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February 27, 2007

True Confessions: The Night Angelina Jolie Blew Me

Guest editorial by Kyle Richter, Penn State Class of 2008

It was a dark and stormy night (really, it was!) and I had just gotten off work at my job in the student union. I pulled my coat closer to me to keep the November wind out, and that's when I saw her: Angelina Jolie, sex goddess and Pitt-meat muncher.

She was standing next to my car, wearing nothing but a yellow raincoat and a pair of cheap WalMart flip-flops. I started to say something but she interrupted.

"Shut the fuck up and open the car door!" she screamed at me.

Oka-a-a-a-a-y, then! I unlocked my 1987 Honda and she got in, opening her coat and showing off her hot body.

"Let's do this," she muttered, unzipping my fly and pressing those lips on my beefsteak. She slurped on my business like she hadn't eaten in a week, and - if I hadn't whacked off in the john about 5:00 when I saw this Delta Phi babe walk by the food court where I work - I would have blown my load in about 12 seconds.

I lasted about three minutes before payday, and she greedily inhaled every drop of my spooge, making this weird grunting noise that sounded kind of like a gazelle choking on a wad of savannah grass.

I only know that sound from watching this shitty Animal Planet episode; it was like "hurnk! hurnk! hurnk!"

She got out of the car, turned around, and said to me: "Don't say a fucking word to anyone about this, ass-face, or I will come back and kick your teeth in."

And she meant it, too. But I figure: it's been three months, and if she was going to kick my ass, she'd have done it by now, because everyone in the Quad already knows about me and my blowjob from Angelina Jolie.

And, while I admit it was pretty cool getting sucked off by her, Angelina Jolie takes to a dick like a hillbilly gnawing on a corncob. I looked down afterward, and my shaft was black and blue, dude. Straight up, hand-to-God - freakiest night of my life.

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Dude's a real hee-ro.
 
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