Sex

Gold diggers

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Gold diggers

A man who has money is beauty for women just like how men look for beauty in women. Granted you wouldn’t marry a woman for her beauty but it sure helps. Money is attractive, money is intoxicating, it has the promise of fulfilling all your dreams. Visions of not having to struggle anymore, gracing balls wearing designer clothes burdened with sparkling diamonds that hang on your neck and wrists, driven in luxury and escorted by royalty. Which girl wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for a lifetime? This time the magic doesn’t dissipate, the clock keeps ticking, the fairy godmother on speed dial and the glass shoes keep on multiplying. Living in Mansions, walking on marble, oversighted by crystal chandeliers, swimming in heated pools and served by foreign butlers. There enters the Gold digger, the manifestation of every man’s fantasy. She represents a tunnel in the repressed subconscious mind. She fulfills you in every way you desire. She subjegates herself to you, granting you power. She soothes and fills what’s lacking in your life. She is your escape in a world were routine triumphs. She is exciting, new and forbidden, uses her body to make you yield into the temptation of her bosom. You can squeeze if you want to, that’s the whole point. She’s yours for a price. The esteem and prestige of being your wife, but no prenups. Also, she wants to be included in your will, a stake in the inheritance fund and half of everything you own and oh, she’ll get it all. Her cunning intelligence guarantees it. You are her gold mine and she’s not letting go. Unlike the typical woman who operates with the right hemisphere of her brain, she is a blend of both hemispheres, she is both feminine and masculine. She is not just a woman whose emotional and acts on her feelings, she thinks, she plans, uses reason and logic, she has drive, she is ambitious! You are the route to her Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, bespoke designer clothes, red bottoms heels and summer vacations in Monaco.

It was difficult to defend against the Blitzkrieg attack because it enveloped the enemy and crushed it with great speed. It gave you no time to think, no space to move, you were crushed by the weight of the attack. The perfect gold digger is akin to a blitzkrieg attack. You’ll never see it coming, she will crush you and dispose of you faster than the speed of light. Great gold diggers will seduce you, play to the repressed qualities of your being, ascentuate their body features, lower the pitch of their voices, play the demsel in distress, regress to a childlike persona, dominate through passivity to sink their claws in, marry you for your money and then divorce you. They are the definition of deception and smokescreens, they disappear like an illusion, like a dream, like it never happened. After you it’s on to the next one. You have to admire gold diggers because they are ambitious, they are driven, they have will, they want a good life and you are a means to an end. Gold diggers have balls, what makes them great is their ability to tap into their masculine sides while maintaining their femininity. That ambition will get you everything in life. I would love to be a Hugh Hefner, a magnet for gold diggers. To be surrounded by young, hot, beautiful women and have the relationships be platonic and transactional, using my pool and walking around the house in nothing but their birthday suits, oh Hugh cracked the code, the Playboy Mansion is heaven!

