She can't reach her clit... she even said she doesn't like men to go down on her, the only orgasm she knows is the food one.
This is tragic, fuckin tragic. 37 years old, multiple boyfriends, has never once gotten off. All those “ho day” homeless hookups, done for free cheeseburgers or for attention and to feel briefly wanted. None of it pleasurable in the least. No wonder she said that 2-minute pump and dump by her friend’s scottish boyfriend was “the best sex she’d ever had.” She meant he was the best looking of all her partners and probably the least demeaning, and stealing another girl’s man was fun. She didn’t get off, she’s
never gotten off. Ever
.
You know a girl’s never had an O if she hates getting eaten out. I’m starting to suspect Chantal doesn’t even
know where her clit is. I wasn’t aware she bought the Fauxtachi just for Nader, but that makes so much more sense. This sow doesn’t masturbate on her own, except by forcing half a meter of sandwich down her throat.
I did read an article once about a woman whose brain wires were crossed from birth and she orgasmed by eating ice cream and other such activities. From the way Chantal rolls her eyes back, moans and slumps in pleasure on the first giant mouthful of every greasy meal, I’m starting to wonder if she doesn’t
actually physically orgasm from greasy, fatty food. Would explain why she thinks life would be utter misery without cheeseburgers.
If you told a normal person they needed to lose weight and could never have an orgasm again in order to accomplish that, they’d likely tell you to piss off.
Fucking disgusting. People really live that that huh.
Sure, if you can really call doing cut-rate drugs and having sex with Chantal “living.”
That sounds like the description of a female orgasm some hack wrote in a Harlequin romance novel circa 1991 when all of their content was PG-13.
Oh, don’t worry. She says she plans to clean her car “next month” because I guess ants aren’t a thing in Canada.
Please, Harlequin books of yore would describe a female orgasm as “an ecstatic symphony of passionate fireworks” or some such twaddle. There are websites documenting the best and most confusing descriptions of sex in those books and it’s incredible. Women apparently orgasming rainbows and triumphant flocks of doves right out their vaginas.
“It’s warm fuzzies” and “you pop” is somehow all our english major Chinny can manage. 2/10 would not furtively read on the bus on the way to Mabel’s for tea.
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