Be forewarned, this entry contains words of a sexually explicit nature. If such things offend you, I advise against reading it.
Between my ex-wife and Tiffany, I didn’t have any long-term relationships. There were a couple of one-nighters and some repeats, but nothing noteworthy. Actually, my relationship with Tiffany wasn’t particularly noteworthy, except for the fact that we managed to stay together for about six months. We started out as friends, then lovers, and then ended up as friends again.
Tiffany was a skycap at the airport where I worked, Phoenix Sky Harbor. At the time I met her, I was a gate agent for America West Airlines. Tiffany was a very friendly girl, often times hanging out at the gate where I was working to chat with me. She wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but what she lacked in intelligence she made up for in her upbeat and positive attitude. Everyone liked Tiffany.
I cannot remember asking Tiffany out on our first date or even where I took her. As with most of my past relationships, it is the sexual aspects I remember best. Tiffany ranked right up there with the best of them, which may be the real reason for our relationship’s longevity. Tiffany had a tall athletic body and she knew how to use it in the most interesting ways.
One question that I have been asked on a few occasions by close friends is where the most interesting place I ever had sex is. I have been to many countries and have had sex in many exotic places, but the most interesting place involved Tiffany and occurred right behind her house in Scottsdale, Arizona, in a ditch.
It was late one evening after a date and I was dropping Tiffany off where she lived. She still lived with her parents and they were home on this particular evening. “Wait here,” She said as I opened her door to let her out of my car. She ran inside of her house and then shortly returned. Grabbing me by the hand, she said, “Come with me.” She then led me around to the back of her house to a large ditch. “Let’s do it,” She said, snuggling up against me.
Looking around the area, I immediately became alarmed. We were standing between a row of several houses in a large housing development. From where I stood, I could see inside of peoples’ houses. In fact, I saw several people clearly, eating in their kitchens, watching TV in their living rooms, and sitting outside on their porches.
I protested, saying that we should find somewhere more private, but Tiffany was persistent. She began taking off her clothes, saying, “Come on. I’m so horny.” My animalistic urges took control of me and I obliged her. It was cold. It was muddy. It was wild. And it was in plain sight of several of Tiffany’s neighbors. I remember being scared at first, fearing that we would be caught. We were in plain sight of several households. But, passion prevailed and I allowed myself to throw caution to the wind and have sex with Tiffany in a filthy, muddy, freezing ditch in the middle of a Scottsdale, Arizona subdivision. Later, we used the hose at her house to wash off. It was surprising that her parents didn’t hear the running water. Maybe they did, but didn’t say anything about it. It was certainly an exciting experience. Up until that night, I had only had sex in one public place, a pubic park in Salt Lake City, Utah with a girl I met in a bar one night. That happened shortly after I divorced my first wife. That was an exciting experience, too, but not like the ditch episode.
Because Tiffany was all body and little brains, our relationship didn’t get very serious. We just remained friends who had sex when the urge came up. This went on for several months until we had ran the gamut of exciting physical things we could do together. Then we were back to being just friends.
As I write this and several other entries, it is self evident that a great many of my recollections center around sex. Sex has been a focal point for most of my adult life and has been the making or breaking point of many relationships. My relationship with Tiffany lasted so long because the sex was good. Without good sex, there is nothing to fall back on when problems arise in a relationship. The ill feelings that arise with such things like arguments have no way of dissipating by themselves. They are harbored inside and build up over time, causing irreversible damage. Such was the case in my first marriage and such is currently the case in my second. Good sex can be a stepping stone to solving relationship problems, an outlet if you will. It brings emotional combatants together on the same playing field. Good sex is something I didn’t have at the last half of my first marriage and for most of my second. Because of this, there has been little reconciliation in both marriages. I need to outline my problems with my second marriage in other entries, so that a clearer picture is drawn. Clarity of mind is always a good thing when trying to solve problems in a relationship.
Another experience regarding Tiffany comes to mind. Yes, it has to do with something sexual again. It occurred after Tiffany and I had broken up as lovers and returned to being just friends.
