There was time, before I was married with a little newt, when my life's only mission was to defrock girls and bite, suck, lick or eat their skin or some bodily fluid.
I had quit drinking, so I couldn't sit alone in the woods and mumble to myself anymore. I had a lot of energy to burn. Being sober, I realized that extremely drunk girls were vulnerable. Not in the date-rape sense, but in the easily-conned sense.
The fact was, sex didn't really interest me. I just wanted to make people do things they either didn't want to do or normally wouldn't do. In some circles, such people are called "sociopaths."
But anyways. This all leads back to dip, and let me tell you how:
One night, I was in the bar with four or five friends. Because I was sober, my speech was solid and, in turn, I was irresistable to women. I also did not smell like puke or hamburger, and my eyes looked really pretty. Did I mention that I am also a very gifted dancer? Girls like dancing.
I decided to lay my skills into a tall young thing. Not a knock-out, but not Helen Keller, either. WASTED. That was why she became my mark. Absolutely don't remember her name, but she lived in a nearby town, and she kept asking me if I knew so-and-so and so-and-so.
Of course, I told her I knew ALL of them, and I made up fun stories.
Also, I told her that I was a commercial jet pilot.
Not much later, I had her pinned against the stall wall in a putrid men's room. I was kissing her and biting her neck and whatnot. She was giving me a handjob and blabbing about her horses or some shit.
Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I still had a fatty in my mouth, because I had been spitting on the bar floor. But now, I was chest to chest with this chick, and I couldn't divert myself to spit.
I decided to be resourceful. Every time I laid my lips on her shoulders, I let a little bit of spit run out of my mouth and onto her back. Before I knew it, I was pretty much spitting all over this girl. Into her hair. In her ears. I unbuttoned her jeans and started spitting directly into her panties.
(I do still remember what her stomach/pubus area looked like. It was nice.)
Honestly, the girl was so drunk that I could have been dripping hydroflouric acid on her, and she wouldn't have noticed.
I didn't feel bad about it because no self-respecting person should end up in a bathroom with a stranger.
Even if he IS a fine dancer.
