The tension was building, friction of sparks igniting of rubbing against one another, the cosmic relief of finally having reached the point of completion; the euphoria erupts and much to my dismay, my car alarm goes off —
“Hey, somebody fucked up your car again. I guess they had trouble pulling out!”, sounds the voice of my overly enthusiastic neighbour.
Now I’m no foul mouthed caveman, but in that moment I did yell; “Your mother should’ve swallowed you!”
I ran downstairs, third time this week — why is it so difficult to parallel park?
My over-anxious brain got the better of me, and the puppy dog eyed demon who’d just left another series of marks on the backside of car made the confession;
“I’m sorry…I just, I was about to…but…”
“I guess you had trouble pulling out?”, I exclaimed.
“…”, a certain look of disappointment and premeditated judgement.
“Alright well…you look like you pulled out now. Off you go, all is forgiven!”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah…”, I said with a gasp with undertones of suicidal tendencies.
“You sure? I can give you my insurance details.”
“It’s okay…what good will the insurance do. The scars may heal, they may be refurbished, but all the while; I’ll know they’re there…”, I said in a Morgan Freemanish tone.
Curiosity must’ve gotten the better of me, as I made myself a cup of freshly brewed 3 in 1 Coffee.
Google, “Why is it so difficult to Pull Out?”;
The results were astounding, to say the least —
“…but it’s definitely better than not using anything at all”
Now that was a thought I could relate to.
Taking the matters into my own hand, I paced my way up and down the street; what could possibly be the best method to avoid pulling out mishaps?
After all, there were only so many scratches my poor Honda Civic (not my sponsors) could take.
Alone, in despair, I could not fathom a singular solution —
For I had reached the ultimate, lowest of the low; a true moment of self-reflection…
Maybe it was time to let go, maybe it was time to finally realise — pulling out just wasn’t worth it anymore.
Taking in as my final stance, I got into the front seat; ready to drive into the sunset, when my car made a rather unusual sound…
The sound of…
Humping and Squeaking, the noise was rather unbearable; after all what could possible cause my Honda Civic (not my sponsors) to suddenly erupt in such orgasmic noises.
This was when I realised, the last time I’d driven the thing was a few weeks ago; and since then the car had been borrowed by a certain individual.
Looking to my back-seat, evidence was in full swing.
Sex had been had in the back seat of my car, and the individual had certainly done a good job of pulling out — for I could see, hesitation marks.
How Does the Pull Out Method Work? | Follow Easy Instruction
There's only one step: pull out your penis and ejaculate away from the vagina. It's important to pull out in time, all…
So I did what any good samaritan goes, donated my car to a local Salvation Army.
Along with it, hidden deep inside the CD player — was a certain visual for the next passenger to endure…
Always pull out, no matter how big or small, no matter the time and the place, no matter the space, do it because it is JUST and it is a MUST; even if it takes a life time of regret to do so.