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Bedding the Singer (00000087)
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2.7/5 (150 Votes)
The time has come to unload something unbelievably embarrassing. I'm in the music business and have my own little sound studio at home where I record bands from time to time. Last year, I had an all-girl, alternative rock band in. The lead singer is genuinely good-looking: nineteen years old at the time, perfect legs and hips, juicy butt, delicious little breasts, an absolute feast for the eyes. Understandably, I start hitting on her. At some point, she accepted my offer to go out for dinner. So I take her to a nice place. After our opulent meal, I don't feel so good, but don't let on. Naturally, she comes up to my place for "a coffee". Luckily, I had pulled out the satin bed sheets and laboriously made the bed again with them. We never get to the coffee, we start making out as soon as we shut the door behind us. I'm still a little bit nauseous, but it's manageable and no reason to "blow retreat". Anyway, we're both naked and start to make love. Great stuff, though she might have shaved her bikini zone a little better, but then she has other qualities. Finally, she turns over because she wants it doggy-style; in the moment when she offers me her pretty behind, I get a nose full of really disgusting fecal odor. I heave, but keep it under control, at least until I see that there, stuck on her backdoor among the hairs, are fartleberries from her last toilet run. Oh yeah, that is where I lost it. I throw up all over her back and my freshly-made bed. What went down after that you can imagine. The very next day the band changed studios. I shouldn't have told my best friend this little anecdote, because he's such a gossip, but unfortunately I did. In the meantime, it has spread through the music scene all over town. This incredibly stupid joke is making the rounds that my recordings are enough to make you vomit. But since my studio since then has become busier than ever, I've had the last laugh.

Posted on 14.10.2009, 20:37:06 CET

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