And now... the spotlight is hers:
Brandon and I talk about the most ridiculous things on twitter. You see, what started as a conversation about wordpress plugins somehow ended up in a conversation about cactus fucking, treadmill sex and who The Bloggess loves more. (Clearly it's me, sorry Brandon. Chicks before dicks and all that jazz.) During these tweets we came up with the idea of me guest posting so that all of you could read about the time I managed to fuck my boyfriend while he was running.
Back it up - you see, my boyfriend always says the most ridiculous things as exclamations when something was frustrating. One of his favorites was "fuck me running." In the beginning I would roll my eyes and giggle at the image in my head... my boyfriend in jogging shorts running down the street like any other day, only his penis is totally out and I'm naked with my legs wrapped around his waist? Somehow I doubt the neighborhood watch people would approve. (Although, if we got arrested the good news is the judge would probably laugh it out of court or we'd end up famous because Jay Leno would make fun of us mercilessly.)
The second attempt was an actual attempt in the living room. We started at the kitchen and he picked me up and started to run towards to other side of the floor of our townhouse. Unfortunately, either I'm too heavy, or he was too weak, because we only made it three steps before collapsing to the floor. (This ended up resulting in a bruise on my ass that made it painfully uncomfortable to sit down for a week.)
I was starting to become discouraged, but one day we were sitting in the living room watching the TV and one of the commercials that plays at 3AM to make you feel like you're lazy for shoving your face with ice-cream after a night of drinking for the Treadclimber came on. I'm not sure if it was the alcohol which played a part in this but a light bulb went off in my head. I could fuck him running if I was stationary and supporting my own weight while he was running and that could totally be accomplished by using a treadmill.
Keep in mind it was 3AM at this point and we had been out drinking. We searched the townhouse high and low for the key to our apartment complex's gym and upon finding it ran like the wind to the complex gym, shedding our clothes on the way. Unfortunately, because we had been drinking, there was a little problem down there, and I had to preform some oral support to get it working... but once I did, we hopped on the treadmill. I supported my weight by holding myself up on the arms of the treadmill, and he started walking at a brisk pace.
Sort of.
You see, when we got really into it, my rear ended up hitting the buttons on the treadmill and it started speeding up... to the point where he wasn't fucking me anymore, he was just running, and we were drunk, and well, he might have fallen. That's how he got the treadmill bruise on his penis that stopped us from fucking for almost a month.
It was totally worth it though - because how many other girls can actually say they fucked their boyfriend running?
