Claire made her move.
My cup was empty and I was a bit buzzed from drinking half a bottle of wine, so I didn't really react when she put her hand on my leg, nor when she paused the film and looked up at me. It was only when I turned my head and caught her eye that I realized I wouldn't be getting home early that night. I made a silent prayer to whatever god of decency might be watching and leaned in for a kiss.
By the way, to those degenerates who've been waiting with your dicks in your hands for the part where things get interesting, here it is. Thanks for sticking around. I love you guys.
The actual foreplay took no time at all. By the time I got her clothes off, she was already soaking wet. Her pussy--shaved!--glistened in the warm glow of the ceiling fan lights overhead. I couldn't believe my luck. Having discarded any moral hangups over what was about to happen, I reveled in the fact that I was, truly, moving headfirst into uncharted territory.
As I said before, she was not obese, but the kind of overweight that our pre-agricultural ancestors might have found supremely arousing for its indication of good health and abundance. Her hair was dark, like her eyes, cut in a short bob that I was certain she'd had done just for the occasion.
Her face. When I leaned back to look down at her, I wish I could describe in one word what her face looked like right before I entered her. This mix of apprehension, amorousness, confusion, expectation. I'd never seen anything like it. I asked if she was ready.
"Yes." She didn't say the word so much as exhaled it. That was good enough for me.
I went in slowly at first, not sure how Claire would react--uncharted territory, folks. She wrapped her arms across my back and dug her nails into my flesh and let out a noise that, for a moment, I was afraid would get the police called on us. She tucked her head down and I could feel the heat of her breath against my neck. I pushed deeper.
Claire crossed her legs around me. I couldn't believe her strength. "More," she moaned, "more, more.." I went deeper. She began thrusting her hips back and forth, Her breathing quickened and her moans became more frequent. I got the distinct impression that I was less a man to her now than some piece of meat that she had brought into her domain strictly for her own pleasure. This realization aroused my greatly and I quickened my pace.
I gripped her hair and pulled her head backward. I leaned in and chewed on her earlobe. I fondled her enormous breast and circled my finger round an erect nipple. This, I'm sure, was her first time being with anyone, and I wanted to leave her with a good impression. Mid-thrust, I felt her vaginal muscles clench around me, as her moans became louder I covered her mouth with mine, hoping that her orgasm wouldn't induce me to finish myself. I was now fully invested in this moment and wanted to keep it going, since even now I knew it would NEVER happen again. I looked over at the clock on her nightstand that read 9:23 (only 52 minutes, holy SHIT). I thought of lesson plans and meetings, and ARD dates and...
It wasn't enough. I clenched my hands behind her back and blew my load into her, disregarding any thought of safe practices (women with Downs are generally less fertile than those without. Even so, I could've been more careful. As of writing this, around a year later, I haven't seen any sign of problems, but still...)
For a time, the only sound in the room was our breathing. Still heavy. We laid there for a couple of minutes before she got the idea of us taking a shower in the attached bathroom. There she was back to her old self, laughing and giddily telling me how much fun that was as we scrubbed each other's juices off.
We dried off and got our clothes back on and Claire made no complaint, showed no disappointment when I said it was time for me to go. Whatever. She'd got what she wanted. She grabbed my hand and kissed me on the cheek before I stumbled through the dark house to the front door, beyond which my car waited for me by the curb.
A few months into the fall semester, one of the life skills TAs, who is also a friend of Claire, comes up to me and tells me that Claire really likes me, is always talking about me with her, etc. etc. I'm like, "okay, that's cool." Then, knowing that I'm single, she asks if I'll take Claire out on a date.
"I'm sorry", I say, "what?"
She says I only have to take her out once and she's never been on a real date before and it'll be really good for her self-confidence and other such bullshit.
I give in, partly because I owe her a favor from something earlier in the year, and partly because I'm slightly intrigued by the idea. Claire, you should know, is by no means attractive, but still high on the scale as far as Down syndrome women go. Overweight, but not obese. Characteristic facial features are noticeable, but not exactly prominent. A solid 4 out of 10.
