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Many websites devoted to relationships and/or sex have started publishing anonymous sex diaries that just happen to be from people who are having mind-blowing sex on a nightly basis. Of course, we all know these diaries are full of crap... or are they?
From The Frisky:
Hurry, hurry inside, close the door, don’t worry about your shoes, don’t worry about the lights, drop your bag in the entrance way, fumble down the hall past his roommate playing Xbox on the couch, hand in hand, giggling all the way. Slam the bedroom door behind you!
He closes the door to his bedroom… and throws me onto the bed. Yesss, I think. It’s time to relieve that tension. The tension of an unspeakable number of days apart dreaming of this exact moment we’re about to play out.
The sex wasn’t just good; it was mind-blowing. He seemed so huge, he seemed so strong changing positions and angles, he seemed to last forever. I’m screaming his name and gasping for breath and we’re finally both having enormous orgasms before collapsing in a sweaty and satisfied pile of limbs and blankets.
Of course, sex tends to be mind-blowing when you haven't had it for months. Then the reality sets in: the diarist gets a UTI and cannot bone for a few days.
“It’s the medicine, the doctor said it’d turn my pee colors. But I didn’t pee on you, I swear. I know I didn’t pee!”
Should I have provided some background there? Naw, it's better out of context, actually.
Oh man, oh my God, it’s so good, it’s too good, I feel like I’m going to explode………………!
And it turns out I do explode. A sea of orange gushes out of me. It turns out I’m a squirter. I just didn’t get to know that little fact about myself until all my fluids had turned some strange shade of fruit juice first. I’m mortified.
All right, we'll admit it... it's probably all true and we're just jealous.