I still have no idea why he was doing that. Here are some vacation hookup stories you can vicariously live through. But one night we were both drunk and I was mad at an ex, so he was being super touchy and I figured why not. I guess you could call that rape since I didn't want it and I'm pretty sure he did the same while I was passed out. Buffalo really is the city of good neighbors. All of 6'3, muscled and stocky and a military-style buzzcut.
It freaked me out for a while until I realized there was really nothing he could do with that information. He was also very strange acting. The next morning I had a call from my sister saying she was out the front of my house. I was several paces ahead of him and just tried not to freak out. I trusted my instincts and knew something was up.
I cracked it a bit and he said there was something behind my car he was going to get out of the way. So he was just upset because you were jerking off and maybe not going to be paying him to meet up with you? I got very lucky and since that day I've been scared of rough Italian trade , even though I luster after them from afar. He had met Jeffrey Dahmer at a bar in Milwaukee and gotten his number but never did anything about it. I said I would drive out to go out on a date an he was really excited because guys never want to do that when they hear he lives in Oxnard. I got dressed went down to the lobby contemplated calling the cops to file a report but weighed all of that out and decided to just get the hell out of there and go home. It also made no sense, being he was not the hotter of the two.
I quickly hung up, and thought that was the end of that. He kept walking next to me and said he'd follow me to my hotel and I would give him money. And at that, he grabs my arm and pulls me hard towards him and nearly succeeds in sticking his tongue in my mouth. I'll give him credit for not making it all about him in the bedroom. I had to pass him to get going in the direction I needed to go, and I was really scared he was going to assault me as I went by. Like R188 mentions, you start to get an idea of who to avoid, but sometimes you could get fooled. I slowed him down in an attempt to understand what on Earth my body was doing, and I realized that my bowels were moving.
My mind started racing and I was just praying for a way to get out of there. The racket brought the attention of a neighbor who must've seen this going down before. Told him more about myself, showed him that I wasn't the imaginary version of me he dreamed up. But when we got home, he stopped making the funny banter and just made himself a Four'N Twenty meat pie while I stood there awkwardly. I guess I looked like the perfect victim. In the later 70's my brother's partner, K, when to the beach for a hookup.
When he handed it to me, he was sweating, but the house was actually quite cool, so I wondered why he was sweating. I was living a walk-of-shame nightmare: My makeup was all over my face, my hair was in knots from my — ahem — interlude, and I was stranded in the lobby of the golf resort because the valet had lost my car keys. We started making out and when things got hot and heavy, he clamped a handcuff onto my wrist and cuffed me to the headboard. He wanted to go back to his place using his car. Some important detail is missing from your story. If he anally sodomizes you, he could even cut your fucken throat with a switchblade for kicks.
He began biting me, slapping me, and tearing my clothes off. I didn't put up much of an argument, I admit, I just wanted him out of there--once I got a good look at him, I could see and smell he was probably homeless. Anyways, chill for a bit, head to her house, smackadatazz and fall asleep. I then engaged in the most grueling 20 minute conversation where I tried to prove to him in a very calm voice that I was not the person he thought I was. I slammed my car in reverse and took off.
The house I met him at looked sparsely furnished, which I mentioned to him. We all should have known better. I had a second threesome a few years later, with different people, and I went down on the woman. The Green River Killer was still at large then and one theory was he was a trucker. But it was fine: He called me Lovechild, and left. He knew I was with friends next door and I think this was the only reason he didn't try to beat and rob me.
What started out as an impulsive vacation makeout quickly devolved into a full-on stalker situation that made the next few days super uncomfortable. I looked like a young Scott Baio and this was back in 1981. We talked for a few minutes on the bar patio and it was getting near closing time. Says that cutie is his son and he wants paid for the insult of treating his son like a whore. A few weeks after I got back to America, I had a message from him on Facebook telling me that I have Chlamydia and that I had given it to him. I freaked out and he said - no it's just for my protection in case you were crazy.
I watch too many true crime shows. He said he woke up the next morning and guy was nowhere in the house. R41, to what are you referring? K thought he was going to be killed. The other dude wanted me to pee in his mouth, which I did on two separate occasions. He was his type, a rough trade Italian. As he was leaving, he turned around and slugged me really hard. The guy in question sounds like a total creep.