To every one of my ex-lovers

Don't flatter yourself.

Most of the things I said while between the sheets with you were lies. I'm not generally a liar; in fact, I insist upon truth at most times. I know it does not absolve me of my deception, but understand that I said these things to placate your insecurities, because I knew that your performance depended on my stroking your ego more than it did my stroking your dick. Confession is good for the soul, however, so allow me to clue you in on how spot-on-- if oftentimes cruel-- my thoughts have been with regard to you and your obvious-to-everyone-but-you lack of sexual prowess:

• When I said it was an OK size, I swear, what I really meant was "I've had bigger. In fact, they were all bigger. Are you going to fuck me or write me a note, Mr. Golf Pencil?"
• When I said it was deeper than anyone's ever been, what I really meant was "Please stop it. You'r bruising my cervix."
• When I said you last really long in missionary position, what I really meant was"I'm through counting ceiling tiles. Can we wrap this up already? I need to do the dishes. Thanks. "
• When I said it tasted amazing, what I really meant was "I'm amazed I'm able to supress my gag reflex and not hurl in your lap, Mr. Asparagus-and-Gasoline Smoothie."
• When I smiled wryly in between licks of your cock as you moaned loudly, I was really grinning because I wanted so badly to laugh out loud at the ridiculously loud, animalistic sounds you were making.
• When I said it happens to every guy, what I really meant was "I'm not at all surprised it happened to you. For the 5th time. In as many hours."
• When-- at your request-- I said "Yeah, spank my ass red, Daddy", what I was really thinking was how long after the sex was over did I need to wait before I dump your freakish, incest-fantasy ass.
• When I pulled your head out of my lap and silently mouthed the words "fuck me", what I really meant to say was "Enough, already! You don't take direction very well, an it's painfully obvious you'd need a map, a GPS device and a huge neon sign at the destination to find my clit. Let's just skip to the next step, okay? Here's hoping you can at least find that."
  
• When I said I wanted you to cum on my tits, what I really meant to say was "Please don't jizz all over my nice sheets. Those stains are really hard to get rid of. Which you'd know if you ever did some goddamn laundry. That, my friend, is why I have no desire to fuck you at your place."
• When I saw you tearing open the Magnum XL condoms, I smiled. Not because I was impressed by your sheer endowment, but rather because I was amused at how incredibly delusional you were.
• When I said your touch was too much for me and brushed your hand away, what I really meant to say was "It's a clitoris, not a fully-threaded hex bolt; it doesn't need that kind of torque to manipulate it. Be gentle or hands off!"
• When I cut our kiss short and whispered that I want you now, what I really meant to say was "Good grief, do you kiss badly! Let's just skip to the main event, shall we?"
• When I said I had an impending early-morning meeting so you couldn't stay over, what I really meant to say was "What a letdown that was. Please just get the fuck out of here so I can erase you from my memory and get some sleep. But not before I spend some quality time with my vibrator."
• When I vetoed sex and said I was feeling too hot to cuddle with you instead, what I really meant to say was "Your lack of personal hygeine is appalling. The thought of any part of you contacting me at this stage repulses me. It's enough to make my skin crawl. Stay on your side. If I'm lucky, you'll figure out on your own that it's not gonna happen and leave of your own accord. That way, I don't have to be the bad person. Just make sure to figure it out quickly, so I can start burning my sheets before the ick takes up permanent residence here."
• When I said I just wanted us to be friends, what I really meant to say was "Be thankful we don't have friends in common, so no one you know will be aware of how abyssmal you are in the sack. Be thankful I was enough of a lady to neither spoil the moment nor hurt your feelings by being blunt. Do us both a favor and stay the hell away from me until you learn a thing or two."
  

Now if only I could work up the nerve to send this letter to each and every one of you.

Ed. note: Make sure to click on the link below that says "no non-blogger comments yet", 'cuz that's where some great feedback is.