So around 1 'o clock on said Saturday, I showed up at her house. She opened the door, pulled me inside, and started furiously kissing me.
Surprised, but definitely not thinking ahead, I started kissing her back. We migrated into a room containing a TV set and a couch, the latter of which Tiffany had thought to cover awkwardly with several blankets. After sitting me down on the couch, she walked over to the TV and turned it on, for what I assumed would be background noise.
"Do you mind if I put this in, while we...?" her voice trailed off, as she held up the case for the movie Saw IV.
"Um, sure?" I answered, not sure of what to make of the scene.
She put in the movie, started it, dimmed the lights and walked back over to me on the couch. Sitting on my lap, she started kissing me again as the opening of the movie began.
Aside #2: For those of you that have never seen a Saw film before, every film begins with one of the series' infamous "traps" being sprung on a person or a few people.
Clothes started coming off, and things started getting...more passionate (for lack of a better word). Soon enough, we were both completely naked and kissing on her couch. What happened next should have been easy, except for one problem: having a gory film play in the background is not my idea of "setting the mood." Simply put, the film's content was distracting me to the point of flaccidity, despite the fact that I had a perfectly attractive, naked young woman sitting on the same piece of furniture as me, practically begging me to have sex with her.
So I did what any man would do when put into this position: I made the best of an awful fucking situation. First, I positioned Tiffany between the TV screen and myself, ensuring that it was out of view. Second, I forced blood to rush to my penis with pure willpower alone, in a feeble attempt to retain some piece of my manhood throughout this event.
Not long later, after what felt like an erectile marathon, I finally felt like I could say I had finished without rousing suspicion.
Aside #3: We fake orgasms too, ladies. But only when we have to.
"I'm going to go take a shower. You're welcome to join me," she told me, after we'd caught our breath.
"Um, I need to go home pretty soon, so I think I'll just go," I replied, still trying to act normally.
So I got up, got dressed, and left.
But the story doesn't end there. After Amanda had found out about Tiffany and I's tryst, she was, of course, upset. But not with me. Apparently, Tiffany had lied to the both of us about the status of her relationship, meaning that I was nothing but a trophy, and Amanda was nothing more than squashed competition.
Of course, Amanda wasn't too happy about this, and told Tiffany's boyfriend about what had happened (kindly omitting my name), and they broke up. Less than two weeks later, I received a call from Tiffany, crying, claiming that I had impregnated her. I only said four words before hanging up and never speaking to her again:
"I didn't come, bitch."