Now, obviously, I had no intention of fucking her going into this. The actual date with Claire was pleasant, if somewhat boring. We had dinner at a moderately-priced restaurant downtown, followed by a walk through the park as the sun set. Easy. The whole night cost me less than $40 including parking. I would've been perfectly happy to drop Claire off at her place and be home, hitting the bong by 9:00. Except...
We roll up to her place around 8:30. It's some kind of group home deal in a working-class neighborhood near the school. I walk her up to the front door, and am about to say goodnight when she hits me with it:
"Do you want to come inside?"
I swear to God I almost asked if her friend, the sped TA, told her to say that. But instead, I said that it was getting late, and...
"It's only 8:30, plus tomorrow isn't even a school night."
I ask aren't there any rules about bringing guests inside past a certain time.
"Yeah, but people break them all the time. No one really cares."
I stood there dumbly for a second or two, wondering whether she really knew the implication of what she was asking, or if she was simply repeating a line she'd heard on a movie or TV show, then she said,
"I have a bottle of wine in my room."
I remember I once attended a seminar on teaching kids with intellectual disabilities. The main message was that, retardation notwithstanding, they're basically ordinary people, with all the same aspirations, same fears, same desires. I figured Claire was no different. She knew exactly what she wanted. On one hand, I didn't want to risk upsetting her and thus pissing off her friend the TA. On the other, the ethically questionable allure of bedding a retarded chick was too much for me to resist. I went inside.
Her bedroom was like a teenager's. Participation trophies lined a set of shelves bolted to the walls on either side of the single window. Walls painted bright colors. A bed on one end, a TV on the other. I sat down on a beanbag chair, and wasting no time, Claire retrieved the bottle, a surprisingly good Pinot Noir, from underneath her bed.
I asked if they were allowed to have alcohol in the group home.
"No, I smuggled it," she said, with a mischievous grin that, to my surprise, induced my dick into a semi.
All she had in the room were a couple of 12 ounce plastic cups that she filled nearly to the top for each of us, almost draining the whole bottle in the process. She put on Netflix and asked what movie I wanted to watch. Still not 100% sure if I wanted to go through with this, I asked for Casino. No shit, that actually is my favorite movie, but I figured if it's three-hour runtime could put her to sleep, that might give me an exit if I decided to back out at the last second.
Claire, however, wasn't having any of that shit. She sat down on the bed and, in the sweetest voice I'm sure she could muster, asked me if I'd sit down next to her. Blithely, automatically, I complied, knowing fully that my fate was sealed. Both of our cups were half empty, and we hadn't even gotten past the opening credits.
It was right around the time Joe Pesci asks Robert de Niro if he can come to Las Vegas to help run the Tangiers that Claire made her move.
My cup was empty and I was a bit buzzed from drinking half a bottle of wine, so I didn't really react when she put her hand on my leg, nor when she paused the film and looked up at me. It was only when I turned my head and caught her eye that I realized I wouldn't be getting home early that night. I made a silent prayer to whatever god of decency might be watching and leaned in for a kiss.
By the way, to those degenerates who've been waiting with your dicks in your hands for the part where things get interesting, here it is. Thanks for sticking around. I love you guys.
The actual foreplay took no time at all. By the time I got her clothes off, she was already soaking wet. Her pussy--shaved!--glistened in the warm glow of the ceiling fan lights overhead. I couldn't believe my luck. Having discarded any moral hangups over what was about to happen, I reveled in the fact that I was, truly, moving headfirst into uncharted territory.
As I said before, she was not obese, but the kind of overweight that our pre-agricultural ancestors might have found supremely arousing for its indication of good health and abundance. Her hair was dark, like her eyes, cut in a short bob that I was certain she'd had done just for the occasion.