I had been going on monthly trips to Mexico, to the various tourist locales there. Along with me were several of my friends, mainly coworkers. Tiffany knew about these trips and wanted to go on one. I helped her out by giving her a buddy pass, which is reduced airfare, and agreeing to share the cost of a hotel room.
We went to Acapulco with a couple dozen friends. Upon arriving there, we began to drink heavily. Most of the group lounged around the beach area, drinking Corona, by day and partied in the clubs, drinking Tequila and more Corona, at night. This went on for the brunt of the four days we were there. Tiffany and I usually saw each other only at night in the hotel room, sleeping in separate beds, as we hung out with different people during the trip.
On the second night, I was at a club on the beach, not surprisingly called “The Beach”. I was hanging out with my friends and coworkers, Jeff Moennich, Kelly Sponseller, Clint Schlundt, and Julie Jordan. I saw Tiffany there at the club with another friend and coworker, Charina Sabel.
I could sense that Tiffany had been drinking a lot by the way she was swaying back and forth, like a tree in the wind, as she stood talking to Charina. Then, Charina pointed to us and Tiffany looked over. One look at Tiffany’s squinting eyes confirmed my suspicion. By the way she looked; she was probably seeing double of everything. She walked toward us doing the Weeble wobble.
Wobbling Weebles may never fall down, but wobbling Tiffanys certainly do. Just before she reached us, Tiffany took a nosedive headfirst into the sand at our feet. Clint said, “I think this girl has had enough for the night.” We all nodded affirmatively. “Why don’t you take her back to the hotel, Brad?” Julie requested. I was reluctant, but didn’t express that feeling. Instead, I helped Tiffany to her feet and steadied her as we walked through the throngs of people at the club to the exit.
As we walked back to the hotel, Tiffany protested. She was feeling the effects of several shots of Tequila, no doubt, and was in the mood to party. I knew she was in no condition to continue partying, so I insisted that she return with me to the hotel. It was my intention to put her in bed and then head back to the club.
We had almost reached the hotel when three Italian guys approached us, heading in the opposite direction. They were probably headed to The Beach club, judging by their clothes. They were all wearing white cotton shirts and shorts. The only other thing they wore were leather sandals.
“Oh, the Italian boys!” Tiffany exclaimed as we approached the three Italian guys. They smiled and went up to Tiffany, who gave them each a hug and kiss. “I met them on the beach this afternoon,” She said to me as she hugged and kissed each of them again, “Aren’t they cute?” I smiled politely at them. Then I pointed to Tiffany and put my thumb to my mouth with my pinkie extended, trying to indicate that she had been drinking a lot. They laughed and nodded affirmatively. “Come to bed with me boys!” Tiffany yelled out. Then she tried to motion them to go with her to the hotel. They didn’t speak a word of English, but they understood what she wanted. They laughed again and shook their heads to the contrary, trying to break away from Tiffany. She persisted, holding on to them while beginning to undo her shirt. “Come on!” She screamed, “You want some of this?”
I noticed that some people had stopped walking on the other side of the street and were staring at us. I went up to Tiffany and separated her from the Italian guys. I wasn’t her lover anymore, but I was her friend and didn’t want to see her embarrass herself in public,
“Stop it,” She said to me, “I want to fuck these boys.” Then reaching out, she grabbed one of them by the crotch. “I want some of that big Italian sausage!” She demanded. He managed to break away from her grip and held her arm down so that she couldn’t grab him or his friends again. Luckily, he was understanding to the situation and to Tiffany’s state of mind.
Tiffany was about to make a scene and I knew it. I had to do something to stop that from happening. Using the little Italian I knew, I asked the guys to help me take her to the hotel. I figured it would be easier and less of a problem to break Tiffany away from the Italians once we were all in the room and away from other people. We already were becoming a public spectacle, as people gathered around to see the skinny drunk blonde, Tiffany, grope three Italian guys.
All five of us went to the hotel and up the elevator to the room. On the way up, Tiffany literally forced herself on the three Italians. They must have felt this was too good of an opportunity to pass up (most men would), so they accepted Tiffany’s advances. There was a lot of sloppy French kissing and heat-of-the-moment body groping exchanged between Tiffany and the Italians in that elevator. Finally, we reached our floor. The heavy petting continued all the way down the hall and into our room. As soon as the door closed, Tiffany ripped off her shirt and jumped onto the bed. Then, she hurriedly removed her shoes, socks, pants, and panties. She did it so fast and with such determination that there was no chance of stopping her.
