Okay, look: I know there's been a lot of buildup. All those sloppy drunken looks, rubbing thighs on beer-soaked couches, me all dopey-smiley watching you roll around on the floor and scream for your band. One time you showed up unexpectedly at a party, and I Febrezed myself in the bathroom so you would think I smell pretty. We go together like bacon and eggs. Like hookers and blow.
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And then, finally, I mustered up the ovaries to openly proposition you. We rolled around in bed for a while. I fumbled for the goods, and scha-BLAM! Your next generation, all over my hand. It was cool, though. We were excited.
But this last time, we were relatively sober. I was in peak condition! I pulled my clothes off all slow-like, then crawled up the bed, making dick-happy noises, getting girl-juice on your leg. I had just enough Schlitz in my system to administer a truly impassioned blowjob without picking the lint from your belly button (it was distracting, but the sheer force of libido compelled me to let this slide). You got all thigh-quivery. I made my move.
Slowly, I pried my mouth away from your kickstand and straddled you. Sweet Mother of God, did you ever feel good! I began to slowly grind, kissing your neck, my hand in your hair...
When, all of a sudden, you picked me up by my hips and threw me. THREW me! I came crashing down on the bed to your left, a truly impressive mid-coital bodyslam. Cunthurt and bewildered, I am immediately turned to inquire, "What the fuck?"
You responded by spraying your boy-goo all over my tummy!
Okay, listen: I know I'm good at what I do. But three minutes is not acceptable. I've seen virginities come and go in faster time. And just going to sleep was pretty uncool, too. I'm a woman, and sex is a buyer's market for me. I shouldn't have to jerk off in my bathroom, fantasizing about the goddamn video store clerk while you sleep in my bed.
You gotta step up your game, baby. Or I'll find another guy with dumb tattoos to annihilate my cervix for you.