You: Oh, I’m so drunk!

No, it is possible that the beautiful young man will like everything very much. But a morning catharsis awaits you: “Who am I? Where I am? What happened yesterday?! “And it doesn’t matter whether you remember or not what and how it happened yesterday, the main thing is to try to forget about it as soon as possible.


He: It’s okay, relax!

Here are the thanks! Not only were you really squeezed, now you will think that he understood this. And turn into an armadillo. In a twisted armadillo.

You: Are you soon?

Saw! Drink, Shura! Saw! (c)

Him: Are you okay?

You immediately feel like the heroine of some beautiful American drama. That is, a hero. Private Smith, for example. He had already blown up on a mine, but he had not yet asked for the last cigarette and whispered: “I’m fine!”

You: Not to me!

Combo hit! Firstly, he will definitely never have sex with you again. Secondly, it’s not at all a fact that he will ever have sex after this. Although, maybe he will get off easy – he will begin to stutter or giggle nervously at the sight of women.


Him: Are you tired?

And immediately you feel like a cartoon character, not for adults, but for children of primary preschool age. “Ride me, big turtle!” (With)

You: Is that all?

Yes honey. It’s all.

Him: Will you kiss him?

Blowjob is voluntary. And this is the very situation when it is easier for a bore to give up than to explain why not. But only once.

You: Guys usually love it when I do that!

At this moment, his inflamed imagination sees in the bedroom the slyly grinning ghosts of all your ex-boyfriends. And their name is legion.

Him: Are you done?

Hatred. Kill.

You: Hush, mom will hear!

Well, thanks for not being a husband.

He: Mmmm, what a soft tummy you have!

At that moment, you will understand how Sisyphus felt. Diet, grueling workouts, drying and missed parties with friends for the sake of a cardio session – so what? Soft tummy?! And okay, Sisyphus with his stone – at least the stone itself fell there. And then someone pushed him. This is not forgiven.


You: Come on, but only quickly!

And then get out of here, boy, don’t interfere.

He: Oh, yes, my girl, come on, more, more!

Either he reviewed porn films and confuses them with real life, or a hereditary goat trainer died in him. Both that, and another somehow does not excite. At all.

You: Did you feel good?

He was bad, bad. He sits and weeps bitterly, don’t you see, or what?