Relationships
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Our tech team has launched updates to The Nest today. As a result of these updates, members of the Nest Community will need to change their password in order to continue participating in the community. In addition, The Nest community member's avatars will be replaced with generic default avatars. If you wish to revert to your original avatar, you will need to re-upload it via The Nest.
If you have questions about this, please email help@theknot.com.
Thank you.
Note: This only affects The Nest's community members and will not affect members on The Bump or The Knot.
Re: Share your embarrassing story
I have 3... one for each category we've been covering.
Vibrators: When Trav and I moved into our first apartment together after college, we had our "basket of fun things" that we just kind of set down on the bookshelf by the door to our bedroom intending to put it away when we went to bed that night. Instead, we forgot... until the next day when the cable installation guy was leaving. He had been installing the cable jack on the wall just behind the book shelf that our basket was sitting on. Complete with my bright, shiny purple vibrator right on top. Poor guy was basically forced to stare at our sex toy basket the whole time he was working.
Vomit: I once made a poor life decision in college and drank too much sloe gin. I had also eaten chinese food for dinner. Rice + bright red sloe gin = vomit that looks like bloody maggot which = more vomit. We slept on the porch that night so I could just sit up and puke off of it.
The Sex: In college, Trav lived in a suite with a friend. It was two bedrooms, and the common room. The roommate was out so we thought we'd have sex on the common room couch... we had (assumed we'd) locked the common room door when we came in earlier. We were doing it with me sitting in his lap facing away from him, and a blanket over our legs, when the door a friend of ours walks in and comes over to sit on the couch with us! Since we weren't buck naked, laying on top of each other, he didn't realized what he interrupted at first, but it dawned on him pretty quickly when he realized that we were "sitting" in a sort of awkward position and were only halfheartedly responding to him with embarrassed faces. He thankfully excused himself pretty quickly and we asked if he would lock the door on the way out!Maybe I don't have a heightened sense of smell, but I've never smelled any vagina on my pants. -- TSD
Bloggity Blog - You know you want to...
Y'all, it's NOT THE BALLS. I'm supposed to get him, ahem, very aroused, and then when the real deal is about to happen I'm supposed to PINCH the HEAD. OMFG. O.M.F.GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
ETA: OH AND then we're supposed to REPEAT this. TWICE.............
And our counselor is a man.
Pinch it? WHAT? That just sounds...mean.
Okay, now that you've told us what you have to do, I really need to know why your therapist suggested this.
I KNOW! Doesn't it? I...just...no. I don't think I can do this.
TELL IT
OHMAGAH Kristen. I'm so immature. So, I'm confused. Isn't Mike the one who's got more..issues? In the bedroom? Why is this counselor's solution to try to teach you how to do an awesome handie? WUT?
I'm sexist. I'm much more lanieface about this now that I know the counselor is a man.
I don't quite understand why either. We went from massages and non sexual touching to...this. And I guess if he had a premature problem this would make some sense, but that's not the issue. It just sounds painful for him and boring for me.
Oh my gosh, Kristen. I'm DYING to know the theory behind it. I'm blushing in solidarity with you.
I'm uglykristenworklaughing now. My coworker just poked her head around the corner and I had to duck down behind my computer so I didn't have to explain what was so funny.
Maybe I don't have a heightened sense of smell, but I've never smelled any vagina on my pants. -- TSD
Bloggity Blog - You know you want to...
Is that supposed to stave off the orgasm? Because that sounds like it would take care of that pretty quickly.
I bet your therapist sees a therapist. And your therapist's therapist suggests he suggest S&M moves to his clients so he will hopefully leave his own junk alone and stop talking about his bruised penis during his sessions.
I heard that Tarpon is going to change her go-to advice from Get Tested to Pinch The Head.
OOOH, I just remembered an embarrassing story. I have posted this before, so I'll just C&P and add that the dude in question is in the pic I posted below. As is my friend who now has a crush on him.
I had a bit of mid-cycle spotting during a random pants-off makeout session with a guy once. On his white sheets. And I still have to see him fairly regularly. I can never look him in the face.
Ok, I'm trying to picture how Kristen would facilitate this. Would she be like, up close to Mike's face or peen watching for the big moment to arrive, and then frantically trying to pinch the er... tip, ever so gently? Is this supposed to feel good? Would it make a sound like air coming out of a balloon?
And what of the aftermath? I picture you guys sitting side by side, looking at the mess you just made and being like "So...did you like that?..."
