How Many Chucks Does A Woodchuck Chuck?

A while back, I was hooking up with a girl, let's call her Liz Woodchuk. Not to say that my standards are anywhere as low as Boppers, but that was not my shinning moment. Anyway, for those of you who don't know, Liz was still in full control of her V-Card when I was with her and she was rather reluctant to let it go. A little birdie once told me 'the best way to a woman's v-card is to invite Senor Cuervo to the party'. So one night in Febuary I get a hold of a bottle of tequila and me and Liz start doing shots together. One thing leads to another and we start fooling around. She's on top of me and she makes it known that she is "ready". So she goes down on me. Now, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure (which I believe is everyone privy to this email list minus Greg), Liz Woodchuck give head just like her surname would in the forests of Narnia. It was like getting blown by a food processor. I, quite loudly, tell her to stop. And she tells me that she quote "wants to do it." So we start "doing it". Now, if you think getting head from her was bad, imagine having sex with an assorted collection of dead flounders. I could have sworn she had sandpaper...in her vagina. So she stops at my request. So we're lying there and me, not realizing this is her first time mainly because I'm an insensitive prick, asked her to go down on me. She looks at me and starts crying, saying how she can't believe that I would ask her to do that after her first time. I told her that I forgot, mainly because I was in so much agony that my balls had turned the same color of Bobo's face after Anotnocci smoked him in the face with a chair (remember that fiasco?). So she leaves and I'm left to my own devices (a bottle of hand lotion and some kleenex). I turn the lights on and look down at my formerly gray underpants...which now looked like the underpants of a D-Day soldier who had been shot in the groin. When I say there was blood everywhere I mean there was blood FUCKING EVERYWHERE! My sheets, my shirt, my underwhere, it looked like a fucking double-homicide in my room. So the next morning I called Liz and told her what had happened, I thought she was seriously wounded and maybe a bit dizzy because she had lost so much blood. And so I hear her denying it on the other end of the phone, so I ask her how the fuck did all this blood get on my sheets and her response was "I think I got a bloody nose" Well...I can pretty much say that was the end of the Woodchuck relationship thank god, and now I'm whipped.