Cheaters

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Cheaters

Women cheat, men cheat, its human nature no one is perfect. Men cheat a lot but women are better cheaters. Women play the game better, they think long-term. Men just want to fuck. It’s not even a contest, your lady can break you down. She can cause permanent damage to your psyche, she can flip the switch to end your life. You don’t want to know who’s dick she’s sucked. And when she cheats, you won’t know a thing. Bet money now, you’ll get the biggest shock of your life! This is because female nature is more cunning in nature. It’s more chaotic and creative. The masculine brain is more leftist and derives it meaning from reason and rationality. The masculine brain wants to instill order while the feminine brain just doesn’t give a fuck, it wants to see everything burn! Nothing and no one is out of bound. Its difficult to catch your lady in the act of cheating because usually everything is so premeditated, so precise, there is so much detail, so much care, the deceptions, the story has had time to grow, ties that used to be platonic are metastasizing into something more. To go through with the process of cheating they need to feel secure, so most likely they will level up from the relationship they are currently in. It’s not uncommon for them to level down because sometimes the nigga with a bus pass has better dick game, but that’s for short-term results, they usually level up. They will be in stealth mode and wait for you to fuck up, they will even bait you to it and when you trip, leave your tired ass. Men on the other hand get caught cheating 9 out of 10 times. Men don’t invest as much as women in keeping infidelity a secret. The bare minimum will suffice and if they are caught well “I am sorry, I’ll never do it again” but that’s really just bullshit because men cavet everything. Everything is emotions with ladies so when she cheats it’s a double dagger to your spirit because she stopped investing in the relationship emotionally and started an entirely new portfolio with someone else. It means she stopped loving you, she stopped respecting you. If she stops respecting you then it’s over. It’s not redeemable like a voucher. Women can move on much faster because they stopped investing in you emotionally for quite some time and it might come across as cold and sudden but oh, it’s not, she has been stacking up your fuck ups for months and years. Women hold grudges and they remember everything. It’s useful for when they want to get back at you! Men on the other hand just want some pussy, it’s not deep, just some short-term gratification, it won’t hurt anybody, no one will ever know. More body counts doesn’t mean I love my lady less, just means I was hungry, I wanted some pussy. Let’s be real, men were never made to settle with one partner, that’s not how evolution works. If that were the case, our species would be in trouble. Men with strong genes have to take the lead, they get preferential treatment, if it means mating with more suitors then so be it. Strong genes signal vitality, health and life. It’s simply nature, has been that way from the beginning of time. There’s also the case that women outnumber men by 5 to 1. God is not an idiot. Women domesticate men for survival, it’s hardwired into their brains, we can understand that but it’s a projection and an attempt at control and is not really natural for men. When you really think about it, marriage is a fancy word for domestication. A man must sow his seeds and so he is bound to fuck up, it’s hardwired into his brain, it’s in his genes, his just gotta get variety on that pussy. When a woman cheats on the other hand that’s blasphemous! There is no coming back for a woman who cheats but “I can change” for a man who does, it’s expected, it’s his nature. Double standards I know but we are not hardwired the same. Women and men are not the same not even a sex change can alter that. Intent matters, we cheat to satisfy different things. Love and sex can be separated for men while love is a byproduct of sex for women. Cheating for men is hardly malicious, cold and calculated but it usually is for women. A woman will fuck your cousin to get back at you, now family gatherings are ruined forever. I know times have changed and women are more liberated with their bodies but have you ever been with a woman with a high body count? The intimacy, the connection, the warmth, her love, it’s all wrong, it’s not the same. She’s cold, distant, out of sync, avoidant and probably damaged. You can’t build something of substance with someone like that, she’s not interested in building anything. Where is her value? Where is her feminine essence? Body count matters especially for women, for men it’s just sex. Women can’t be in the casual sex game for the long haul whereas men can test drive different generations.

The Ultimatum

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The Ultimatum

When everyone knows you’re a writer, the stories come to you. On the weekend, I decided to see a couple of friends I hadn’t seen in a while. A friend was hosting an event and he invited me. I was excited and the event was a success. It was youthful, vibey and very summer. All I could see was girls in shorts and mini skirts. The place was illuminated by yellow thighs and you needed shades to let in the proper light in your retinas. The speakers were blasting Piano, of course and you could hear that lock drum and bass beating to the soul of the universe. There was happiness and it was contagious radiating throughout the room and manifesting itself on the dance floor. Tables were filled with bottles and hookahs connected to pipes emitting smoke that bubbled like a chimney from lungs that breathed out vitality and Joy. Oh, it was great. I drank alcohol and I smoked weed, I was hunk. A friend got into an altercation and the whole situation nearly spiraled out off control but luckily I managed to diffuse the situation. I can’t take all the credit, I am lucky he wasn’t a hot head, he chose peace. I merely told my nigga, “relax, his a fool let him take his petty win. Let’s focus on the girls we have here tonight”. He smiled and put his ego aside, calmed down, left the scene and let the fool be. Unfortunately, his girlfriend heard our conversation and she wasn’t happy with my proposed plan of “focusing on the girls here tonight” but she played it cool and intercepted my plan of action by keeping his man on lock for the whole night. For the whole night I couldn’t get to my nigga, she had her claws in deep. If I persisted she would give me this ice cold stare that you would get from a cobra with its hood raised up and I would cower because I knew her strike was venomous. I knew she had won, my nigga called me to the side and told me the plan was compromised and I shouldn’t protest that I must enjoy the night. So I did, I made a couple of connections and got a couple of numbers. A window of opportunity presented itself and the nigga came up to me and I was chilling with hot honeys, he was being courteous and wanted an introduction and so I obliged him. His girlfriend looking from afar catched feelings and gave him an ultimatum when he returned to her. It was between me and her. My nigga chose her and it’s no hard feelings. I understand, vagina always wins. I can’t compete with pussy. I would probably do the same thing. He took her home. We are fine, we still good friends and I ended up having a great night, if that’s too cryptic, I didn’t sleep alone.

