"I'm afraid to ask, but how many blowjobs do you think you've given?"
"Oh, I definitely gave a lot more blowjobs than hand jobs, I can tell you that for sure," she said. "Guys always want a blowjob rather than a hand job, any time," she said waving a hand at me and shrugging her not so sweet and innocent shoulders. "I dare you to ask any guy if he wants a hand job or a blowjob to hear what he says. No one would turn down a blowjob for a hand job. There's not a guy alive who wouldn't want a blowjob over a hand job."
"I'll take your word for it, Kath. I think guys would get the wrong idea of me if I asked them if they wanted a hand job or a blowjob," I said with a nervous chuckle.
Are you kidding me? I couldn't believe it. I was in shock. My dream woman, who has given hundreds of hand jobs to twenty-seven different men, now admits that she's given a lot more blowjobs to forty-four different men. I couldn't believe my ears. What the Hell is going on here? When did she change from an innocent virgin to an experienced minx? Suddenly, I could feel my erection deflating with the thought of her giving so many men hand jobs and blowjobs when she never even gave me a French kiss.
Suddenly, I wished we were never friends. I wished that I was one of those other guys who she had been sexually intimate with. I wish I had played freakin' football at her school instead of majoring in the dismal science of accounting at my school. It hurt my sensibilities to imagine her with a big, fat, sweaty football player. It made me ill to think of her peeling back his jockstrap to get at his cock to blow him.
Gawd! Kathy! What happened to you? Suddenly, instead of feeling like the player that I thought I was when I created this lesbian test, I felt like the loser that I truly am in front of the love of my life, my wished for girlfriend, lusted over lover, and future wife.
I imagined us standing at the altar ready to be pronounced man and wife when the Priest turned to the congregation and asked, "Speak now or forever hold your peace." Suddenly, hundreds of men, some still wearing dirty football uniforms and all standing there with their cocks dangling out and at the ready, converged up to the altar to surround us. They all wanted her. They all wanted her to blow them. I imagined her kneeling in her wedding dress ready to do every one of them, including the priest.
"So, how many blowjobs do you think you've given?"
"Oh, easily a thousand, at least," she said.
Did she say that she has given at least a thousand blowjobs? I can't imagine that many men being blown by her. Surely, she's kidding. She's reversing my game and trying to upset me. Why would she give a thousand blowjobs? Surely, she didn't do it for money? Did she do it because she just loves sucking cock or because she has a lot of horny boyfriends?
Joey's mouth was hanging open and all the color drained from my face. The rest of my questions were meaningless. I was meaningless. The pedestal that I had placed her on all these years crumbled before my eyes to reveal a giant cock oozing with cum and Kathy on her knees lapping at it. My love for her was meaningless. Surely, this was not the same woman that I had carried the torch of love for all these years.
I had the same sick feeling that I felt when I discovered the fantasy celebrity love of my life, the sweet and innocent Christie Brinkley, had been married five times. When did that happen? Last thing I knew she was a supermodel and married to Billy Joel and doing that Uptown Girl video. When did she get all that sexual history and baggage? Where the Hell was I when she was getting divorced and remarried?
How could Kathy, this gawky Tomboy, who wore braces and glasses and had acne, become such a sex craved woman? When did that all happen? The Kathy that I knew was Dennis the Menace's Margaret or Dobie Gillis's Zelda.
The Kathy that I knew and loved never swore, she never spoke about sex, and she never uttered the word cock. Now, everything has changed. She's totally different. Suddenly, she emerged from Zelda to Thalia Menninger played by that blonde sex siren Tuesday Weld on Dobie Gillis.
This is not the same girl who gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she left for college. She's different and she's a woman now. If I thought she was unapproachable before, I'll never get in her pants now. Now, she's a superstar, a man magnate, and a sex symbol. Surely, she looks at me as a child and at this test as a joke and as a sign of my emotional immaturity and sexual inexperience. I managed to humiliate myself by giving her this lesbian test, a test that, at the time, I thought was funny and a test I thought would make her want me. I was so naïve.
I don't have the sexual experience to satisfy someone like her. She has way more sexual experience than I do. Even though I'm a testosterone filled and constantly horny guy, my sexual appetite obviously pales in comparison to her sexual appetite.
How did she even have the time to meet more than a thousand men to blow them? I don't think I even know a hundred people and certainly not more than two or three who would want to blow me? I don't get it. I wish I had never given her this lesbian test. I wish I didn't know about her sexual history. I can only imagine the pillow talk that she'd have in bed.
