The one time L2 dated outside her type (tattooed, dirty, unemployed “musicians”) she went to the other extreme with a clean-cut germphobe who was borderline obsessive-compulsive when it came to cleanliness. Clearly a glutton for punishment, he often subjected himself to hanging out with both of us, using his parents’ money to buy us food and hotel rooms where we could get drunk and L1 could pretend it wasn’t creepy or weird at all to hang out with high schoolers, so we were willing to overlook the fact that he drove an Escalade, wore hair gel, and probably ironed his clothes and trimmed his armpit hair… until we caught that fucker cheating. Ever the classy dude, he screwed a skank upstairs in his house while L2 cleaned the basement after a party.
Obviously he had to be punished, but let’s be honest. We’re way too lazy to plot a proper revenge. Luckily, the perfect opportunity to get even presented itself when he and L2 decided to return each others’ personal belongings. L2, unable to face the shame of having been cheated on by someone who wears gold necklaces, put me, L1, in charge of collecting his things and orchestrating the exchange.
As I looked down at the d-bag’s pile of crap while I waited for him to show up, I noticed a tube of chapstick (because no man can go without moisturized lips). Of course I immediately pulled down my pants, bent over in front of a full-length mirror, and wiped the chapstick all over my butthole. I should note that this was the special, medicated kind of chapstick, which resulted in a burning asshole on my end, but whatever. I suffer for my art. The d-bag wouldn’t even eat off my fork. Let’s see how much he likes wiping my ass germs all over his lips!
Of course I waited a few days before spilling the beans that I had used his chapstick as a butthole moisturizer. I had to make sure he had used it a few times, duh.
another tehe
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