This didn't happen on Valentine's Day, but I feel like today is a fitting day to confess it.
Let me preface by saying no one on this forum is a bigger wiener about the rules than I am. I'm not sure what rules this might be punishable under, worship, brag, criminal activities... but just this once I will push it. This, and that time I got picked up for disorderly conduct for peeing on a tree, are the only two times I've done anything that might approach something like "illegal." In this story what I did wasn't criminal, but I do think it's probably gotta be somewhere up there. It wasn't good. But it was done out of incredible desperation.
Back when I audited a couple classes so I had an excuse to go back to school and make up for lost time, I volunteered at this bar & grill on campus. And like with every restaurant, we have a waiting list if the restaurant is full. The way it works is, you give us your name and phone number and we'll call you when you're next up for a table.
And one day... this girl walks in with her two friends. Tiddies like honeydew melons, straining against a loose knit sweater. Disproportionately huge on a tiny, slender body. Knitting loose enough that I could see she was not wearing a bra. And she had no qualms about walking around like this. She was essentially fine with letting people look at her giant breasts, barely covered by a partially see-through sweater. She was chipper and bouncy, too. Like she was deliberately trying to get people to look at them. She had a spunky, playful streak to her. I remember her table was up, and it was a crowded house so I couldn't see where she was. So I called her on the restaurant's line to let her know her table was up. She thought it would be kinda funny to not answer and just show up spontaneously at the host booth with a very clever grin on her face. Hahaha, I did think it was cute.
But it wasn't just her, her two friends were also dressed highly sexually. I knew that couldn't be a coincidence. It wasn't a weekend or a holiday, so they weren't thotting it up for the clubs tonight. You don't wear sweaters to clubs anyway. To sexualize yourself this hard on a weekday can only mean that sex is your hobby/job/interest. I knew that these women, all three of them, had to be... Instagram models or something. They were in that industry somewhere, somehow. They do sexual things on the regular. Either sex is a great interest for them, or I just happened to catch them on the one day they all decided to get their tits out.
These were very special ladies. It's not often you find women in the wild where you are positive they absolutely must have connections in the "Internet slut industry." This was such a rare thing, I had to do something. So I made a mental note of her name and phone number. I didn't write it down or anything, my conscience wouldn't justify it. But I did remember it. That, I convinced myself, wasn't a crime. I remembered that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry gets that lady's number from an AIDS walk list and I figured what I was doing was little different from that. It's what a somewhat unscrupulous loser would do, but not a crime. But on the other hand, I violated the trust enforced anywhere that personal information is handed over. You gotta be able to trust the restaurant when you give them this stuff. What's next? Remembering your credit card details? How is that not a crime?
To this day, I have her name and number in my phone. I've never called her, I don't know what I could possibly say to her, she obviously doesn't know me. I'm just a creep who decided to save her number out of desperate lust.
I don't mean any harm by the things I do. I didn't do this thinking "Fucking foids, she deserves to have her number remembered by me." I don't wanna hurt anyone. The only way I could've done it was by convincing myself I was doing no harm. I was, and remain, an incredibly desperate man. And here was a connection to the world I wanted to be a part of. Proof that it was real, that there really are Internet models/porn stars who are friends with other Internet models/porn stars, and here three are right under my nose. If I could somehow have been friends with them, and be part of that world... I had no plan for how to achieve that, but it felt a tiny bit good to be connected to it even just a little.
Let me preface by saying no one on this forum is a bigger wiener about the rules than I am. I'm not sure what rules this might be punishable under, worship, brag, criminal activities... but just this once I will push it. This, and that time I got picked up for disorderly conduct for peeing on a tree, are the only two times I've done anything that might approach something like "illegal." In this story what I did wasn't criminal, but I do think it's probably gotta be somewhere up there. It wasn't good. But it was done out of incredible desperation.
Back when I audited a couple classes so I had an excuse to go back to school and make up for lost time, I volunteered at this bar & grill on campus. And like with every restaurant, we have a waiting list if the restaurant is full. The way it works is, you give us your name and phone number and we'll call you when you're next up for a table.
And one day... this girl walks in with her two friends. Tiddies like honeydew melons, straining against a loose knit sweater. Disproportionately huge on a tiny, slender body. Knitting loose enough that I could see she was not wearing a bra. And she had no qualms about walking around like this. She was essentially fine with letting people look at her giant breasts, barely covered by a partially see-through sweater. She was chipper and bouncy, too. Like she was deliberately trying to get people to look at them. She had a spunky, playful streak to her. I remember her table was up, and it was a crowded house so I couldn't see where she was. So I called her on the restaurant's line to let her know her table was up. She thought it would be kinda funny to not answer and just show up spontaneously at the host booth with a very clever grin on her face. Hahaha, I did think it was cute.
But it wasn't just her, her two friends were also dressed highly sexually. I knew that couldn't be a coincidence. It wasn't a weekend or a holiday, so they weren't thotting it up for the clubs tonight. You don't wear sweaters to clubs anyway. To sexualize yourself this hard on a weekday can only mean that sex is your hobby/job/interest. I knew that these women, all three of them, had to be... Instagram models or something. They were in that industry somewhere, somehow. They do sexual things on the regular. Either sex is a great interest for them, or I just happened to catch them on the one day they all decided to get their tits out.
These were very special ladies. It's not often you find women in the wild where you are positive they absolutely must have connections in the "Internet slut industry." This was such a rare thing, I had to do something. So I made a mental note of her name and phone number. I didn't write it down or anything, my conscience wouldn't justify it. But I did remember it. That, I convinced myself, wasn't a crime. I remembered that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry gets that lady's number from an AIDS walk list and I figured what I was doing was little different from that. It's what a somewhat unscrupulous loser would do, but not a crime. But on the other hand, I violated the trust enforced anywhere that personal information is handed over. You gotta be able to trust the restaurant when you give them this stuff. What's next? Remembering your credit card details? How is that not a crime?
To this day, I have her name and number in my phone. I've never called her, I don't know what I could possibly say to her, she obviously doesn't know me. I'm just a creep who decided to save her number out of desperate lust.
I don't mean any harm by the things I do. I didn't do this thinking "Fucking foids, she deserves to have her number remembered by me." I don't wanna hurt anyone. The only way I could've done it was by convincing myself I was doing no harm. I was, and remain, an incredibly desperate man. And here was a connection to the world I wanted to be a part of. Proof that it was real, that there really are Internet models/porn stars who are friends with other Internet models/porn stars, and here three are right under my nose. If I could somehow have been friends with them, and be part of that world... I had no plan for how to achieve that, but it felt a tiny bit good to be connected to it even just a little.
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