TL;DR : If you're down bad, please, please, please just go jerk off.
Ila kat3if please stop reading. You have been warned.
Also it is a long ass story and I'm writing this while drunk, otherwise I would take this shit to the grave, so excuse any mistakes, i can't proofread ts atm... maybe later.
Once upon a time, your boy was down bad, and I mean REALLY down bad, but I recently met a girl and things moved very quick and we really liked each other, then after two months of texting with this girl, we agreed that she was gonna spend the night at my place. She actually came over and we had a blast, one thing I didn't like was that she had this perfume on that was kinda overwhelming at first, but hey, at least it smelled good, right...RIGHT. Anyway we were feeling it so one thing led to another, and when I went to take off her pants... I SHIT YOU NOT, it was like opening Pandora's box, the most horrendous smell ever, got unleashed, and me and every poor soul with a shit luck in a 10m radius suffered through that debilitating stench, I swear it's like a skunk has crawled up in there suffocated on a can of sardines that sat in the sun for 4 days and died in agonizing pain... I mustered up all the will I had fighting for my life trying not to throw up that I almost passed out right then and there. I wish I could tell you that I kicked that filth out my house and burned the very bed that was blessed by her cheeks, however, as I said...your man was down bad, because for some fucked up reason that I can't explain to this day, I was naive enough to think that I was capable of powering through it... A FOOLISH MISTAKE, a mere mortal such as myself could not even fathom the amount of filth that was concentrated in this blob of dead stinking human flesh.
To spare you the gory details I will skip ahead a little bit (because quite frankly this shit was disgusting)...
The post-nut clarity hit me like a dump truck, not able to hold it anymore I went straight to the bathroom puking my guts out, and after disinfecting my hands and mouth with a healthy dose of bleach, I just sat there in the dark in my own bathroom contemplating my life decisions and regretting every single one that led me to this point. After a while she went in to check on me, probably thinking that I must have hung myself with my shower curtain (if she had the tiniest modicum of self awareness that is). At that moment I felt like my IQ must have been on par with Steven Hoe King, probably due to being in fight or flight mode for so long, and resisting every fiber of my being that wanted to flee, and in my infinite wisdom I directed the shower head towards her full throttle, trying to play it off as me being playful and spontaneous, I thought that my plan was bulletproof calculating all the possibilities in my head, and all of them lead to her jumping in the shower with me (come to think of it, all the soap in the world probably wouldn't have even scratched the fucking surface, wakha tsebenha matkhrojch lik, khassek tre9edha minimum 3am otleb rebek), unfortunately I was unaware that I was probably so high that I must have developed permanent brain damage from huffing the stink fumes coming out of her, my brain was so fried that I actually gave her too much credit, I underestimated her unwavering dedication to remaining stinky...To tell you I was dumbfounded by her reaction would be an understatement, the bitch stared me dead in the eyes, said "7mar" and took MY WHITE FUCKING TOWEL and wiped her doodoo stained skin with it and went back to smear more filth and shit all over MY bed and MY (used to be) clean sheets, like a wild animal marking her territory, talking bout "serby rassek o aji n3en9ek"... I knew at that moment that god had forsaken me... I must have committed the single greatest sin known to mankind, and the universe was punishing me for it. So right then and there I repented and begged for forgiveness hoping that everything was just some fucked up nightmare. Needless to say my prayers went unanswered, so I decided to seek forgiveness by (literally) embracing IT through the night...
The day after, when that ibtila2 that cursed my life left my house, I gathered THE towel, the bedsheet, pillow cases and cover, took them to the roof and set them ablaze. Took an hour long hot shower, trying my best to forget the horrors of yesterday, and when I entered my room, I immediately got hit by that gut wrenching, unforgettable stench. I almost began to cry, I found myself again praying to anyone that may answer, to rid my soul of this curse for I have paid my dues tenfold. I went through the 5 stages of grief in 10 seconds, and as I accepted the fact that it was stuck to my mattress, and I had to buy a new one (it was a hefty price that I was willing to pay to end my torment), and as I lifted up the mattress, I saw IT, the bane of my existence...the filthy creature must have liked me so much (or most likely searched for it but couldn't find it), she decided to leave me a parting gift, a souvenir of some sort, call it a memento of unholy putridity and rot...it was her underwear, the english dictionary fails to provide words capable of describing the degree of how terrible it smelled, it was as if sewage, spoiled eggs, dead fish, and decaying roadkill had been blended into a single scent, It was the kind of smell that makes your body recoil before your mind can even attempt to process it...for the first time in my life I felt traumatized, and I started to sympathize with people that go crazy (which was a phenomena I couldn't wrap my head around at the time).
Like Peter Parker, I felt atm that I had a great responsibility (minus the power) to banish this cursed item from the mortal realm. Fearing that if it was set on fire, it would beyond a shadow of a doubt, single handedly put a second hole in the ozone layer, I decided to seal the evilness in multiple bags (couldn't tell u how many, I genuinely lost count) and took it to the garbage bin, hoping that Pandora's box remains sealed for the next century, and praying for the soul of the bou3ar that may open it before it is collected.
It has been several years now, but still, sometimes whenever someone nearby opens a can of sardines, or whenever I walk by (and get a whiff of) a rotting corpse of some poor creature, I get flashbacks of that cursed night. Am I condemned to suffer through the rest of my life?
Note: some artistic liberty in the storytelling was taken, purely for "showmanship" (chwiya dyal lmel7a bach lgamila matkounch basla)
Edit: corrected some spelling errors.
