Post by spideyfan914 on Apr 28, 2010 21:40:39 GMT -6
I held her in my arms, and she wrapped hers around mine. We leaned in close – at last. Finally, it was time.
“Aaaaand…. begin.”
Our lips met at last, and Tom began the stopwatch.
“Current record: 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. The kiss must be continuous and the lips must be touching at all times. If the lips part, the couple is immediately disqualified. Contestants must be over the age of consent in the country the event is being held. The couple must be awake at all times. The contestants must stand during the attempt and cannot be propped together by any aids, such as pillows, cushions or people. No rest breaks are allowed. Incontinence pads or adult nappies/diapers are not allowed. Couples must not leave the venue during their attempt.”
Tom would be our witness, but to be honest, I never really liked him. He’s annoying as hell, and likes to butt into other people’s business. Of course, that’s why we chose him for the role; anyone else would just feel awkward staring at us make out for nearly a day and a half.
But we were determined. Lucy and I met two years ago at Joe Jameson’s pub downtown. It was love at first sight. Still, we took it slowly at first, and waited three months before she moved in. We have now been engaged for one year, with the wedding scheduled for next week (it was delayed so Lucy’s sister could come home from overseas).
Our love has been strong. We’ve always been there to support each other, we trust one another absolutely, we practically share a mind, and she’s flaming hot. It doesn’t make sense for some German couple to hold the Guinness Record for love when we deserve so much more. This will be our proof.
“Two minutes, and still going strong! Great job – only another 32 hours, 5 minutes, and 14 seconds to go!”
Going strong, indeed. We were using lots of tongue – more than I can remember ever using before. This whole thing would be a cinch. After all, it’s not like we ever want to split up – we only do so because the telephone rings, or I have to go to work, or something like that. Well, the phone’s unplugged, the boss thinks I’m out sick, and Tom will ward off anyone who tries to disturb the longest kiss.
We’ve been planning this out for a while now. We came up with the idea about a month ago, and looked up the rules and past record shortly afterward. The Guinness Record is 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds, held by German couple Nikola Matovic and Kristina Reinhart (or at least, the website said “German,” though I believe the name “Nikola” sounds more Russian – it doesn’t matter, really) in 2009. If we beat that, we get the new record.
We’re aiming for more, though. In 1999, Neli van der Hoeven (Netherlands) and Wanderley Coasta e Silva (Spain) kissed for 34 hours and 11 minutes, but it was never proven, and thus did not make the Guinness. Granted, it’s probably fake – one would have to be quite idiotic to plan a 34 hour kiss and forget a witness – but by principle, Lucy and I plan to overcome that too!
Well, actually, the site says that a different competition with different rules has recorded an 834 hour kiss, but we decided that one doesn’t count.
After we set our goal, the next step was to figure out where the record-setting would go down. The natural pick would be our apartment, but since the rules demanded for us to stand, we figured that the hard wooden floors would be uncomfortable, and the landlady would always bug us at our apartment too. So I called up my mom and booked her basement for the day. The carpeted floor would do well on our feet, and she even has a coffee-maker to keep our witness awake.
Speaking of whom, we booked Tom about two weeks ago. His brother is best friends with my co-worker’s wife. We met at their wedding party about a year ago; he was all over me and Lucy. He even asked us how frequently we “did it.” Last month, Lucy convinced me that if he really wanted to know, he could get all the details up close and personal.
The rest of our preparation was making sure that Tom would be comfortable. He’s enough of a **** that he’d probably walk out on us with seconds left to the record if he wasn’t a hundred percent satisfied. We brought over a few luxuries from our apartment to give him a hand, including a fridge, a microwave, heck, we even bought him all his favorite foods from the supermarket.
To go with my mom’s TV, we brought over loads of movies as well as an Xbox360 and all the best games we could muster. He was quite pleased with the idea of getting to sit on his lazy butt watching movies and playing video games all day long on a 12.5’ plasma screen TV. Except we didn’t have a 12.5’ plasma screen TV – we had a 6.25’ flat screen TV. “You want me to stay there,” he told us, “you get a 12.5’ plasma screen TV.”
We got a 12.5’ plasma screen TV.
“32 minutes, 7 seconds – going good! About a sixtieth of the way there!”
