Don’t try to fuck girls in New Orleans up the ass with sunscreen (even the kind w/moisturizer)
“So I’m in New Orleans, at a bar in the French Quarter, and I meet this chick, a hot one too. We kicked back a few shots of tequila and next thing I know, only 20 minutes after meeting her, she invites me back to her hotel room.”
“So we get back there, and the second we step inside, she jumps on me and is kissing me, grabbing my dick, tearing off her clothes. It’s almost as if her clothes were attached by velcro, how fast she got them off.”
“So now we’re totally naked and on the bed. I’m about to roll on a condom and impale her with my helmeted soldier, but she stops me and asks if I want to fuck her up the ass. Of course, I oblige, as it isn’t too easy to find chicks who’ll let you walk on the brown side, especially only an hour after you’ve just met them.”
“So she tells me to go into the bathroom and find lube. I hustle in there, thinking her bathroom was like the anal sex palace or something, like there’d be 50 types of lube, anal beads, electronic dildos, all that shit. But there’s nothing of the sort. I couldn’t find any lube, whatsoever, not even hand lotion. I think of maybe using shampoo, but then I see some sunscreen, the kind with moisturizer, and figure that’ll do.”
“So I lather up my dick with the sunscreen and march back in there, ready to get down to business. I leap into the bed, grab her by the hips, about to flip her over and stick it in her ass, but she glances down at my dick with a puzzled expression on her face. She asks me what I put on my dick, and I tell her that it’s sunscreen. Then all of a sudden she totally loses it, screaming about how could I possibly be trying to fuck her up the ass with sunscreen, what the fuck is wrong with me, etc.”
“So then she starts flailing kicks and punches at me and does that thing where she twirls both arms around like windmills, slapping at me, forcing me towards the door. In between slaps I manage to pry open the door and retreat to the hallway. I plead to her that it was the type of sunscreen with moisturizer, but she slams the door on me and I’m now standing out there, buck-naked, sunscreen on my semi-hard dick, hair all messed up from her windmill slap attack.”
“So I bang on the door and beg her to please give me my clothes, but she won’t answer. My hotel was a couple streets away, and so I walked down the stairs, through the lobby, right into Bourbon Street. Funny enough, not a single person gave me a strange look. I even walked by a couple other naked men, but I couldn’t tell whether or not they had sunscreen on their dicks, though it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.”
“So I get to my hotel and run into these cops outside and I tell them about what happened and ask them if they can help me get my clothes back from this chick. At first they just laughed at me, especially when I told them about the sunscreen thing. One of them asks me why I didn’t just spit in my hand or something, but then they agree to help me retrieve my clothes, especially since my wallet was in them, with my driver’s license and everything, and the cops were sympathetic to me about how much of a pain in the ass it’d be to go to the DMV and have it replaced, particularly if I had to explain to the people at the DMV how I’d lost it in the first place.”
“So I’m walking with the cops back to her hotel, still naked, mind you; surprisingly the cops didn’t ask me to put on clothes, but like a hundred people had thrown me beads, so like my neck and chest were covered with them, kinda like I was one of those 1980s rappers who covered themselves with gold chains, well, not exactly like that, but sort of. Anyway, and then some short bald guy on a Segway, who said he was a mortician, rode by and gave me a pink ski-mask, which I put on, and it helped me feel a little less embarrassed.”
“So we’re about to step into her hotel when the cops say they want to grab a quick cup of coffee at McDonald’s. We walk in there and there’s this group of like 50 Chinese tourists, who are looking like they’re about to fight each other. But instead of fighting, they start break-dancing at each other, all aggressively, kinda like Michael Jackson’s ‘Beat It’ video, and then the cops and some guy who was dressed up like Ronald McDonald or who just looked like Ronald McDonald joined in, and so did I, break-dancing all over the place, jumping up on tables, all that shit.”
“So after break-dancing, we went up to her hotel, but I couldn’t remember which room she was in. The receptionist refused to call around or help me bang on doors, looking for her, and instead gave me a shower curtain to wrap myself in, and I said bye to the cops and walked back to my hotel. The staff at my hotel didn’t act surprised at all by me coming in there wrapped up in only a shower curtain, draped in tons of beads, wearing a pink ski-mask. I guess they see shit like that all the time.”
“So I guess the moral of the story is that if you meet a chick at a bar in New Orleans and you go back to her hotel room and she asks you to fuck her in the ass, don’t use sunscreen, even the kind with moisturizer, or else you might get into a break-dancing battle with Chinese people, and worse yet, have to go to the DMV to get your driver’s license replaced.”
Posted by Modus Operandi 