Completely naked, Tiffany laid back on the bed and spread open her legs. “Okay boys! Fuck me!” She yelled. One of them approached the side of the bed, quite puzzled by the situation. “Fuck me, I said!” Tiffany demanded again. Sensing that the Italian guy wasn’t ready to have sex with Tiffany, but might be willing, I said, “Tiffany, he isn’t ready to fuck you.” “What do you mean?” She asked as she reached over and touched the Italian. “He isn’t turned on yet. He has to be hard before he can fuck you.” Even thoroughly drunk, Tiffany understood this. Grabbing the shorts of the Italian standing at her bedside, Tiffany pulled them down to the floor and exposed, as suspected, a flaccid penis.
“He’s hard,” Tiffany pronounced and then slapped the Italian’s penis with her hand. He winced in pain, but did not back away. Meanwhile, the other two Italians drew near to Tiffany. I knew they were willing to participate in her alcohol-induced fantasy. “Tiffany, you have to suck on his dick,” I instructed. I, too, had a fantasy of directing a porno movie and this situation was playing right into that nicely. Tiffany followed my direction and put the Italian’s penis in her mouth. She began to suck up and down on his penis and then paused momentarily, demanding, “Get a condom.” Obviously, she wasn’t drunk enough to not protect herself from an STD or pregnancy.
In my broken Italian, I asked the guys if they had a condom. None of them did. I went to my toiletry kit and got one. When I handed it to Tiffany, she couldn’t open it. I took it back, opened it, and then took it out of the wrapper and handed it to her. As I was doing all this, the two Italian guys, the ones who weren’t getting blown by Tiffany, were rubbing her all over. At the moment I handed her the condom, one of them began playing with her pussy. She forgot about sucking on the first Italian’s still-flaccid penis and slumped back onto the bed moaning. She let the unused condom fall to the floor.
Tiffany began to squirm and moan beneath the probing fingers of the two Italians. Sensing that his blow job was over, the first Italian joined in the finger play. Suddenly, Tiffany said, “Wait!” and got up from the bed. She looked around for a moment in a drunken haze and then went outside to the veranda. Through the floor to ceiling window, we watched her lean over the railing on the veranda and then stand straight up. Pushing her chest forward, she took a deep breath of air and then let it out slowly. I got the impression that she was trying to sober up her head so that she wouldn’t do anything that she would later regret. “Too late for that,” I thought.
I went out on the patio with her. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Sure,” She said, turning to face me. She strained to focus on me and swaggered a bit as she demanded, “Now give me those Italian cocks!”
I positioned one of the patio chairs behind Tiffany and helped her sit down in it. Then, I motioned to the three Italian guys to join us on the veranda. As they stood around Tiffany and started caressing her, I stepped back into the room.
I played the voyeur, watching as they kissed Tiffany, rubbed their hands all over her body, and sucking on her breasts. Tiffany moaned and cooed as they did this. She spread her legs and guided one of the roaming hands to her pussy. Thrusting her groan up into the air, she grabbed one of the Italian’s by the hair and pulled his mouth down over her hairless pussy. (Per my request, Tiffany began shaving off all her pubic hair when we were dating and the habit continued afterward. I started many girls on this road to better personal hygiene.) He began to lick her clit up and down, like a hungry dog. I remember thinking that those three Italians were good lovers. However, who wouldn’t be, given the same situation?
They each took turns going down on Tiffany. Though she obviously enjoyed it, she wasn’t getting off. I think her erogenous zones had been numbed by the huge amount of alcohol she had ingested that evening. After a while, I sensed the Italian guys were growing impatient. They said something to one another in Italian. I thought they wanted to have sex with Tiffany, so I got another condom and tried to give it to them.
Apparently, the Italians had lost their desire to have sex with Tiffany or never had it in the first place, as they all three rejected my condom offer in turn. In fact, the bottomless one went back into the room to put his shorts on before returning to continue the finger and tongue play on Tiffany’s body.