All ready a week ahead of time, we spent the rest of the month in anticipation. We woke up this morning after a good night’s sleep and had an enormous pancake, sausage, and egg breakfast. After making love for a few minutes in the hope it would delay the inevitable boner, we both went to the bathroom and got everything out of our systems.
My mom doesn’t live far away, thankfully, so the ride wasn’t long. Tom drove himself, though, as our car only fits two people. Maybe out of resentment of that, he was late. That means that we were trapped talking with Mother for a good hour.
Now I love my mother, I really do, but she’s just so Jewish. I don’t mean that in a bad way – I’m Jewish too – but she’s what we Jews call a “kvetch,” or “one who kvetches.” She complains about everything – her clothes are too tight, her back aches, her feet are swollen like watermelons, the house is a mess, the sinks drips, I don’t visit her enough, the media’s trash, her book is too slow, the dog never helps around the house, the TV’s too big, the president’s black, she needs to go to the shop.
“1 hour, 17 minutes, 33 seconds – almost there! Oh, wait, no, never mind….”
Whoop – there it goes! You can try to delay the inevitable, but it can only stay floppy for so long. I bet I set a record there too, actually. I mean, technically speaking, I’d been feeling it coming for a while now, but it was ignorable. And then Lucy pushes the tongue a bit harder and up and out it goes! The sack drops and the rod’s up at ninety degrees.
Yeah, pretty awkward…. I mean, Lucy and I are going to be getting married and all, so popping out my head for her isn’t that awkward – it’s not doing anything about it that’s awkward. But we’re not so shameless that we’d strip down right in front of Tom, and the rules won’t let us lie down anyway. So I figured, “Hey, maybe if I just wiggle a little, it’ll feel the same.”
Lucy started laughing out of her nose. I suppose it was pretty funny. I could only imagine what Tom’s face looked like, but this was when he turned on the TV, so….
And out it went! I could finally relax, though I must admit that the stain in my lap was quite bothersome, and it was dripping down my right leg too. I tried rubbing my legs together to soak it up with my sweats, but that only seemed to spread it.
“2 hours, 5 minutes, 6 seconds.”
No commentary that time. I suppose Tom was getting quite involved in his movie. I think he was playing Easy Virtue, unless I’m confusing the order (he watched quite a few movies over the time). All I remember for certain is that he started cracking up when the dog died. I always hated that part.
It was around then that my mom called down for Tom to keep it down and lower the volume – she was reading that book she hated and didn’t want to be disturbed by some obnoxious young man who came late to witness the son who doesn’t visit her enough make out with the fiancée who she doesn’t know well enough in the basement she doesn’t need but doesn’t want to become a hellhole with a TV that’s too big and sinful stains on the carpet. She reads us too well.
She never did much like our plans for a 32 hour, 7 minute, 14 second kiss, but we convinced her that if we didn’t do it in her basement, we’d do much worse in our apartment. She had no idea what we were talking about, but didn’t really want to know, and gave us the room. She even offered to make us matzo ball soup afterward, but we pointed out that we’d be exhausted and would want to go home by that point.
“3 hours, 23 minutes, 55 seconds. How you doing over there?”
We had been kissing for three and a half hours. To be honest, it was getting kind of old. But I wasn’t going to say anything about it – we had been planning this out for so long, I couldn’t break it off just because I was bored. Could I?
Seriously now, how could I tell Lucy that I had gotten bored of her kiss? The entire point of this whole thing was to prove that we loved each other more than anyone else who had ever lived! We were getting to set the Guinness Record of most committed lovers – the longest kiss!
It doesn’t matter if I’m getting bored. All that matters is the love which Lucy and I share for one another. Our marriage was scheduled the next week, you know.
Besides, maybe I’d pop another hard one – that always helps.
“5 hours, 48 minutes, 27 seconds. I’m gonna get myself a snack.”
I remember the first time Lucy and I kissed. It was the night we met – we had gone back to my place to pull a one-nighter. It was never said that we were to pull a one-nighter, but we both knew it. I offered to drive home, pointing out that she had had one more wine than I, and so she agreed.