Her face. When I leaned back to look down at her, I wish I could describe in one word what her face looked like right before I entered her. This mix of apprehension, amorousness, confusion, expectation. I'd never seen anything like it. I asked if she was ready.
"Yes." She didn't say the word so much as exhaled it. That was good enough for me.
I went in slowly at first, not sure how Claire would react--uncharted territory, folks. She wrapped her arms across my back and dug her nails into my flesh and let out a noise that, for a moment, I was afraid would get the police called on us. She tucked her head down and I could feel the heat of her breath against my neck. I pushed deeper.
Claire crossed her legs around me. I couldn't believe her strength. "More," she moaned, "more, more.." I went deeper. She began thrusting her hips back and forth, Her breathing quickened and her moans became more frequent. I got the distinct impression that I was less a man to her now than some piece of meat that she had brought into her domain strictly for her own pleasure. This realization aroused my greatly and I quickened my pace.
I gripped her hair and pulled her head backward. I leaned in and chewed on her earlobe. I fondled her enormous breast and circled my finger round an erect nipple. This, I'm sure, was her first time being with anyone, and I wanted to leave her with a good impression. Mid-thrust, I felt her vaginal muscles clench around me, as her moans became louder I covered her mouth with mine, hoping that her orgasm wouldn't induce me to finish myself. I was now fully invested in this moment and wanted to keep it going, since even now I knew it would NEVER happen again. I looked over at the clock on her nightstand that read 9:23 (only 52 minutes, holy SHIT). I thought of lesson plans and meetings, and ARD dates and...
It wasn't enough. I clenched my hands behind her back and blew my load into her, disregarding any thought of safe practices (women with Downs are generally less fertile than those without. Even so, I could've been more careful. As of writing this, around a year later, I haven't seen any sign of problems, but still...)
For a time, the only sound in the room was our breathing. Still heavy. We laid there for a couple of minutes before she got the idea of us taking a shower in the attached bathroom. There she was back to her old self, laughing and giddily telling me how much fun that was as we scrubbed each other's juices off.
We dried off and got our clothes back on and Claire made no complaint, showed no disappointment when I said it was time for me to go. Whatever. She'd got what she wanted. She grabbed my hand and kissed me on the cheek before I stumbled through the dark house to the front door, beyond which my car waited for me by the curb.
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As I was reading this I was expecting it to end with "...to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel Air" or something along those lines.
Did this get back to the TA? Did people talk?
Also it sounds like this isn't Claire's first rodeo. Were the plastic cups disposable? If there were only a couple left then you know she'd been busy. Retarded like a fox.
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I want this to be real, so fucking bad. You fucked a Downs girl, lmfao. This is amazing.
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Notice how there's no additional details of what happened after the fact. Like future contact at work, etc.
It's either a copy pasta or he totally got used by a downs girl as a piece of meat. I want it to be true so bad.
It's either a copy pasta or he totally got used by a downs girl as a piece of meat. I want it to be true so bad.
Alasliasolonik
Toilet of the Mod Elect
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How about this, I tell a few more stories, like 6 over the next few days and you figure out the fake one! Might take a little bit.So not true.
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Are there any cases of downs people getting married to normal people? Could you ever love one of them!?
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Void
Experiencer
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/b/ - Random » Thread #815271988
TheBArchive is a dedicated archive of the /b/ (random) - the most viral imageboard on 4chan
thebarchive.com
Hoping that links correctly.
EDIT: Looks like it isn't taking you to the exact post. Search the page for 815280004 then.
Alasliasolonik
Toilet of the Mod Elect
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Thats fine, that can be the fake one! This will be up to you fellow bros and trannies.
Void
Experiencer
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You could have said that was you too though. I have no way to prove you didn't post that original one. I mean, other than the obvious fact it was copied, but you could have run with it!
Alasliasolonik
Toilet of the Mod Elect
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We will make this a game over the next month or so. It will be fun
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Hoss
Make America's Team Great Again
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Just be sure to start them all with "Dear Penthouse Letters, I never thought it would happen to me ..."
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