Artichoke Pizza

One summer night, I end up at 1Oak in Meatpacking.

I am drunk. I flirt with Tyson Beckford. We talk about being of Asian decent.

Tyson: “I want to fuck your tight pussy in the bathroom.”

Mary: “Do you have a condom?”

Tyson: “No”

Mary: “Mmm, I can blow you instead.”

Tyson: “Okay, let me get a drink.”

He doesn’t comes back. #regrets

I sit in the booth with my friends. A bouncer comes up to me and tells me he recognizes me from a few days ago. The bouncer tells me how sexy and beautiful I am. After being freshly dumped by Tyson Beckford, I go with it and my hand wonders down the no-no zone. I tell him I have to pee. He escorts me downstairs to the bathroom and signals the bathroom attendant.

There must have been a miscommunication because he leads me to the last stall and walks in with me. Mmmkkk, but I go with it. I blow my first black guy. Smaller dick than I imagine. He finishes. I swallow, obvi. I kick him out because I need to pee. I hate myself.

My friends and I leave 1Oak and we go to Artichoke Pizza around the corner. I devour an artichoke slice and find my way home.

I lay in bed, drunk as fuck, and look down. Artichoke pizza or cum?

True Lies

10 Reasons why I can’t see you again.

1) I have a boyfriend. (Fun fact: I’ve never had a boyfriend. Boyfriends should lead to marriage. Other than that, it’s just a waste of feelings.)

2) I don’t know how to date. Definitely not a lie, but just not interested.

3) I’m on a sex hiatus. My sex life is like a hibernating bear.

4) Soul searching. I blame this on online dating and random hook-ups.

5) I have a “no sex” bet going with my sister. Definitely not a lie, but it just didn’t last as long he thinks.

6) I’m engaged. Hopefully one day I can meet a nice boy at church. Then I will convert to a born-again virgin.

7) I’ve gained weight. Definitely not a lie, just REALLY not interested. Also, I had no idea who this person was. Like no clue. I only had dick pics from that number. Wrong head, buddy.

8) I became a pornstar. I’ve considered dabbling in this industry.

9) [I’m upset I deleted this conversation!] I once told a germophobe I had herpes. I know it’s cruel, but he would not stop calling. (more about this boy later…)

10) I’m pregnant and have HIV, yet this boy gives no fucks. #marriagematerial

Doggy Style

One Thursday night after happy hour, I go home a little tipsy and open Tinder. I get a message from John.

John: “Down to fuck?”

Mary: “How big is your dick?”

John: “8 inches”

Mary: “Give me your address.”

I arrive at John’s apartment around 11pm. I am greeted by John and his annoying Yorkie that would not stop barking at me. I get naked on the couch and the damn dog is running laps around me. I ask John to put his dog in its cage and cover him up because I refuse to have the dog watch us fuck. The dog is in the cage, but it’s barking louder than ever. John says that he needs to take the dog out because it’s going to wake up his neighbors. I reluctantly comply.

John places the dog on the windowsill right next to the couch. The dog is whimpering and barking. We ignore it and start fucking. First John fucks me while I am on my back. Then he turns me over for doggy.

A couple of minutes goes by and I realize I don’t hear the dog anymore. I turn around and the dog is under John’s arm. JOHN IS HOLDING HIS DOG AS HE IS FUCKING ME DOGGY STYLE.

I can’t make this shit up.

No turning back now, I just let him finish.

Wordsmith

Practice sexting whenever you can. #wordswithfriends #clitoral #tight

First Blog Post – About Me

My name is Mary. It’s actually not, but it’s as boring as Mary. Definitely not a name people enjoy calling out in bed… if they even remember my name. I’m just a New York City girl, living in a lonely world. Hopped on the social blog train because I am not ready to pay for a therapist. Sharing some of my jaw dropping, too good to be true, hilarious encounters. Apologies in advance if I am talking about you.

I just woke up from a nap after eating spaghetti with meatballs, french fries, and pizza. Slept so hard, woke up, and thought it was morning. Nope. It is currently 10pm on a Friday night in NYC. Currently listening to “Wish I Knew You” by the Revivalists, on repeat. Just the one song. On repeat. Very fitting of my obsessive compulsive disorder (self-diagnosed, obvi). While in the shower, fake crying and thinking about how terrible my dating life is, I finally decided to bite the bullet and start my blog.

I’ve shared some of my most memorable stories with friends and strangers for shits and gigs, and have been told I should write about them. So here I am. Hoping this will be a memorabilia when I become a born-again Christian virgin.

These vignettes are meant to be initially funny. At times, I will throw in some depressing thoughts about my one-night hookups. Overall, don’t take this too seriously, but understand that this modern day hook-up culture wears and tears the soul.

So how did I decide on such a provocative name for this blog? A few years ago when I was very gung-ho about my weight loss journey, people asked me how I lost 100lbs (unfortunately gained back). I would reply, half jokingly, “diet, exercise, and swallowing cum.” I am not sure if there is credible, medical evidence that swallowing helps you lose weight, but the scale always drops 5lbs in the morning. Coincidence? You decide. Regardless, from the wise words of my Asian sista from another mista, “it’s only polite to do it.”