A Hot Guy From Improv Class F*cked Me To Become "Funnier"

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Sex, Self

Funny by fornication? Apparently, it's a thing.

When I met Keith I didn’t think we’d be friends, let alone have a one night stand. He had amazing body and was extremely hot. Besides that, though, he wasn't bright enough to get me.

We met in an improv acting class.

The group that I was taking the improv from had a very specific style. Their shows were like competitions. It was mostly timed games, not long form. Players played in teams and in the end there was a winner. They had coaches, refs and players — just like other sporting events. When we'd do our practice matches in class, we’d have a coach. Since Keith was always our coach or captain for our class teams, everyone called him Coach.

I had done a lot of sketch/improv with various other schools and theaters around town, but I enjoyed being the best in the class.

In my class, I was the star. Though Keith had taken a number of classes at this theater, he was a long way from being good at improv and an even longer way from ever being naturally funny. Since he was extremely good looking, it didn't matter that he wasn’t especially hilarious, but it still bothered him.

Whenever anyone talks about getting better at a craft or a sport they talk about doing that activity with someone better than themselves. You play tennis with a better tennis player, and hopefully you’ll get better. Keith’s view was a little more off-kilter than that. 

He thought that if you slept with someone funnier than yourself, then you would get funnier. Did I mention he wasn’t that bright, but he was really hot? I think this is called "funny by fornication".

Keith's theory ran counter-intuitive to that old belief men used to use to explain why women can't be funny. "If women were funny, no one would want to f*ck them." Yeah, that makes no sense whatsoever. Thank goodness for pretty, funny women and for pretty funny women.

One night, Keith offered to drive me home. My roommate went home every weekend, so I had my apartment to myself. I didn’t think anything of it when Keith insisted on stopping at the store to buy wine and potato chips. I figured he had plans for later that night, and, in fact, he did: seducing me.

We got to my house and instead of pulling up to the curb and letting me out, Keith parked and asked if he could come in for a while.  

"Sure," I said, hoping that he wouldn't want to stay long since I felt tired.

Keith came in and immediately made himself right at home with that ease that seriously good-looking men have. He poured both of us a glass of wine. I had never developed a taste for wine and at this point I hadn't developed a taste for guys with rock hard abs either.

I said no to the wine and relaxed, knowing I wouldn't be in the position to decline the dude. Continuing his hosting in my home, he offered me some chips, which I also refused. I was starting to feel uneasy, as I noticed it felt like a seduction. Everybody knows that offering someone junk food is code for "I want to have sex with you".

Keith and I were sitting on the couch, talking about our class and the art of improvisation. I was making him laugh, as I usually did in class. He was getting his drink on and chowing down on the chips, making no move to leave. I thought he was going to be late for whatever, or whomever, he was doing later.

It was almost midnight and I did a few theatrical yet still kind of funny yawns to politely communicate that our evening really was over and it was time for Keith to go home.

Embarrassed, Keith admitted that he may have had a bit too much to drink and asked if it would be alright if he spent the night at my house. "Uh sure," I said, not wanting to seem mean. I was secure in the knowledge that nothing would happen — until he grabbed me, pulled me close and stuck his tongue in my mouth. I didn’t see that coming, but then again, I didn’t see any of it coming.

I was completely floored when he pulled me down to the floor and continued to passionately kiss me. Thinking that it would just end there and Keith would sleep on the floor, I started to get up.

This was when he said that he'd been thinking of me for weeks. "What? That makes no sense at all," I thought. I wasn't his type. What was going on?

He dragged me into my bedroom and I finally understood that Keith wanted to have sex with me.

He took off his shirt and I started to see the advantages of sex with someone with an amazing body. His finely muscled body was perfect, and, I had to admit, a lot of fun to play with. "OK, might as well go with the flow," I thought.

We spend an enjoyable night together. The next morning, still in my nightgown, I kissed him good-bye as my friend Gabe drove up. Happily, I now had a witness or no-one would have believed that the Coach and I had our own Comedy Bang Bang.

Little did I know that not only did Keith give me a night to remember, he left me with a parting gift.

Within two hours, I was so sick that I had to spend that night in my bathroom, ironically also on the floor. I had one of the worst flues that I ever had and was sick for nearly two weeks. Thanks, Coach!

Next time I saw Keith in my class, he was friendly, but not much funnier. So much for hooking up for a better sense of humor. 

We never had sex again and ended up losing touch. Unlike great abs, being hilarious isn't something you can work at — it's something you either have or don't have. You can't have sex with someone in hopes that their talent will somehow rub off on you.

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