Sensing everyone’s growing impatience to a finality for this activity, I looked around the room for something that could be inserted into Tiffany’s vagina and used as a dildo. Then I saw it, an empty Corona bottle on the dresser. I don’t remember if it was Tiffany or I who had left it there earlier in the day, but it looked just right to fill Tiffany’s urges.
I handed the Corona bottle to one of the Italians and he knew immediately what to do with it. He slowly worked it up inside of Tiffany’s vagina and then back out. He repeated this action, going a bit deeper and faster. Tiffany moaned with pleasure, spreading her legs wider and pulling them back from behind her knees. One of the other Italians crouched under her and began licking her rectum. “Yes!” Tiffany squealed, “Tongue my asshole!” I thought this would get her off in no time. However, it didn’t.
Each one of the Italians took turns pumping the Corona bottle back and forth into Tiffany and performing analingus.
They grew impatient again, waiting for Tiffany’s orgasm. So, I took a turn with the bottle. Knowing that Tiffany enjoyed dirty talk, I spoke to her, “Tiffany, look at you,” I said, “You’re such a nasty girl, aren’t you?” “Mm hmmm,” She acknowledged through gasps of air. I continued pushing the Corona bottle in and out of her vagina. “You like that bottle in your tight little cunt, you nasty girl?” I asked, “Does it make you want to cum for us, nasty girl?” “Oh yes!” Tiffany screamed. Then she pulled her spread legs back even more. The Italians sensed that this dirty talk was having an effect on Tiffany. The other two that weren’t under Tiffany, began playing with her, kissing her, sucking on her breasts, and licking her all over.
At this point, Tiffany looked down at the Corona bottle being thrust into her and the Italian below, licking her rectum. This sight, coupled with the dirty talk and concerted effort of the three men, was what she needed to finally get off. “Oh god, yes!” She screamed, bucking her hips into the thrusting Corona bottle and probing tongue, “I’m going to cum.” I quickened the pace with the in and out action of the Corona bottle. Tiffany’s feet, dangling in the air, began twitching and shaking. “I’m cumming!” She yelled. Her body shuddered with the spasms of a violent orgasm. Then she fell back into the chair. She was finally satiated, and spent.
A moment later, Tiffany jumped to her feet and walked into the room towards the bed. She pulled back the covers and climbed underneath. Without looking back, she pulled the covers over her head and said, “Goodnight boys. Thanks.”
I looked at the three Italian guys, shrugged my shoulders, and motioned to the door. They made their way back inside the room, and to the outside door. They chuckled as they left, saying “Tchau!” After closing and locking the door, I watched some TV and then fell asleep,
In the morning, I awoke to see that Tiffany was no longer in her bed. In fact, she wasn’t even in the room. She had gotten up before me and left.
I took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel restaurant for some breakfast. On the way down, I told myself, “Don’t ever tell anyone about what happened last night. They would never believe it.”
Upon reaching the hotel restaurant, I saw my friends Jeff and Kelly seated at a table eating breakfast. They motioned me to join them. I went over to their table and sat down. They both smiled at me and Kelly said, “So tell us about the three Italians and the Corona bottle.”
I couldn’t believe it. They knew about what happened the night before. “Who told you guys about that?” I asked. “Tiffany,” Jeff responded, “She said she couldn’t believe what she had done and we asked her what she was talking about and she told us.” “What did she tell you? I asked them. They proceeded to relate the whole episode I had experienced the previous night, in detail. It was surprising to me that Tiffany remembered everything, as she had been extremely inebriated during the occurrence. What I found more surprising was the fact that she had related the incident, in detail, to Jeff and Kelly. The good thing was that I didn’t need to keep it a secret, as Tiffany herself had revealed what had happened.
We had a motto on those trips, “What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico”. Because of this, Tiffany’s story didn’t go beyond those people who had accompanied us on that trip to Mexico. It wasn’t until now, years after the trip, that it is brought up again. And I only do so as an indicator to what my lifestyle was back then. I do not mean any disrespect to anyone mentioned in this entry or any other entries. These are merely snapshots of a certain time and place and should be seen as nothing more. I am no longer the person I was then and I’m certain everyone else has changed, too.