We both needed to fuck, and be fucked well. I made the profile when I couldn’t stand the unsatisfying lack of satiation any longer, and he was my first pick. I wanted to be dominated, I wanted to fuck an older man who required little instruction, I wanted to be touched and wanted and needed by someone who could keep up with me.
I wanted to act out the fantasy I’d thought about as I touched myself for so many years of so many nights spent longing for a proper fuck.
For sex that went on for hours.
For sex that was hot and carried no complicated, boring, pitiful, and emotionally unstable male baggage…
…like unending texts,
…like expecting me to respond happily to unsatisfying sex and disregard my pretty body in my prime and disregard my desire to make dirty love all night long to a man that fucked with genuine reciprocity
…like feeling expeditiously entitled to be clothed and fed and sheltered while I work overtime as an RN to provide comfort to unemployed garbage that fucks for 90 seconds every few days
…like fucking me full of the lifeless ennui that grows inside when I stopped expecting lovers to give a shit if I cum or not, a life full of prematurity immaturity inability incompetency
…like recurring revolving doors in a magic mirror funhouse of disappointment of two minute floundering pounding pushing some inadequate hard-on into my curvy body
…like premature fucking cumming from an unsatisfying ocean crashing waves of selfish lovers sending dick pics they should have been self-conscious about, ashamed of, and who wouldn’t leave until they drained their balls AND ultimately my will to keep searching for anyone with even just a few of the qualities I needed in a man.