>>> The Lady's Shave
By staff writer NG Hatfield

June 4, 2006


You know, every so often I look back on my sexual career and regret a few things.

For instance, I regret banging the fuck out of a girl we’ll call CARRIE LYNN PARSONS on the FIRST DATE, then calling the slut back the next day.

I regret “accidentally missing” one girl’s pussy so that I could put it in her ass for bragging rights. I also regret laughing so hard when she fell over chucking her clothes on that I couldn’t stop her from keying my car. Come to think of it, I regret not having comp insurance so I could get that fixed…

Anyway, with that all admitted, I’ll tell you…in the last year I’ve been a God of Sex (I should tell also the ugly bitches that I’m very selective, so stop emailing me). What I’m saying is that, I don’t regret a goddamned thing. I take absolutely no responsibility for the bad sex. I mean, if I, Nick Motherfucking Gaudio, can’t release the freak in the geek, who can?

“Is that a pink freezer? No, it's your vagina. If I wanted to fuck a two-by-four, I’d cut a nice big hole in it and nail it…to a two-by-six.”

Nevertheless, I’m an optimist. I believe that if I were to write an article instructing bitches on how to be better in bed, they’d listen. And if that were to happen, there would be a lot more happy fellows out there, myself included.

So this week I present…

Let’s Improve Our Sex Life, Bitches

BEFORE

You’re not fat, flat-chested or ugly, for Christ’s sake.

You can look at it this way: I approached you, I rented a movie for you, I invited you to watch it in my bed, and I turned up the air conditioning so that you’d have to get under my covers. You can take off your fucking t-shirt while I’m feeling you up, goddamnit.

If you were one-too-many-pounds too fat or one-too-many-freckles too ugly, I wouldn’t want to see you naked, let alone stick it in you. Oh, and trust me…I love girls with small tits.

Note: It makes me think that I’m making up for my wasted youth as a virgin.

Clean that shit.

If anything below your waist isn’t Zest-fully clean, or Irish Spring fragrant, you best get to scrubbin’. I don’t and won’t want to fuck a bitch that smells like a stand at the county fair. I’ll only want funnel cake and an oversized teddy bear.

Dress the part.

Life’s a stage, and every bitch wants a spot in my play. So, if you really wanna separate yourself from the bed-lazy bitches, dress the fuck up. I know a lot of your corny-ass, carb-free-bread-eating, emo boyfriends have said that you look hot in “anything,” but that’s just not true. I expect a sundress, hot lingerie, and an appropriate amount of makeup.

Or you could always do the outfit thing. Think slutty librarian. And for Christ’s sake, make sure to speak to me about which book I want you to carry, before you come toting Harry Potter into my house.

Talk dirty to me, baby.

While I think this should be pretty self-explanatory, it’s not. Lots of women are awful at dirty talk. Including you. So, instead of embarrassing yourself saying, “I would be very honored if you and I…wait is it ‘you and me’ or ‘you and I?’ Anyways, I’d be very honored if we were to have sex right at this very instance. Yes, that’s grammatically correct…I think…. It’s a reflexive verb, right? Or is it transitive? I don’t remember…I had this one teacher from (blah) (blah) (blah)” you should watch a porn. Then, take notes on what those sluts are saying. Just make sure it’s an American porn and not a German porn. I don’t know German and it’s seriously the least sexually-enticing language on the planet. When I’m fucking you, I’d rather hear “click-click” than German. At least you’d sound like a seizure patient instead of a fucking barnyard animal.

Note: I’ve dated a German girl who could possibly read this. I’d like to insult her a little.

Let me go down on you, bitch.

Yes, believe it or not, it’ll work out better in the end. I’ve read somewhere that only a small percentage of women who participate in foreplay for more than 20 minutes fail to reach orgasm. Also, I’ve read somewhere that women who participate in foreplay for more than 20 minutes get to spend more than 15 with Nick Gaudio. I hear that’s great on a resume.