She gave me directions to her place – the long way, of course. We listened to the Beatles the full way. As we got closer, however, she declared that she was hungry and asked for something to eat. I suggested ice-cream, and she applauded the idea. So she directed me to the local Ben & Jerry’s – the long way, again – and we got our favorite flavors: both chocolate!
Finally, we pulled up in front of her apartment. She thanked me for the ride and walked away. For a moment, I had blinked, wondering if she had actually just left without inviting me in, if she had actually just left my life forever. But the moment passed, as I saw her purse strategically situated underneath the chair.
Understanding, I picked it up and rang the bell. “You left your purse,” I said, and got the tactical invitation inside. We sat on the couch and talked for a while. “On the way up,” I recall saying, “I tried to ask for your room, but realized that I never actually caught your name; I had to refer to you as ‘the girl who just came in.’” She laughed and told me her name then, “Lucy.”
That clinched it – she had given me her name. All that then remained was the slow situation of arms around shoulders, one lowered to the waist, she leaned back as I leaned in, and our lips finally touched.
But it wasn’t what I expected. I was expecting the lust of a single night. I received the passion of a love to last a lifetime. That was when we knew that we were destined to marry.
And so we went to bed.
“7 hours, 34 minutes, 52 seconds. May I ask a question – how do you breath?”
Breathing was the least of our problems. We had carefully planned so that it wouldn’t happen, but I desperately needed to go to the bathroom. I took a ten-minute dump before getting in the car that morning, and yet there I was, bladder full and pushing with some lumps on their way out the other end!
Hold it in? I didn’t seem to have much choice. But we were only seven hours in and had to last 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds for the record! 34 hours, 11 minutes would win us over the unproven record as well. I’ve never been one for math, but 32 minus 7 is a good 23 hours! That’s almost a day! It was quite infuriating, but what else could I do – go in my pants?
Well, that’s what I did.
Okay, let me explain something. Stains in your lap are slightly uncomfortable. Lumps in your pants are very uncomfortable. Lucy was grimacing in under a minute – she has such a good sense of smell.
We had laughed when we first read the rule about “no diapers,” but after that little incident, I was quite wishful for diapers. I mean, who comes up with these rules? Diapers have nothing to do with kissing! I can understand why we can’t have people push us together, ‘cause that’s just cheating, but no diapers? Blasphemy!
I was beginning to get hungry too. But at least I wouldn’t get thirsty – we had our saliva to quench that one.
“9 hours, 58 minutes, 1 second. I knew I should’ve made you get me Febreze!”
That’s where the twist happened. About 10 hours in, we were still going strong. Our lips were together with a fiery passion, tongues going wild. But the rules didn’t demand tongue, and right there, 10 hours in, Lucy slowed down.
Why wasn’t she using tongue? Didn’t she love me? Did she not care enough to kiss me all out? Was she bored? Was she bored of me? Why didn’t she love me anymore? Our love is stronger than anyone else’s! Ever! Didn’t the Germans go strong for 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds? Couldn’t we beat them?
(Well, actually, the site said nothing about their experience, and they may very well have just been touching lips the entire time….)
What was Lucy’s problem? Why wasn’t she kissing me hard? Why was she getting bored? Was it something I did? Was I doing something wrong? Was it the dump I took? Did I go too far with that? Should I have held it in? Oh, God! Why didn’t I hold it in? I could’ve managed to last the day! Anything would’ve been better than losing Lucy’s love!
“13 hours, 20 minutes, 18 seconds. Loving this coffee-maker, guys!”
Lucy was still hardly using her tongue. And now the hunger was unbearable! I needed to eat something! Under this kind of pressure, most guys will resort to cannibalism!
I need to eat. I’m a guy. I have a fast metabolism. I’ve never been able to survive Yom Kippur – something my mom always complains about me (even though she complains that she’s too old to fast and excuses herself from it). When I get hungry, I get angry. And when I get angry, I get hungry. It’s kind of this weird thing about the workings of the male body. We have to eat constantly.
The standing was also starting to bug me. I thought the rugs were supposed to make things easier! And yet, my legs were aching like mad!
“17 hours, 42 minutes, 19 seconds. You’re more than halfway there!”
My mom would occasionally stick her head in to yell at us to keep it down, but she seemed to stop after my second “accident.” It would be a note for when we were done, but otherwise, I couldn’t care less. Tom just sprayed more Febreze.
