The story of “Ragu”

It’s been a few months since I have posted. Sorry for the wait. Since the last time I have posted I have moved to another state, changed careers, let go of some lovers, hoed around a little, sold drugs, been extra broke, got money back, lived with my daughter, among other things. All of which is too much to  break down into pieces and explain. Shit happens. Moving on…There is a really funny story from my past [ as Berney Mack would say “Long, long, long, long, long, long time ago”] that my friends really enjoy hearing me tell. Out of respect for the other parties and the offender I have never written about this story [to my recollection] and have only told the story in person to close knit friends. Now I figure that enough time has passed and I can speak about the event freely without anyone getting their feelings hurt. And I need a hard hitting come back and I think it  fits the bill. For those of you who have known me since college, you have heard this story several times. For the newbies…be warned. this story is graphic, terribly nasty, and 100% true. I present to some and retell to others the “Story of Ragu”:

Now, before we get into the story you have to know the reference. “Ragu” is a pasta sauce, that since I have sat down to write this story have learned that my friends and I actually confused with another brand name pasta sauce by the name of “Prego”. This fact is neither here nor there. The name still stands. Again I mention this because you have to know the reference, which I have provided for you below. YOU MUST WATCH THE VIDEO TO GET THE JOKE. If you do not, you will be confused at the punchline.

Remember “Ragu = Prego”

The punchline = “It’s in there…”

Back in my college days I was THEE “wing man”. Anytime my fraternity brothers needed someone to “entertain” [I am using this word all inclusively] a less than savory tag- a- long or run interference I was there. On this particular night I received a call around 8-ish from one of my brothers requesting my presence. I “suited up” and the pair of chicas arrived at his house shortly after I did. Few words were used because this was a “business” meeting. We got to it rather quickly. So there we are, in one room, at the frat house, on one bed. My frat brother within arms reach on my right, and the tag-a-long and I on the other end. He opted to receive head first from his chica, I chose to give to mine…because I am nice ;). Clothes are off and I am making my way down “the trail” to her genitals. I started from the neck and had reached her breast when I decided to perform a “check”. Good thing I did, because if not this story would have been drastically different. Two fingers in, I’m doing my thing still making my way down. When my lips reached her belly button everything went wrong. My “check” turned into an actual “check up”. I’m no OB/GYN but I know what the inside of a punani is supposed to feel like. My fingers had found a foreign object on the top left side of her insides. “No biggie” I thought to myself, everyone is different. I continued but made my way back up to her breast until further analysis. Upon further analysis I was able to move the object thereby confirming it’s status as foreign [mind you, the whole while my frat brother is within arms reach on my right side going HAM with his chic]. I sat up, and just kept touching “it”. Shortly after she say up and said “what’s wrong”, to which I replied “there is something in there”. We went back and fourth like this for about a minute until I got frustrated and said “Get up and go to the bathroom, there is something in there that ain’t supposed to be there”. She went. I patiently waited in the living room for about an hour or so. The whole time I did not hear a peep from her. I didn’t care too much , the deal was off anyway. Enough time passed to where my frat brother and friend finished. She came out of the room first inquiring about her friend. I just pointed to the bathroom. My frat brother came out of the room some time after with a smile on his face asking “what happened”, to which I replied “Yo, she had something in her pussy that wasn’t supposed to be there…I ain’t fucking with it”. He cracked up laughing, and then stated “whatever, I got mine”. He and I sat on the couch drinking for an additional hour before he got up and busted into the bathroom. Both woman were fully dressed and headed out as he was coming in. The only words that they spoke as they made their way out of the bathroom and out the door were “we have to go”. Neither my frat brother nor I stopped them. I went back home. Cut scene to about two o’clock that morning. I called my frat brother back to find out what had happened because I knew that he could get the juice from his chic. He told me as much as he could get out between laughs “aaaaaaa man that chic had a week old tampon stuck in her”. I was fucking mortified.

The next day I was telling the story to a few of my friends around the frat tree and at the end of it one of my female friends in between snorts of laughter said ” we should call her Ragu”. I asked why to which she replied “because it’s in there”. Till this day we still call her Ragu [but her name should have been Prego].

*drops mic*

Sexual Chocolate everybody!!!

© Stephen R. Freshley and wordbending, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this
material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Stephen R. Freshley and Word Bending a secret but not so secret blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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