. . . . . . . Throughout my life, starting in early high school, I could have dated extensively. I could have lived with these people, been provided a roof over my head and good stylish clothes to boot. Every girl would have remembered me, vividly. There is a girl now who is interested in me. I like her, but she’s an abuser. Once she told me to hit her after she hit me. Not good. I declined the offer to smack her back.
. . . . . . . Once I said, half-seriously, that I was going to have sex with all her friends. I know her friends like me too. The only question is whether they’re so low as to cheat on their girl-buddy and do it with me. I don’t know if I would. I rather suspect that they would, at least a few of them would.
. . . . . . . This girl and I … it’s complicated.
. . . . . . . She has difficulty reaching out to guys, and she has high standards anyway. By some miracle, I seem to meet her standards for guys. If we got together, we’d live in her place. She’d probably pay for most things, because, let’s face it, she has the money in the relationship. I have some cash saved up, but she dwarfs me.
. . . . . . . This girl has dark hair like I like, long dark hair. Her eyes are fierce and flashing. She’s a fighter, and so am I. I like everything about her. I even like that once I scared her. That amused me. She’s pretty tough to startle. I won’t hurt her, but putting the fear of Cat in her is pretty good.
. . . . . . . But back to the girls. Ah, the many, many girls… I am a pleasant house-mate. When I’m not feeling dominant, that is. Truss a girl up with silk scarves and choke her while fucking her deep. Then leave her alone and a little telly. Then back to resume thrusting down her throat.