I Faked An Orgasm And I Liked It!

I swear to you, children, just the other night I did what millions of women have done since the beginning of time and fake-forwarded to the end of the sex act! I always thought it was reprehensible that ladies pulled that kind of crap, but now I finally see the point. Sometimes you have no other choice than to summon your high-school-level acting skills, shriek like a wet hen, and jump ahead to "Goodnight. Call me again."

Let me explain. I've been occasionally dating this guy from the bars (and I know he won't read this--he barely speaks English--so I'm totally safe, especially if you all keep the whole thing in confidence). He's adorable and a total firecracker--game for just about anything. The only problem is that while I'm shtupping the guy, he'll arbitrarily change positions without warning, wanting to vary things up without much rhyme or reason. As a result, I have to hold the condom on with a viselike grip and contort along with him as if playing some blindman's game of Twister.

It's utterly unnerving and momentum-destroying and I don't really have the energy for this type of dick decathlon. So the other night, by time we were on our fourth position and my body was contorted like a flesh pretzel, I impulsively faked an orgasm! I pretended to come, begged for forgiveness, and then graciously glided my man out the door like a john whose time (and luck) had run out. And I didn't even feel that guilty about it (though, being raised Catholic, I naturally felt guilty about having sex at all).

So listen up, you feisty bottoms: Stay still so tops can stay honest!

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