Oh god yes. We've all had it and some more than others. Whoever said that sex is like pizza: it's still pretty good even when it's bad was obviously a boy. Cuz, darlin', when it's bad, I'd rather curl up with my vibrator and call it a night. Actually, when it's bad, I'd rather stick hot needles dipped in pepper spray into my eyes, but I'm just sort of extreme like that.
You know how it happens...either you're drunk, or he's drunk...you're both waaaay too sober...you've known each other for ages or you met five minutes ago...whatever...it can happen to anyone at any time. It's like the proverbial box of chocolates. It can look good, smell good, taste good...and still be godawful sex.
Allow me to set the scene.
You have just jumped into the sack when some schmuck thinking that you're gonna get some quality booty or at least kill some time before Gossip Girl. You go for the lay-up, you shoot...he scores. You lay back. He's got some punch drunk look on his dumbshit face, his eyes all glazed over like a kid after Christmas morning. Maybe he's even gone so far as to prop his head up on his hands...he's smiling at you dopily as all the blood rushes back to from wildly unimpressive places...god forbid he wants to cuddle because all you can think about is punching him in the head...Was it good for you?...Oh, I'm sorry, did something happen? I wasn't aware...all you can think about is ushering him out of your bed...quickly...before somebody should see and bear witness to this utter embarrassment...maybe you'll have time to take care of your business before the opening credits...you feel sorry for all the other girls that may have come before you (or not)...and you get on with your life--the memory seared into your mind and a tale ready to be told to your girlfriends over brunch...hoping that maybe a direct head injury might take care of your short-term memory...
Oh, well, you think, at least I may have burned off the calories from that Gummy Bear that I ate four hours ago. Or maybe not.
1 comment:
Oh hun, let me set the scene.
It seemed like such a good idea at the time.. He's cute, witty, fairly intelligent and everything seems to be in the right place. Then he starts to..umm.. what is it called when your mouth is suddently assaulted, taken over, invaded and your previously happy tonsils are removed without your consent? And THEN he wants to bump uglies? Are you kidding me? I'm still in post-op recovery.. Did I mention that this type usually sweats too? Profusely? There are some viscous fluids I would really rather not swap thank you very much.
Maybe that should be one of your rants, bad kissing and even worse icky, i do not want to take a shower in your excretions sweating.
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