La petit mort, except grande.

When I was younger and I was in an open relationship with a dude, we had some threesomes (not a humble brag; I’m happy I don’t have an STI). There was one person in particular who was super down with the nature of our relationship, and we’d hook up often. NSFW WARNING. Once, when I was INSIDE HER, her sister broke into her room and started to punch my back. My partner was spitting venom the entire time, while I was just trying to get dressed. I was a LOT bigger than her, so I thought there was no point in fighting even though she was trying to hurt me. It felt like the opposite of fighting in a dream. They were punching me, and it felt like nothing. I’m really happy I didn’t fight back. Apparently her best friend died and we’d been loudly fucking next to her bedroom. I had no idea until the next day. Fun times.

Damn, dude is so fake and gay that he’s hallucinating sex

“My roomie DIED so I could get laid. What a bro!”