She must’ve been pissed about the whole thing – I mean, she really did not seem happy at all when we told her. But whatever, I couldn’t care less.
“20 hours, 52 minutes, 23 seconds. You guys should do this for a living.”
Lucy had withdrawn her tongue entirely by that point. It was just me, still going in full. She looked bored and exhausted. I’m not going to lie – I was bored and exhausted too. But at least I still loved her! Why didn’t she love me anymore? What had gotten into her?
I was really, really hungry now. That was bothering me. But Lucy should’ve been better with that! She doesn’t eat as much; she doesn’t have as fast a metabolism! She should know that whatever she’s going through, I’m going through worse!
Was she mad about the smell? Maybe, but I mean, that’s just unfair – she did the same thing a few hours later! I hope she was just as uncomfortable as me! Serves her right!
“24 hours! One day gone! Oh, and by the way, I deleted the save file on your game to make room for mine.”
That ****!
“25 hours, 13 minutes, 32 seconds. Is it just me, or is this getting rather boring?”
My legs and back were killing me! I’d been standing up for over a day! And without any food or water!
Now, I know I said that we were fine without water because we had our saliva, but by this point, both our mouths were long dried out. Even our tongues were like shriveled pieces of cabbage. I felt more like I was stuffing a thick piece of hair hanging from my mouth into a very small pile of dirt than making out.
Lucy was obviously ready to give up. But how could she? We had planning this for a month! We were going to prove that our love was unsurpassable! We’d kiss for 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds or die trying! In fact, forget that – we’d make it all the way to 34 hours, 11 minutes easily! Nothing would stand in our way! We would get that record and next week we’d be married!
“28 hours, 38 minutes, 44 seconds. I think your mother left.”
Well of course my mom left! She’s off to the town with some friends she apparently has! Weren’t you paying attention to her rants yesterday, Tom? Oh wait, of course you didn’t – ‘cause you were late!
And what the hell was up with Lucy? She was really starting to piss me off! Not only did she refuse to make out with me, but now she was poking me! Poking! Like she’s so bored that all she could do to amuse herself was poke the guy she was going to be marrying in a week? Seriously, what the hell!
I grabbed her wrist in my fist and squeezed. She grabbed my nose and started wiggling it. I could see the corners of her mouth smiling. This was really getting on my nerves.
So I pulled her hair. But I did so strategically – a simple tug in one direction would probably yank her head away from mine, and then all this would be worth nothing more than a good laugh for Tom. So instead, I grabbed a strand of hair with each hand and pulled in opposite directions so that the forces would cancel each other out.
She bit my tongue.
“32 hours, 2 minutes, 38 seconds. Hey, can you guys fight again? I like it better when you fight.”
I wasn’t using tongue anymore. We weren’t hugging either. We merely stood there in silence with our lips protruding into each other. To pass the time, we stared at each other in a furious calm. It was like some sort of ultimate showdown.
I wanted to gut her, and she probably thought the same of me. There had been so much love in our two years together. Perhaps it had moved too quickly. It doesn’t matter. It was all gone now anyway. There was no love. Only undying hate.
We’d go to the end, though. We had come this far, and we weren’t about to turn back. 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. That’s all it would take to prove that we loved each other more than anyone else who had ever lived.
Except we didn’t.
We had a goal. 34 hours, 11 minutes. I’ve never been one for math, but that would mean another 2 hours with her! I wouldn’t be able to last that long – I was too tired, too hungry, too thirsty, and I really needed to change my clothes.
“32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. Congratulations – you beat the record! Care to go for –”
Lucy pulled away first, just so you know. She turned around and stormed up the stairs without saying a word or ever looking back.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”
Tom had a huge grin over his face, and looked to be on the verge of tears. I really hate that guy - to be honest, I never really liked him. He’s annoying as hell, and likes to butt into other people’s business. Of course, that’s why we chose him for the role; anyone else would just feel awkward staring at us make out for nearly a day and a half.
I could hear my mother upstairs going on to Lucy about how we’re finally done, and how rude and unholy the whole thing’s been, and how she prays that we didn’t mess up the basement, and how Lucy should stop walking away while she’s talking. Next, I heard the car revving up.
