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Spoiled – TBT 02.22.12

Sometimes me and my friends play this game. We ask random questions like, “Murder, fuck, or marry?” “Would you rather?” “Have you ever?” or “What’s the worst sex you’ve ever had?” I always feel bad answering the last one, because … well … I’ve never actually had bad sex. I feel like by admitting it, I just wished myself an eternity of bad sex, but it’s the truth. I’ve had “not so great” sex, and then sex that never really happened, but “bad” sex? Never. And as of lately, I’ve been pretty fucking spoiled.

With respect to my past lovers, I don’t think I REALLY had sex until maybe 28, when I met Thor. Yes, I call him Thor. And maybe I have a secret picture in a secret folder somewhere explaining why I call him Thor. Nevertheless, he gave me the BEST SEX OF MY LIFE. It was to the point where I had to tell him to just hurry up and come already (the thought haunts me to this very day). It was to the point where I actually let him touch my feet because he was mid-orgasm and I was so exhausted I didn’t want to interrupt him. I’m talking we broke the Magnum on two separate occasions. Who the fuck does that? Apparently, we do.

I was so sure that he ruined my sex life forever. That it could never be as good, and then a year or so later it actually was.

I remember the first time me and “Buzz” had sex. No I wasn’t buzzed, I was actually drunk. But in the corner of my eye I still noticed in his hand a glint of a gold wrapper, and I swear I felt like Charlie in Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Oompa-Loompa’s started singing and the snozzberries tasted like snozzberries, because motherfucker “He had the golden ticket!” His dick wasn’t as lengthy as Thor’s, but it was girthy and more than sufficed. Sex with him was very different than sex with Thor, but it was still good. And the worst part? It kept getting better and better.


I can actually see my girlfriends rolling their eyes at me right now. I think I just heard one of them say, “Wah, wah, wah. My name is Abigail and I have great sex!” The thing is you don’t know you’ve had bad sex, until you’ve had good sex. For me, what was once good became just good enough after I had GREAT. Like Jay-Z said, “It’s kinda hard to go back to Hamburger Helper when you’ve had filet mignon”. I actually don’t mind Hamburger Helper. But once you’ve had Don Julio, you can’t drink that crappy Jose Cuervo shit no more. It may get the job done, but you don’t enjoy it as much and know it could be better.

So FUCK YOU. Fuck you; you kinky, big dick bastards that want me to sit on your face, take forever to come, go through three condoms, and make me have multiple orgasms, or at the very least extended ones. Fuck you for fucking me, and fucking it up for all the men soon to cum.

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