How does it not end in this?
Winger, he gave some guidance on that.
With hand gestures.
I die.
Did he give you some reasoning behind the practice? I'm not getting it. How does Mike feel about this...plan? Not that I want actual details. I just want to hear that he was very WTF about it.
Holy shiit.
Apparently I skipped page two because I was all ready to reply to Meegs with "Rice vomit is the WORST." Seriously, so gross.
But now I am dying at pinching the head. WTF?
I think your therapist has a side job writing for Cosmo.
we all fall down sometimes
brass and ballet flats
Yes why? WHY?? I'm mortified! I think I might have hurled myself out the nearest window to escape this entire discussion with my man therapist. You are way more mature than I am.
Oh and I have lots of embarrassing stories. Off the top of my head pertaining to vomit, I recall my famous crippling Easter Sunday hangover. I stood up (waaaaaaaay) too fast for the Gospel and had to make a desperate exit....I threw up in a garbage can next to the post-mass donut display. "Hi. Sorry." A resurrection, of sorts.
I did just burst out laughing on this one. I'd have died of embarrassment listening to that homework. In my mind I'd be in the bahamas.
I was so embarrassed, I never wanted to see it again. It wasn't even a good vibe.
My only guess is that Kristen's therapist is trying to bring them closer together by getting them to agree that he is a total loon and to work together on forming a lie saying that you did this pinchypinch move without actually doing it.
I think I would quit any therapist who wanted me to give a handie. I hate giving handies.
"That chick wins at Penises, for sure." -- Fenton
I bet her FUPA's name is Shane, like the gunslinger/drifter of literature.--HappyTummy
I'm guessing this is to ramp up his horniness by extending his arousal time. And in the long run, this will make him want daily poon?
If it works, I'd be all, "Aight, let's PINCH THIS B!TCH!"
"As of page 2 this might be the most boring argument ever. It's making me long for Rape Day." - Mouse
I am a filthy, dirty girl. lol
Sorry, Will and I had to work on Lorne's birthday pie. Irish hostel:
When I did my study abroad thing in London we had a week off in the middle to go travel. My friend and I went to Ireland and went all around the south on a bus. We met these three Australian guys that we hung out with a lot. One night one of the Australians and I won prizes at a bar for popping the most balloons while simulating sex positions (fully clothed). That was also kind of embarrassing, but we got free beer out of the deal, so we drank our shame away.
Then we had a night in at the hostel we stayed at in Dingle, which is a tiny little town with one of the highest bar to resident ratios in Europe (and maybe the world). So we were all in a boozy mood when we went back to the hostel. After making a spaghetti dinner for us all to share, we went into the common room and sat around drinking and talking.
At one point, after I'd already had several beers and at least two shots of tequila, one of the Australians started giving my friend and I hell about how Americans can't hold their liquor. My friend, who is a smarter woman than I, laughed it off. Me, being drunk and competitive and belligerent, shouted, "Fucck you! I will match you drink for drink!"
So he pulls out a bottle of port. I was 22 and had never had port before. I figured it was about like drinking wine, not knowing that it was much stronger. He and I drank a bottle of port in ten minutes. Then we resumed drinking beer. So later in the night we were all sitting around the fireplace, bullshitting about something, and I guess I started to look sick. The guy I'd had the competitive port drinking game with handed me the coal bucket and I barfed.
And then I just sat there with the coal bucket in my lap, chatting with everyone, and occasionally barfing into the coal bucket like it was no big deal, until everyone was ready to go to bed. And then my friend and my new Australian buddy had to help me up the stairs to my room, and for some reason they decided I needed to sleep on the top bunk, so the Australian guy hefted me up there. I don't know how he did it, I am not small and was even more not small then.
So then the next morning I wake up all hazy, not remembering the coal bucket right away. I went in the bathroom to shower and get dressed. When I looked in the mirror, my face was ringed in black. My whole forehead, chin, the sides of my face, covered in coal dust. Then I had coal smudges all over my nose and cheeks and it all came flooding back to me. The teasing was merciless.
But then we all went to Galway, and they convinced me to drink with them again, and I did, though not to the extent I had the night before. Then my Australian friend tried to convince me to sleep with him. (I didn't.) So I guess barfing into a coal bucket after drinking more alcohol than I ever had in my entire life was a turn on for him. Australians are freaky.
Moral of the story: Australians are a bad influence.
Last year the fiance got me a vibrator for Christmas. Because he's awesome.