“Uh, you know…. You didn’t drive me…. So I’m not gonna drive you….”
Oh, ****!
“Aaaaand…. begin.”
Our lips met at last, and Tom began the stopwatch.
“Current record: 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. The kiss must be continuous and the lips must be touching at all times. If the lips part, the couple is immediately disqualified. Contestants must be over the age of consent in the country the event is being held. The couple must be awake at all times. The contestants must stand during the attempt and cannot be propped together by any aids, such as pillows, cushions or people. No rest breaks are allowed. Incontinence pads or adult nappies/diapers are not allowed. Couples must not leave the venue during their attempt.”
Tom would be our witness, but to be honest, I never really liked him. He’s annoying as hell, and likes to butt into other people’s business. Of course, that’s why we chose him for the role; anyone else would just feel awkward staring at us make out for nearly a day and a half.
But we were determined. Lucy and I met two years ago at Joe Jameson’s pub downtown. It was love at first sight. Still, we took it slowly at first, and waited three months before she moved in. We have now been engaged for one year, with the wedding scheduled for next week (it was delayed so Lucy’s sister could come home from overseas).
Our love has been strong. We’ve always been there to support each other, we trust one another absolutely, we practically share a mind, and she’s flaming hot. It doesn’t make sense for some German couple to hold the Guinness Record for love when we deserve so much more. This will be our proof.
“Two minutes, and still going strong! Great job – only another 32 hours, 5 minutes, and 14 seconds to go!”
Going strong, indeed. We were using lots of tongue – more than I can remember ever using before. This whole thing would be a cinch. After all, it’s not like we ever want to split up – we only do so because the telephone rings, or I have to go to work, or something like that. Well, the phone’s unplugged, the boss thinks I’m out sick, and Tom will ward off anyone who tries to disturb the longest kiss.
We’ve been planning this out for a while now. We came up with the idea about a month ago, and looked up the rules and past record shortly afterward. The Guinness Record is 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds, held by German couple Nikola Matovic and Kristina Reinhart (or at least, the website said “German,” though I believe the name “Nikola” sounds more Russian – it doesn’t matter, really) in 2009. If we beat that, we get the new record.
We’re aiming for more, though. In 1999, Neli van der Hoeven (Netherlands) and Wanderley Coasta e Silva (Spain) kissed for 34 hours and 11 minutes, but it was never proven, and thus did not make the Guinness. Granted, it’s probably fake – one would have to be quite idiotic to plan a 34 hour kiss and forget a witness – but by principle, Lucy and I plan to overcome that too!
Well, actually, the site says that a different competition with different rules has recorded an 834 hour kiss, but we decided that one doesn’t count.
After we set our goal, the next step was to figure out where the record-setting would go down. The natural pick would be our apartment, but since the rules demanded for us to stand, we figured that the hard wooden floors would be uncomfortable, and the landlady would always bug us at our apartment too. So I called up my mom and booked her basement for the day. The carpeted floor would do well on our feet, and she even has a coffee-maker to keep our witness awake.
Speaking of whom, we booked Tom about two weeks ago. His brother is best friends with my co-worker’s wife. We met at their wedding party about a year ago; he was all over me and Lucy. He even asked us how frequently we “did it.” Last month, Lucy convinced me that if he really wanted to know, he could get all the details up close and personal.
The rest of our preparation was making sure that Tom would be comfortable. He’s enough of a **** that he’d probably walk out on us with seconds left to the record if he wasn’t a hundred percent satisfied. We brought over a few luxuries from our apartment to give him a hand, including a fridge, a microwave, heck, we even bought him all his favorite foods from the supermarket.
To go with my mom’s TV, we brought over loads of movies as well as an Xbox360 and all the best games we could muster. He was quite pleased with the idea of getting to sit on his lazy butt watching movies and playing video games all day long on a 12.5’ plasma screen TV. Except we didn’t have a 12.5’ plasma screen TV – we had a 6.25’ flat screen TV. “You want me to stay there,” he told us, “you get a 12.5’ plasma screen TV.”
We got a 12.5’ plasma screen TV.
“32 minutes, 7 seconds – going good! About a sixtieth of the way there!”
