I’ve been with some pretty egotistical guys.   With numbers like mine, you’re bound to get a few of them.  The worst offender had to have been #70.  He was so blatant about it.  He would tell me all the time how great he thought he was.  So great, that every woman he was with, fell in love with him.  That is until he met me.  I was going to be a challenge.

I’ve been in hardcore love three times.  More than some, less than others.  I’ve had a few medium loves and lots of fuck partners.  But for me to actually fall in love with someone, they have to impress the hell out of me on a lot of different levels.  The only thing that impressed me about #70 was his fucking skills.  I’m not discounting the obvious plusses of that, but the only way I was going to really fall for him was if I tripped on my way to the bedroom.

I wouldn’t say that my heart was broken three times; it was shattered.  Because of this, it’s going to take a lot more than a big cock and good pussy eating to get me to venture back into that emotional cesspool of potential hurt.  I told number #70 this.

“You’re just saying that.  You’re a girl, you fall in love.”

I explained that unless I really cared about someone, I was more like a guy.  No emotion?  No problem.  But he insisted I’d capitulate.  It became a major turn off.  And that defeated his purpose.   You’re a Boy Toy.  Your place is between my legs, not my chest.   Now shut up and fuck me.

Moral of the story, just because I bang you for a few months doesn’t mean you’re anything more than a one night stand.