Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Simon/Joy: Work with me here

So, here's my argument in favor of casual sex: the more you get to know someone, a lot of the time, the less you want to bone them.

At least when I was a guy, I could ignore a bland personality by staring at her tits and just counting the minutes until they were in my hands. If they wanted a drink or five first, I could wait.

But guys? Let me tell you... guys suck. They are boring as hell company. None of them matches my wits or intelligence, so I feel like I'm wasting my time. Everything they want to tell me, that I'm supposed to find so impressive, they want to think it's the first time I've heard it. Like I'm some precious empty-headed bimbo just waiting to be filled up. Mostly they want to talk about their boring job or their boring car or the lame places they've traveled or their season as a defensive lineman in the NFL. Who cares, he didn't even make the playoffs, and I'm Browns all the way anyway.

Because of this sudden repulsion to the male psyche, I've narrowed my roster down a lot, and this has given me a chance to explore things with Stretch. Stretch is cute, as I've admitted, and he can hold a conversation, but he does get a little mawkish when the topic strays from work. Every so often he'll openly flirt with me and it'll warm me up inside a bit, but then he goes back into his shell. Problem is, I feel like by even going out with him this much, it's opened up a Pandora's box... people at work are gonna talk, and if it ends badly that could screw up the dynamic.

I took him dancing on Friday, but he mainly hung out by the bar while I hit the dancefloor. His loss - I hope he wasn't too jealous watching me practice my twerking. That's right, I can shake it pretty hard when I want to - I just wish I had a little more to shake. Instead of joining, he leaves early and just gives me a quick goodbye.

Honestly, if that doesn't light a fire under him I don't know what will. I think it just made him feel bad, and if that's the case, I'm probably not the gal for him.

Look, I could be the guy here. I could take him by the hand and lead him through life and be the first to say "I want you, let's do this." But I don't want him until he shows he wants me. He has to cut the meek shit and man up if he wants this.

Maybe I'm a tease, maybe I'm leading him on, but I don't care. I'm leading the life I want and if he's a good boy I'll let him be a part of it for the remainder of my time here. He's lucky. There's other guys I could be pursuing. I mean, besides the other ones I actually am with.

Why am I doing this you ask? It feels good. To have power over men - as many or as few men as I choose, with as little effort as I want to expend. To pursue pleasure with no guilt. What a gift. I'm not worried about compromising my manhood at all. Someday I'll be me again, and this will all be some hot, sexy, mildly perverse dream I can look back on fondly on my lonely nights.

But for now... Joy doesn't chase.

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