All ready a week ahead of time, we spent the rest of the month in anticipation. We woke up this morning after a good night’s sleep and had an enormous pancake, sausage, and egg breakfast. After making love for a few minutes in the hope it would delay the inevitable boner, we both went to the bathroom and got everything out of our systems.
My mom doesn’t live far away, thankfully, so the ride wasn’t long. Tom drove himself, though, as our car only fits two people. Maybe out of resentment of that, he was late. That means that we were trapped talking with Mother for a good hour.
Now I love my mother, I really do, but she’s just so Jewish. I don’t mean that in a bad way – I’m Jewish too – but she’s what we Jews call a “kvetch,” or “one who kvetches.” She complains about everything – her clothes are too tight, her back aches, her feet are swollen like watermelons, the house is a mess, the sinks drips, I don’t visit her enough, the media’s trash, her book is too slow, the dog never helps around the house, the TV’s too big, the president’s black, she needs to go to the shop.
“1 hour, 17 minutes, 33 seconds – almost there! Oh, wait, no, never mind….”
Whoop – there it goes! You can try to delay the inevitable, but it can only stay floppy for so long. I bet I set a record there too, actually. I mean, technically speaking, I’d been feeling it coming for a while now, but it was ignorable. And then Lucy pushes the tongue a bit harder and up and out it goes! The sack drops and the rod’s up at ninety degrees.
Yeah, pretty awkward…. I mean, Lucy and I are going to be getting married and all, so popping out my head for her isn’t that awkward – it’s not doing anything about it that’s awkward. But we’re not so shameless that we’d strip down right in front of Tom, and the rules won’t let us lie down anyway. So I figured, “Hey, maybe if I just wiggle a little, it’ll feel the same.”
Lucy started laughing out of her nose. I suppose it was pretty funny. I could only imagine what Tom’s face looked like, but this was when he turned on the TV, so….
And out it went! I could finally relax, though I must admit that the stain in my lap was quite bothersome, and it was dripping down my right leg too. I tried rubbing my legs together to soak it up with my sweats, but that only seemed to spread it.
“2 hours, 5 minutes, 6 seconds.”
No commentary that time. I suppose Tom was getting quite involved in his movie. I think he was playing Easy Virtue, unless I’m confusing the order (he watched quite a few movies over the time). All I remember for certain is that he started cracking up when the dog died. I always hated that part.
It was around then that my mom called down for Tom to keep it down and lower the volume – she was reading that book she hated and didn’t want to be disturbed by some obnoxious young man who came late to witness the son who doesn’t visit her enough make out with the fiancée who she doesn’t know well enough in the basement she doesn’t need but doesn’t want to become a hellhole with a TV that’s too big and sinful stains on the carpet. She reads us too well.
She never did much like our plans for a 32 hour, 7 minute, 14 second kiss, but we convinced her that if we didn’t do it in her basement, we’d do much worse in our apartment. She had no idea what we were talking about, but didn’t really want to know, and gave us the room. She even offered to make us matzo ball soup afterward, but we pointed out that we’d be exhausted and would want to go home by that point.
“3 hours, 23 minutes, 55 seconds. How you doing over there?”
We had been kissing for three and a half hours. To be honest, it was getting kind of old. But I wasn’t going to say anything about it – we had been planning this out for so long, I couldn’t break it off just because I was bored. Could I?
Seriously now, how could I tell Lucy that I had gotten bored of her kiss? The entire point of this whole thing was to prove that we loved each other more than anyone else who had ever lived! We were getting to set the Guinness Record of most committed lovers – the longest kiss!
It doesn’t matter if I’m getting bored. All that matters is the love which Lucy and I share for one another. Our marriage was scheduled the next week, you know.
Besides, maybe I’d pop another hard one – that always helps.
“5 hours, 48 minutes, 27 seconds. I’m gonna get myself a snack.”
I remember the first time Lucy and I kissed. It was the night we met – we had gone back to my place to pull a one-nighter. It was never said that we were to pull a one-nighter, but we both knew it. I offered to drive home, pointing out that she had had one more wine than I, and so she agreed.
She gave me directions to her place – the long way, of course. We listened to the Beatles the full way. As we got closer, however, she declared that she was hungry and asked for something to eat. I suggested ice-cream, and she applauded the idea. So she directed me to the local Ben & Jerry’s – the long way, again – and we got our favorite flavors: both chocolate!