I’ll admit, I realize that there are lots of guys out there who try to eat your bowl and it ends up feeling like dental work, but trust me, I know what I’m doing.

And while I realize that my cock is your objective (and probably has been since we’ve been acquainted), you just need to chill the fuck out and let things happen. Nothing is less sexy than hearing the word “stop” when I’m trying to fuck a girl. And yes, that’s a rape joke, too.

DURING

Loosen the fuck up.

Is that a pink freezer? No, it’s your vagina.

If I wanted to fuck a two-by-four, I’d cut a nice big hole in it and nail it…to a two-by-six. Then I’d screw it. To another two-by-four. Then I’d build a deck and invite you over to fuck on it. But instead of regular wood, I’d use really cheap shit so you’d get splinters on your back. So yeah…I guess you can just lie there if you’d like. But don’t expect me to get out the rubbing alcohol when we’re done.

Ignore my distractions, bitch.

I should let you know that Sports-Watchin’ Time/Sandwich-Eatin’ Time encompasses 100% of my day, so if I wanna turn on ESPN U and watch the Louisville-WVU repeat while snackin’ on a Whopper, don’t get so goddamned territorial. You can fuck me while I watch/eat it.

Don’t bitch about the mayonnaise on your inner thigh.

Think of it as lube.

Don’t tell me how you like it.

You’ll like what I do regardless; because when you come to grips with the fact that I’m in control in the bedroom, you’ll have a better time. So, I’ll tell you right now…if I want to whisper in your ear by the fireplace, I will.

If I want to throw you up against a wall, rip off your clothes, pull your hair, and call you a dirty whore, you’re going to let me.

And if I want you to sit on top of me and bounce (ergo, giving you some semblance at what it feels to be me), I’ll let you know by placing you there when I feel it’s appropriate.

Be. Really. Fucking. Loud.

Like most other guys, I’m a bit of a sadist. I like seeing your teeth clench and feeling your hands scratch my back when I’m throwing it to you. But more than anything like that, I love hearing you orgasm because it sounds like you’re almost dying.

So even if I’m fucking you into a pillow, scream my name so loud (with the proper “Oh!” and “God!” interjections) that my neighbors know that I’m fucking you. See, I want them to come up to me when I’m getting my mail the next day and say, “Christ…did you break her in half?” or something like that.

Remember, you’re a girl and can’t understand how unbelievably happy this makes me.

AFTER

Sleep in your mess, goddamnit.

If I gave you enough gratification that a spot on my bed is soaked with pussy filth, you’re sleeping there. After all, there are pros and cons to having sex, and by letting you sleep in my bed, I have to wake up and see you in the morning. That’s my con and I think that’s a fucking fabulous deal.


Don’t hide your limp, darlin’.

Two reasons:

One, I love it because it’s like branding you as a girl I’ve fucked.

And two, it’s pretty fucking hilarious.

Accept it: You’re my Fuck Buddy.

You and I…we’re not dating. And even if I did take you out a few times and you still fucked me, we aren’t dating anymore. You’re a ho, and I’m a guy with standards. I mean, what would people think?

Though, I’m not completely through with you. You have a fighting chance. But only if you can somehow fuck me into a coma or something. Then, when I recover, we can do it again. And again…and again…and again.

Hell, I’d probably marry you.

Tell your friends!

Why would you keep a night full of five-star fucking to yourself? I mean c’mon…that’s like going to an amusement park alone. Just think…if your friends came over and fucked me, you’d all have something to talk about…you know, other than lip gloss and Chai tea.

Note: For every ten referrals, I’ll throw in a free night at my place. Though, naturally, you’ll have to cook.

Stop. Calling. Me.

If you really wanna turn me on, don’t fucking rape my phone.

I’m serious. I’ll call you back when I’m bored or something. I promise….

Yeah, it was nice seeing you too. Now get out.

Oh, and make sure to leave your panties beside the others.

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