I love fucking men. I really do. But, I have a perversion of sorts, because as much as I love a great romp, I enjoy fucking with their heads more. I don’t know what it is. I doubt it’s a birth defect, but I find personal pleasure in knowing that I end up on top (you can decide if the pun is or is not intended).
As far as being in competition with other women for a prized piece, I don’t play that game. I have far too much pride to participate in something so juvenile. Either a guy wants you, or he doesn’t. Case closed.
I am not a 10 or even a 9, but I have a sort of charisma and confidence that many other women simply do not covet. And many a time, I walk out of a bar, restaurant, wherever, with some sweet eye-candy, leaving the 9 and 10s scratching the foundation off their foreheads.
I’ve woken up in a plethora of beds. I’ve been tangled in Egyptian cotton, imported Indian silk, and strangely knitted cum-stained sheets. I’ve woken up next to multi-millionaires, drug dealers, supermodels, stockbrokers, pro athletes, a fugitive, and an Applebee’s employee. I’ve woken up in presidential suites, penthouse apartments, cozy lofts, and a trailer park. (I assure you, not one of my finest moments). I’ve had hours and hours of elongated romps, quickies, and pre-ejaculators. I’ve slept with great men, assholes, and those who were just there to pass the time. I would be lying if I said I haven’t regretted anyone that I have slept with. Trust me, I’ve fucked some serious losers.
Now, I am not a prostitute, nor a slut. I wasn’t raped or abused. And I sure as hell don’t have mommy or daddy issues. I have received proposals, private jets, diamond jewelry, love notes, and one too many mixed cheesy c.d.’s. I simply enjoy sex, and to be honest… I’m just fucking great at what I do in the sack.
No comments:
Post a Comment