Finally, we pulled up in front of her apartment. She thanked me for the ride and walked away. For a moment, I had blinked, wondering if she had actually just left without inviting me in, if she had actually just left my life forever. But the moment passed, as I saw her purse strategically situated underneath the chair.
Understanding, I picked it up and rang the bell. “You left your purse,” I said, and got the tactical invitation inside. We sat on the couch and talked for a while. “On the way up,” I recall saying, “I tried to ask for your room, but realized that I never actually caught your name; I had to refer to you as ‘the girl who just came in.’” She laughed and told me her name then, “Lucy.”
That clinched it – she had given me her name. All that then remained was the slow situation of arms around shoulders, one lowered to the waist, she leaned back as I leaned in, and our lips finally touched.
But it wasn’t what I expected. I was expecting the lust of a single night. I received the passion of a love to last a lifetime. That was when we knew that we were destined to marry.
And so we went to bed.
“7 hours, 34 minutes, 52 seconds. May I ask a question – how do you breath?”
Breathing was the least of our problems. We had carefully planned so that it wouldn’t happen, but I desperately needed to go to the bathroom. I took a ten-minute dump before getting in the car that morning, and yet there I was, bladder full and pushing with some lumps on their way out the other end!
Hold it in? I didn’t seem to have much choice. But we were only seven hours in and had to last 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds for the record! 34 hours, 11 minutes would win us over the unproven record as well. I’ve never been one for math, but 32 minus 7 is a good 23 hours! That’s almost a day! It was quite infuriating, but what else could I do – go in my pants?
Well, that’s what I did.
Okay, let me explain something. Stains in your lap are slightly uncomfortable. Lumps in your pants are very uncomfortable. Lucy was grimacing in under a minute – she has such a good sense of smell.
We had laughed when we first read the rule about “no diapers,” but after that little incident, I was quite wishful for diapers. I mean, who comes up with these rules? Diapers have nothing to do with kissing! I can understand why we can’t have people push us together, ‘cause that’s just cheating, but no diapers? Blasphemy!
I was beginning to get hungry too. But at least I wouldn’t get thirsty – we had our saliva to quench that one.
“9 hours, 58 minutes, 1 second. I knew I should’ve made you get me Febreze!”
That’s where the twist happened. About 10 hours in, we were still going strong. Our lips were together with a fiery passion, tongues going wild. But the rules didn’t demand tongue, and right there, 10 hours in, Lucy slowed down.
Why wasn’t she using tongue? Didn’t she love me? Did she not care enough to kiss me all out? Was she bored? Was she bored of me? Why didn’t she love me anymore? Our love is stronger than anyone else’s! Ever! Didn’t the Germans go strong for 32 hours, 7 minutes, and 14 seconds? Couldn’t we beat them?
(Well, actually, the site said nothing about their experience, and they may very well have just been touching lips the entire time….)
What was Lucy’s problem? Why wasn’t she kissing me hard? Why was she getting bored? Was it something I did? Was I doing something wrong? Was it the dump I took? Did I go too far with that? Should I have held it in? Oh, God! Why didn’t I hold it in? I could’ve managed to last the day! Anything would’ve been better than losing Lucy’s love!
“13 hours, 20 minutes, 18 seconds. Loving this coffee-maker, guys!”
Lucy was still hardly using her tongue. And now the hunger was unbearable! I needed to eat something! Under this kind of pressure, most guys will resort to cannibalism!
I need to eat. I’m a guy. I have a fast metabolism. I’ve never been able to survive Yom Kippur – something my mom always complains about me (even though she complains that she’s too old to fast and excuses herself from it). When I get hungry, I get angry. And when I get angry, I get hungry. It’s kind of this weird thing about the workings of the male body. We have to eat constantly.
The standing was also starting to bug me. I thought the rugs were supposed to make things easier! And yet, my legs were aching like mad!
“17 hours, 42 minutes, 19 seconds. You’re more than halfway there!”
My mom would occasionally stick her head in to yell at us to keep it down, but she seemed to stop after my second “accident.” It would be a note for when we were done, but otherwise, I couldn’t care less. Tom just sprayed more Febreze.
