I dona��t think I am a strong woman. Intelligent, a little. Mouthy and opinionated, absolutely. Strong, not so much. Many of my friends think I am. But in reality, I see myself as just me. I do know one thing; I need a strong person to stand next to me. I am a handful. I am spoilt and needy and have no problem fighting against someone who expects me to do this, that or the other thing.
I prefer to move when I want, and I am the bossy one. Ita��s hard to find someone who knows how to work around that. Some guys try to be headmaster, most times, this act is met with naughty student attitude. A woman who will break your balls for the giggle of it.
When a guy literally comes at me with the a�?Ia��m your king, you will bow to mea�? attitude, it is not going to happen sweetheart! I am going to flaunt everything you know you want and when I give you tastes, ita��s only going to be enough to make you fall in love. That way, when I break your heart, you will definitely know what being in total control means.
Women like me (hurt and bruised in love) are the man-eaters, we dona��t give a **** about you and where you think you fit in our lives and that of our children. We will sit your puppy *** on the couch while we run our finances. We do it because we can. Ita��s to prove a point, point being DONa��T **** WITH ME. People get things twisted, and they think because I am a single woman and sweet they can make me do as they say.
I dona��t care how good looking you are, or how smart you are. Your manhood could be dipped in gold and diamond encrusted, and I will still use and abuse you (like how I was abused at one point) and walk away throwing up the twoa��s, while you are lying there in a pool of tears begging me to stay.
But oh I never saw the but coming but on rare occasions, therea��s that guy. That one guy who is true and dear, he doesna��t have to say it, you can smell it on him. That gets me hot. This guy is a panty drencher. Hea��s the one you have to be careful playing cat and mouse with. If you mouse too long, hea��s disinterested. If you dona��t mouse long enough, you become a cum dumpster (night stand) for a night and hea��s the one with deuces up while youa��re shaking and scratching like a teenager. I have, fortunately, never been smacked down like this. But I have seen some of the baddest girls I know become young in love again.
Right now, I only know of one true guy. I keep him at arma��s length, at least I try to. He is about this close to making me a wanton b***h. I cana��t help it. Out of the many guys I know, hea��s the only one I can say, without a doubt, has a hope of handling me. I thought there were others, but after some time and some thought I realised the ones I thought were kings among men, were nothing more than peasants dressed above their stations.
This guy on the other hand, is an unassuming guy. Just a regular guy on the surface, but after one decent conversation with him, I knew I would have him. For an hour, for one night, for a while, for the rest of my life one way or another I would claim him. I dona��t just mean physically, or emotionally. I want to steal a piece of him. I want to imprint me on him somewhere, I want to randomly pop in his head. I want him just as wet for me as I am for him.
When the realisation hits that this guy isna��t what I want/need/thought, I always go back to lusting after him. That shoulda��ve told me something, but in true me fashion, I ignored and just lusted. After lots of thought, and some fantasy, and a few pretty hot writhing sessions under my own hand. And I brought it up to a few friends, then I actually started talking about maybe just maybe. . . A few guys in my life, say hea��s got some thing for me. My sister says its feelings. A few of my female friends say hea��s twisted, but he doesna��t trust me, and that I need to just lay it out there how I feel. But really? He is the kind of guy that would laugh, toss with my head, and make me young at heart again. Why would I want to catch someone like that?? You just dona��t get it do you?? The fact that he could seriously have the power to mess with my head, and possibly hurt me, intrigues me.
He is T-R-O-U-B-L-E, devilish smile and all. I dona��t want hurt, no one wants that. Therea��s some cliche that fits here but right now I am thinking of his hands pressing me into him. Forgive me for being a little brain dead in that aspect.
I wish I knew what it was about him that makes me want to bow. I want to submit to him, let him have his way. I want him to be the one to break me. I want to be the one to break him. I want this craving to be slaked, to know that I wona��t go hungry, I will finally be sated. I need someone strong enough to hold me down, someone serious enough to balance my silly, but someone soft enough to kiss my forehead and let me nuzzle my face into them when I am scared, and funny enough to keep me laughing. He is the guy I asked Santa for end of 2013.
He just doesna��t realise it. And if he would just say he was interested in something with me, he would have no reason to not trust me. I may be opinionated, I may flirt and put it out there that I am play on playa playa (I am pimp) but for this guy I would be girl next door when it came to that. I am loyal to a fault when ita��s reciprocated. There is a time and a place to have this kind of fun. . . but when there is a possibility of something, you cowgirl up. Ia��ve been single for over months now. I am terrified of anything more than a steady piece, but I would brave it for this guy. . . I wish I could tell him that. Honestly I probably could have his name out on this national tabloid, because I dona��t think he reads my columns like Ia��d like him to. Or maybe he does, maybe he is that into me, and I am just being stupid. I dona��t know anymore. I am a touch old school and I think the guy should be the one to put himself out there first. Ia��ve been through a lot in the past, wasted two years chasing imaginary love with a certain idiot. I am everything that could make this guy happy. I just need to figure out how to get him to see it too. I want to do it honestly. No games, no bullshit, no faux coy chess moves, just being me. Until next Friday, spread love.
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