When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted

The weekends are all about going hunting. Being assertive and searching for someone to get with for the night. Sometimes however, we can be so caught up in the chase, the thrill of the hunt, that we let our guard down and don't realize that we ourselves are being hunted.

It was the night after the big championship game and I had performed fairly well. It is customary for everyone to go as hard as possible that weekend. Drinking till we can't stand and partying till the sun rises. Naturally, with this being my first year, it was my duty to live up to these expectations. 

While the night was young, I had managed to consume 6 beers, 15 jell-o shots, and still managed to participate in a whole manner of crazy drinking games.

Finally, the midnight hour was upon us, the call of the hunt. And I had earned my right to hunt with the best hunters on campus. We showed up to the frats and heard the crazy raging music and chatter like only colleges can pull off. We couldn't wait to join in on the festivities. 

Now I must admit that I don't remember all that much of what transpired that night, but from what other people could tell me and from what little I remember, this is what happened:

I was in the frat for a long time, dancing with prospects, looking to finish the hunt and get to take one of them home. But little did I know, that there was another hunter lurking in the shadows, a different kind of hunter, the not so attractive girl who no one wants to dance with so she sits there, waiting. Biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment when we're most vulnerable. So after my 6th or 7th dance with different girls, she found her moment to strike. I had just finished dancing with the last girl, and she came up from behind and grabbed me, she turned me around and latched onto me dancing and pushing me up against the wall so I had no where to run. We must have danced for a song or two. We might have even had the unfortunate experience of making out. But I distinctly remember her asking me where I lived. When I told her, she took me by the hand and dragged me out and towards my dorm. I followed her like a puppy on a leash, not at all aware of the danger that I was in, and the trap that I was walking myself into. 

We get to my place, I remember it being unfortunately empty. We sit on my bed and the last thing I remember is having my shirt off. Fortunately I blacked out from the horrors of having sex with someone that I was completely and utterly not attracted to.  Her tall lanky build with a most unfortunate face to match. 

I woke up and she was gone. I guess that could be seen as fortunate. However, I have several text messages in my phone explaining what happened. Apparently after I had sex with her and took her virginity, I walked her out and passed out in my own bed. With sheets that had more than a little bit of the classical deflowering stain. After I took a long intense shower where I fought to lose the pounding headache of a hangover so that I could start to piece together the rest of the night. I threw the sheets out and swapped my mattress with my roommates. He never knew about it.

Sometimes, the Hunter can be Hunted.

I hope you enjoyed this rather awful and disturbing tale. But as I swore from the start, I would be honest and tell you of all the women I have ever been with. Even the unfortunate ones that left scars.

If you enjoyed this unfortunate read, feel free to +1 and Follow me for I will be continuing to tell you all of my panty raiding adventures. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns please post them in the comment section below.

Have you ever regretted having sex with someone? What were they like?

~ The Panty Raider