Text adventures #1

I asked him...

Me: "Why are you afraid of me?"
Him: "You're beautiful, classic, sexy, nasty, naughty, fly, smart, you have great taste, you're talented, you can cook, your pussy is so fucking good. The way you fuck is an art. I mean you garden, for God's sake. Women like you are dangerous. They make lesser men lose their minds. They bring great men & kingdoms to ruin....but, they can also make lesser men great & inspire already great men to be immortal."
Me: "That shit made my day."
Him: "You asked, I told you."

I abuse my power as a woman and I have no intention of stopping. I eat men for protein.

The older bookstore man

For some reason I can’t stop thinking about the older man at the book store. I liked his confidence. I liked that he asked me questions. He asked as if he was interested. I was nervous. He probably detected it...but he was charming. I liked the feel of his presence. I liked the smile he gave me as I left.

BDSM test results

== Results from http://bdsmtest.org/ ==
83% Girl/Boy
70% Primal (Prey)
66% Non-monogamist
63% Vanilla
58% Submissive
54% Exhibitionist
53% Primal (Predator)
52% Brat
41% Switch
41% Voyeur
38% Experimentalist
38% Slave
34% Degradation Receiver
25% Masochist
20% Bondage Receiver
17% All-Rounder
15% Brat Tamer
11% Degradation Giver
9% Dominant
8% Sadist
4% Bondage Giver
4% Daddy/Mommy
0% Master/Mistress
0% Pervert
See my results online at http://bdsmtest.org/result.php?id=162993

On knowing someone.

I don’t think that you can truly know someone until you have fucked them, I mean really fucked them, only then will their little hidden personality traits reveal themselves, only then will you see their true colours.

Another man that I've apparently enchanted, when I asked him what my aesthetic is...

He said that my aesthetic is of "myrrh and pomegranates, gold ceilings and saints, the Virgin Mary blue as the Mediterranean, old stone churches, lime trees, night open air cafes, sepia photographs of elegant grandfathers"...his words conjure a sort of embellished nostalgia, a sensuous daydream. How fortunate I am to experience such rapture at the blessing of his words.

My political typology results

One of my gentlemen friends told me the other day...

...that he dreamt of a woman sitting on a deep rouge upholstered sofa, a highball glass filled with Flor de Caña rum sweetened with Agave nectar and garnished with a clove, voices worn out by cigarettes and the late hour. What an atmosphere...what a woman...he imagined that she was me. That this was my aesthetic. Men. Such glorious creatures. <3