"I don't think I can go on with the test, Kath. I'm sorry."
"Why? C'mon Freddie, this is fun."
"No, this test is stupid. I can't even ask you the rest of the questions. They are dumb and I'm embarrassed that I even talked you into taking this test. I'm sorry," I said again.
"Let me see them," she said taking the papers from my lap and exposing my big bulge that tented my pants. She looked at my erection and then looked away. I now knew that she wasn't admiring my belt buckle. I saw her look at my bulging cock. Did she do that on purpose? Or did she allow me to see her look, just to tease me? Whatever she did it worked because I was horny for her again.
"Let's see what you have here," she said reading my questions. "When you dream, do you ever dream of a train going through a tunnel? No, that's a Freudian thing," she said with a laugh. "When I dream about sex I don't dream about it symbolically. I dream of a big hunk of a man naked, willing, and able to please me."
"Yeah, well, I guess that leaves us out of your dreams," said Joey. "We'd fit the bill being naked, but we'd never measure up to your big hunk standards and after hearing about all the men you've been with, I don't think that either or even both of us together could please you."
Now, I felt even worse knowing the type of man that she dreamed about, the opposite man of me. She loved athletes. Maybe that's way she gave so many blowjobs. Maybe she was hoping to hit the jackpot and latch onto a winner, some college athlete who'd be offered a multi-million dollar contract as an enticement to the pros.
She continued reading the questions and I just wanted to die with embarrassment.
"Do you ever dream of a hot dog stand selling foot log hot dogs? No," she said again with another laugh. "Do you get sexually excited when a bartender asks you if you want a cocktail?" She looked at me and laughed.
"You're right, Freddie, these questions are lame. I thought they were good before but, I can see that they are dumb now."
"I'm sorry," was all that I could say. It was over. My love for Kathy shriveled with my erection. She'd never be interested in someone like me. She left me behind when she left the neighborhood for college. She stayed in a dormitory and experienced the complete adventure of college life. Unable to afford room and board, as well as my college tuition, I commuted back and forth. Perhaps, had I stayed in a dorm room, too, I'd be on her level, but I doubted it.
"You've got to be kidding," she said. Either you're trying to be funny or you're just naïve." She read in silence before looking up at me. "You're right, these are dumb questions. You guys are so lame," she said holding up the papers and waving them at us. "Is this how you think of women? Do you think that we are this shallow and this easy and this preoccupied with sex and with cocks?"
Now, I really felt like an idiot. Suddenly, I wanted to hide. I wanted to go home. Kathy was no longer in the same ballpark as me. She wasn't even in the same league. We weren't even playing the same game. She was at the advanced level and I was still a beginner.
I was a child compared to her. Obviously, she had all the secrets on not only how to get a man but also how to please a man. Here I was with my childhood friend, Joe, acting like juveniles in front of the women I was trying to sexually seduce into giving me sex. I was so embarrassed.
"Sorry," I said again holding my hand out to retrieve the papers, but she continued reading and giving herself the test.
"If you were sitting on a beach with a man you casually knew, an acquaintance or a neighbor, and you were having a friendly conversation what would you do in these situations?"
She looked up me and smiled before continuing.
"He's sitting across from you with his legs bent and his hands resting on his knees. Clearly, you can see that his penis and part of his testicles have fallen out of the underside of his bathing suit. What would you do?"
"Kath, there's no sense in continuing with this dumb test. This is ridiculous."
"I want to," she said. "Would you turn red, look away from his exposed man meat, make constant eye contact and/or look out towards the water while imagining a train going through a tunnel or an Oscar Meyer wiener commercial? Certainly, I wouldn't turn red," she said looking up and smiling at me. "Certainly, I'd enjoy the view."
Her smile made me wish I could kiss her. She reminded me of a young Christie Brinkley when she smiled. She continued reading my lame lesbian test further embarrassing me. She had the most beautiful smile and her teeth were so white and so perfect, just like the rest of her.
"Would you steal peeks at his cock whenever you could trying not to get caught looking? Yeah, probably, I would," she said.
"Would you just stare at his cock until a bit of drool fell from your lip? No, she said, that's too funny. That's something that a guy would do when seeing something that he wasn't supposed to see." She put the papers down to address us and to lecture us. "Women don't drool over cocks. Women aren't visual in the way that men are."
"We can't help ourselves, Kath. We're just dumb, visually aroused guys. We don't know any better," said Joe. Now, I felt doubly bad that I had embarrassed Joe, too. This test was my fault. I've ruined everything.
