The Highlight of My Life

Everyone makes up a story, and usually it’s not rocket science to tell when a story is fiction because of these outrageous events that are written in.

Oh, you were able to outrun the ostrich when it was chasing you at top speed? Highly unlikely, pal. An ostrich moves at a top speed of 43 miles per hour. Sorry, but I just don’t believe you…

I bring this talk of fiction up because there’s a very outrageous event in the story you are about to read, but I promise you that it is a real event. Names have been switched to protect the identity of the people in the following story. Also because if the father ever found out about what was on that slice of pizza, pretty sure I’d be killed. Therefore his name will not be used, and we can all live peacefully.

So we start off this story at my girlfriend’s house (we’ll call her Samantha). Samantha and I just got back to her house from school; the digital clock on my phone read 2:30 pm.

“Wanna watch TV?” She asked me. I would have offered an alternate suggestion, but at the time I had nothing, so I accepted her proposal.

We spent the day on her couch, nothing really interesting was going on so we just stayed in. Our eyes watched the screen as characters conversed for hours as we cuddled on the leather seats. Every now and then we’d pan away from the TV and share a look, which would always lead to a two-minute make out session. There were several make out sessions from 2:35 to 5:13.

She got a phone call at 5:13. It was her mother, calling to let her know that she was working late again and won’t be able to make dinner. So I thought to do what any other hungry, occupied teenager does with his money—spend it on food.

We dialed the nearest pizzeria and order a large cheese for delivery. The delivery man got there around 6:00, with an almost hot pizza ready to be eaten. We ate most of the pizza, and we moved on to do “other things” with one slice remaining in the box (remember this piece because it comes back soon).

I never really knew cheese pizza to be an aphrodisiac, but nevertheless things between us were heating up. We’d been in this relationship for quite some time now so the flames weren’t necessarily fresh. We made out slow at first and eased into a faster, rougher lip pace. Our kisses moved from our lips to each other’s necks and back again. I mounted her on top of me and planted hickeys on her chest. Her enjoyment showed through the sound of her moans. After a while she moved off of the couch and kneeled between my open legs. A Lewinsky was about to go down. It felt amazing, although there could have been less teeth. But everything was just fine. I know I raised my boy to be a trooper, my Johnson was used to being roughly handled. My mind drifted off to imagine the movements of the women I watch online and all of the sudden I felt a very familiar sensation. My soldier was about to be nauseous.

Fast forward to the post-ejaculation event; cleaning up. Samantha rises to her feet, seed on her upper chest, and walks to the kitchen to get paper towels. I remained seated in the chair, due to a puddle of my own “stuff” that had formed in one of the creases of my cargo shorts. She walks back into the living room with a roll, using on of the ripped pieces of towel to remove the baby batter from her chest. She hands me the roll and I stick a wad of it into the puddle on me. After a few rubs, hoping that I had gotten everything off, I lifted the paper towel to find that it was soaked in sperm. I was disgusted, but also a bit impressed. I rose from the couch and didn’t know where to put the damp paper towel in my hand. She said she had to get rid of the pizza box anyways, so we could throw them right in there for now. We opened the box just enough to throw in the used towels and shut it again. I looked at the time. 7:20pm.

“Okay, I need to go home and change into new shorts before I go to rehearsal,” I told her. She agreed. We kissed, lovingly and I headed for the door to put on my sneakers. I could feel the damp stain the puddle left on the fabric of my shorts as my moving leg brushed up against the pant. Samantha took the box to the trash can to break it up. She lifted the cardboard cover of the pizza box as she walked. Then abruptly froze in her tracks.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she replies, a smile forming on her face, “but you gotta see this.”

I walked over in the one shoe I secured to my foot. She reveals under the drenched pieces of paper towel the last piece of cheese pizza.

I looked to her as if I had just witnessed a severed finger in a bowl of macaroni and cheese. “You need to throw that out.”

She looked at me as if I was crazy, “I don’t have to throw it out.” She took the semen infested piece of pizza by the crust and threw it onto a paper plate, then stashed it in the lowest shelf in her refrigerator. I asked her what she was doing. She turned around and said with a grin, “I’ll just have it later.”

Doesn’t sound like something a sexy person would say, but somehow it turned me on. I checked my phone again and as it read 7:25 I was giving her the last kiss of the night and getting in my car.

The drive home went by fast. I was replaying the entire situation over and over in my head. It was a pretty great day, all in all. Well, except for the sticky pant leg of my cargo shorts clinging like glue to my thigh.

As I walked into my house I get a text from Samantha.

“YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.”

She proceeded to text me, in great detail, the following event, which will now be recited to you from her perspective.

I broke down the pizza box and went into my room. I was planning on eating the last slice of pizza before one of my parents got home, but my father got off of work early and was in the kitchen before I could get to it. I walked into the kitchen behind him and started a conversation to keep him away from the pizza at all costs. But he pointed out to me that he was hungry, and so he looked into the refrigerator for something to eat. I figured it would’ve been best to at least say I had a slice of pizza in there that I saved for me so he would know not to eat it. He pulled out the pizza from the bottom shelf and asked if this was the pizza I was talking about. When I confirmed he suddenly went on a rant about how I was living under his roof and how he was doing me a favor by keeping me here. He said that as long as I’m staying here, I had to know that whatever was in his fridge could and would be eaten by him. I pleaded that he didn’t eat the slice of pizza, I tried so hard to avoid it. I even told him that I bought the pizza with my own money in attempt to get him to back off. At first he pretended to care and lowered the pizza back into the fridge.

But right when I thought we were safe, he changed his mind and STUFFED THE ENTIRE SLICE INTO HIS MOUTH RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.

He didn’t seem to taste anything funny, but just imagining it made me want to laugh. Oh, baby, I wanted to laugh so hard right in front of his face. But I didn’t. I just walked right back into my room and texted you.

And that’s how a nasty old man got a taste of my potential offspring.

I would love it if I had thought up this story all on my own, but it being a 100% real event that happened just makes me want to take credit for it even more. Thank you for reading.