I can't believe that I waited for 3 years for this opportunity and the night that it took place, you were shit-faced and vomited in my crotch during a round of ultimately uncomfortable sixty-nine. Of course I had already gotten you off, you jizzed directly into my left eye. I shrugged, wiped my face and exited stage left to the bathroom. I understand the dynamics of drunken sex and given that this was a special night you're actually very hot, I decided to continue, hoping desperately for even an accidental orgasm. While lifting pieces of your partially digested nachos from my navel, you proceeded to ask if I was going to eat that. Feeling bitter, I offered you a taste. I felt obligated and rather guilty at that point and offered to make some coffee in efforts to usher you back into sobriety. You responded, "Thanks, Becky." My name is Susan.
I filed for divorce the next day.