Darwin fucked up

"And the Oscar goes to...."

(Silence and fake smiles)

"Bella!"

(Applause and even faker smiles.)

This was part of the dream I had last night. Before I went to bed I smoked a cigarette, before that I took a shot of whiskey, before that I took a vallium, and before that I kicked out the man who had just given me inspiration for my oscar worthy performance.

I just faked the best orgasm ever. I could teach a class.

After being jabbed and prodded and slobbed all over I simply couldn't take it any more. I stared at my cieling while this sad excuse of a man fucked me like a blow-up doll. I am a human, I have a pulse, and you're officially hurting my va-jay-jay.

After what seemed like an eternity it was as though an imaginary director screamed "Action!" I arched my back, began to pant, threw my legs around his hips and lightly dug my nails into his back. I moaned and groaned and clenched and looked him dead in the eye pretending he was Keanu Reeves. He finally came, and my imaginary director FINALLY yelled "Cut!"

Someone please explain to me why this beautiful man, with a beautiful dick, who is a talented musician was one of my top 3 worst lays ever? False advertising from head to toe.

This made me quesiton Darwinism. In Manhattan, survival of the fittest has morphed into survival of the most attractive. A good set of genes allows you to strut, cut lines, smile and get your way. He had it all going, what a fucking dissapointment. I now have to do double my kegel exercises to repair the damage he inflicted on my delicate lady-bits.

Guys please, I am begging you, if you are attractive learn how to please a woman. I am not a hole in a mattress nor am I a porn star. It takes effort to give a blow job, and even more effort to endure horrible sex.

Learn to fuck or fuck off. The choice is yours.

-Bella