She must’ve been pissed about the whole thing – I mean, she really did not seem happy at all when we told her. But whatever, I couldn’t care less.
“20 hours, 52 minutes, 23 seconds. You guys should do this for a living.”
Lucy had withdrawn her tongue entirely by that point. It was just me, still going in full. She looked bored and exhausted. I’m not going to lie – I was bored and exhausted too. But at least I still loved her! Why didn’t she love me anymore? What had gotten into her?
I was really, really hungry now. That was bothering me. But Lucy should’ve been better with that! She doesn’t eat as much; she doesn’t have as fast a metabolism! She should know that whatever she’s going through, I’m going through worse!
Was she mad about the smell? Maybe, but I mean, that’s just unfair – she did the same thing a few hours later! I hope she was just as uncomfortable as me! Serves her right!
“24 hours! One day gone! Oh, and by the way, I deleted the save file on your game to make room for mine.”
That ****!
“25 hours, 13 minutes, 32 seconds. Is it just me, or is this getting rather boring?”
My legs and back were killing me! I’d been standing up for over a day! And without any food or water!
Now, I know I said that we were fine without water because we had our saliva, but by this point, both our mouths were long dried out. Even our tongues were like shriveled pieces of cabbage. I felt more like I was stuffing a thick piece of hair hanging from my mouth into a very small pile of dirt than making out.
Lucy was obviously ready to give up. But how could she? We had planning this for a month! We were going to prove that our love was unsurpassable! We’d kiss for 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds or die trying! In fact, forget that – we’d make it all the way to 34 hours, 11 minutes easily! Nothing would stand in our way! We would get that record and next week we’d be married!
“28 hours, 38 minutes, 44 seconds. I think your mother left.”
Well of course my mom left! She’s off to the town with some friends she apparently has! Weren’t you paying attention to her rants yesterday, Tom? Oh wait, of course you didn’t – ‘cause you were late!
And what the hell was up with Lucy? She was really starting to piss me off! Not only did she refuse to make out with me, but now she was poking me! Poking! Like she’s so bored that all she could do to amuse herself was poke the guy she was going to be marrying in a week? Seriously, what the hell!
I grabbed her wrist in my fist and squeezed. She grabbed my nose and started wiggling it. I could see the corners of her mouth smiling. This was really getting on my nerves.
So I pulled her hair. But I did so strategically – a simple tug in one direction would probably yank her head away from mine, and then all this would be worth nothing more than a good laugh for Tom. So instead, I grabbed a strand of hair with each hand and pulled in opposite directions so that the forces would cancel each other out.
She bit my tongue.
“32 hours, 2 minutes, 38 seconds. Hey, can you guys fight again? I like it better when you fight.”
I wasn’t using tongue anymore. We weren’t hugging either. We merely stood there in silence with our lips protruding into each other. To pass the time, we stared at each other in a furious calm. It was like some sort of ultimate showdown.
I wanted to gut her, and she probably thought the same of me. There had been so much love in our two years together. Perhaps it had moved too quickly. It doesn’t matter. It was all gone now anyway. There was no love. Only undying hate.
We’d go to the end, though. We had come this far, and we weren’t about to turn back. 32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. That’s all it would take to prove that we loved each other more than anyone else who had ever lived.
Except we didn’t.
We had a goal. 34 hours, 11 minutes. I’ve never been one for math, but that would mean another 2 hours with her! I wouldn’t be able to last that long – I was too tired, too hungry, too thirsty, and I really needed to change my clothes.
“32 hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds. Congratulations – you beat the record! Care to go for –”
Lucy pulled away first, just so you know. She turned around and stormed up the stairs without saying a word or ever looking back.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”
Tom had a huge grin over his face, and looked to be on the verge of tears. I really hate that guy - to be honest, I never really liked him. He’s annoying as hell, and likes to butt into other people’s business. Of course, that’s why we chose him for the role; anyone else would just feel awkward staring at us make out for nearly a day and a half.
I could hear my mother upstairs going on to Lucy about how we’re finally done, and how rude and unholy the whole thing’s been, and how she prays that we didn’t mess up the basement, and how Lucy should stop walking away while she’s talking. Next, I heard the car revving up.
“Uh, you know…. You didn’t drive me…. So I’m not gonna drive you….”
Oh, ****!
