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28 February 2010

If I'm on the Rag, Get Off Me

I don't like period sex.

There. I said it.

That might ruin the image I have of myself as a fairly sex-positive person, but I just can't get into it. It's not that I find menstruation gross or unnatural--in fact, most months I exhale a long sigh of relief when I see that rust-colored blood come forth as proof modern medicine has kept me from reproducing for another month. But once I see the stain, I don't want to see a dick inside me until it's over.

The reasons for this? First of all, I really don't like a mess. I've just started remembering to pull the comforter off the bed before fucking because it's easier to toss sex-sullied sheets into the wash than the whole blanket. Most months, a post-coital scene when it's that time would look like the horse head scene from The Godfather. Which, quite frankly, nobody needs to see.

But the major reason why I don't want to fuck at the height of my period is because I don't want to be touched by any one for any reason while I'm on the rag. I'm so bloated I feel I might pop like a tick on the back of a dog. My boobs hurt. I've got gas. All I want to do is indulge my food cravings and be left the hell alone until I feel like a human being again.

If you're into shagging on the rag, I salute you. But if you need me, I'll be on the sidelines until the day Aunt Flo leaves town.


twg said...

The first day, no. But after that I'm good to go. Black towels FTW.

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