: July 2002: I Hate Sex
always knew I'd hate sex, so I put off having it for
as long as I could. But let me tell you, it's not
easy for a hot young chick to avoid it--from the time
I sprouted pubic hair, everyone wanted a piece of
my ass! Somehow I made it through high school and
college without caving in to the sweaty hordes of
lecherous professors and horny frat boys...but then
I moved to Las Vegas, and the jig was up. I knew if
I was gonna make it, I'd have to put out! I tried
to hold out with just blow jobs, but my first mouthful
of dick, with a stinking asshole just inches below
my nose, convinced me to bust my precious hymen and
get cracking! But being the self-important bitch that
I am, the circumstances for the grand opening of my
box had to be appropriately glamorous...so I set out
to make it happen in style!
this time I was twenty-four, and the pressure was
really on. In my haste, I freaked out and almost blew
it one night! I was making out with this hot young
buck in his hotel room, and all systems were go. I
was seconds away from unbolting my lockbox, when suddenly
I noticed the pirate statue on the nightstand. Give
me a break!! I had come that close to losing my virginity
at the freakin' Treasure Island!!! I may be white
trash, but even I have more class than that. I packed
up, left his blue balls hanging in Disneyland, and
went off to seek my fortune elsewhere.
wasn't long before another stiff came my way--a few
weeks later I had a date with a different guy, who
was staying at the 5-star Bellagio. Ka-ching!
Now that's the kind of joint where a guy can
tear into some virgin pussy in style. After a few
drinks in the lounge, I sized up my date and decided
he would do: fat, Jewish, old, and rich. Just my type!
We went up to his penthouse suite for some wine, and
I downed about a half a bottle in preparation for
the horrors ahead.
lights on the Las Vegas Strip sparkled below as I
stripped down to my hot virginal white cotton panties,
cowering before him on the luxurious king-sized bed.
The light of lust was in his eyes and the slaver of
passion on his lips as he dove in for the kill, heaving
and sweating over me, poking me with his chubby dick
until he broke on through and blood was spilled. Hallelujah!
The only thing missing was Miss America with a giant
pair of ceremonial scissors--"I now declare this box
however, when I checked the bed in the morning there
was no blood on the sheets at all. I thought that
maybe because I had waited so long, my maidenhead
had become dried-up and jerky-fied. But thank God,
once I got dressed and started moving around, the
juices started flowing. Blood was everywhere! It soaked
my panties and it was a good thing, too, 'cause I
had controversial art plans for 'em!
my initiation I was all over town, ready to make friends,
influence people, and get rich--and enjoy myself at
the same time. But after I had banged my way around
Vegas for a month or two, I figured out that I'd been
right from the very beginning--sex is a stinking,
messy ordeal that must only be endured on special
occasions or for special amounts of money. I'll use
sex as a tool...if I have to! But it's going to be
the kind of tool that's wrapped in burlap and kept
on the top shelf in the garage...and is hardly ever
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