Pussy whipped

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Pussy whipped

He’s pussy whipped, the claws of her vagina reeled him in like a fisherman and now he’s dangling on a string gasping for air, castrated and flat lacking a pair. He’s pussy whipped, a woman pleaser, always on her side but never gets to please her. Yet the woman is a rental and every man gets to lease her. He’s pussy whipped, on his knees begging for the cookie. Buying the whole shop but he ain’t never sample the pussy. She be controlling him like Lucy, using all her mental capacity to keep him in the deep sea, like we look good in this picture boo, see. He’s pussy whipped, respect and dignity evaporated like steam. She’s his biggest achievement, he’s retired, he never gets the cream. It’s a nightmare, it’s hard not to scream. Gave up his life and forgot about his dreams. He’s pussy whipped, worse is that she don’t respect him. Pitched me her pussy to make him the fool. Tore that shit apart cause I am so cool. Licked the plate clean and got rid of the drool. He’s pussy whipped, emasculated and mute. Has his clothes picked out, he’s a baby his cute. Never astute, follows the skirt like he doesn’t have a choice. Docile and obedient cause he doesn’t have a voice. He’s pussy whipped, without the pussy, he’s a simp! My nigga, get money, get pussy be a Pimp!

Our tits, my son

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Our tits, my son.

My son got born earlier in the morning and I am ecstatic. He is a gift from my ancestors and the Universe. I treasure him. He is my gold in a world that’s been digitized; valuable, tangible, priceless. It’s like falling in love for the first time, I am in la, la, land, heaven, a place of pure bliss devoid of the construct of time. I’ve never felt love quite like this, it’s like I am floating on butterflies through the clouds of the light blue sky. He makes me believe in miracles. There is a God, – he is proof, a blessing. I am thankful and grateful for this opportunity. I will teach him everything I know with an open heart and a lot of love. I will guide him. Help strengthen him to make sure he is the great man destiny intended. I’ll teach him about business and wealth creation. I was lucky I was broke and built an empire out of nothing. Being broke is experiencing your own mortality, it is being vulnerable and helpless to effect change or influence outside stimuli, that’s why I worked so hard to be rich, to have the illusion of immortality, to be invincible. You’ll be invincible from the start, girls are going to be sending you pictures captioned “you could tear this up”- I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll teach him about the importance of having an inner scorecard and not one based on external factors. Don’t claim to be anyone you’re not. Love yourself unconditionally. Respect everyone and beware of placing too much value on material things because they end up owning you, depriving you of your peace and happiness. When you say you are going to do something, do it, no excuses, be a man of your word my son. I’ll teach him about girls and women. True, they are an enigma and I don’t know much about their motivations and thought patterns. They are truly a strange species, unpredictable, highly volitile, sometimes unstable, frightening and devastating like a natural disaster. They are difficult to assess and understand, maybe they really are from Venus and us from Mars, it would certainly explain why it’s inhospitable for man; too much chaos presided, women can’t co-exist with one another and I don’t mean to boast but man is returning to Mars. Mars is a great place filled giant screens that showcase football and other sports daily, the home of Elon Musk, Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos, a place of sport cars and super sleek, fast Teslas, pool tables, infinite alcohol and drugs, no tough decisions, no responsibilities and no circumstances. A place of Goodfellas like Scorsese and De Niro but no death, just collaboration, a brotherhood and positive energy.

But in planet Earth, women are useful as you will soon experience. For one they register and process large quantities of data faster and more efficiently. This is important in the matters of life and death, you need a strong counsel. The trick is just to love and accept them as they are, don’t try to understand them or assert your will on them, understand that disaster might strike at anytime and accept reality for what it is – I think that’s what God intended. Just love them because even with all their uncertainties, they are the most valuable species in the whole Universe, they make life worthwhile, they are the nurturers of life. I’ll give you all the information I’ve attained from my interactions with them. I suggest you seek consultation from other wise men who will also share their experiences and knowledge, this will give you a more wholistic picture. I can’t guarantee concise data regarding women my son, no man can, we are from Mars and they are from Venus.

Of course, there’s this issue of the Oedipus Complex. I suspect there will be some hostility between me and you. You want to possess your mother (my woman) and you are rightly entitled to her. I won’t oppose you son, for the first few months, she is all yours. I will refrain from all acts of jealousy. I know you will appreciate those tits more than anything in the world. Your father is a genius, a visionary and I chose those tits for you. I qualified and discarded a lot of applicants for you to have those perfect tits. That’s my early gift to you because I love you so much. Enjoy them, take your time, don’t rush to get old, drive slow and enjoy the scenery and sensations. Those are our tits, my son, at least for now.

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Love you

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Love you.

I want to love you and treat you well. I want to build a home with you and start a family. I want to kiss all your troubles away and watch them dissipate like entropy. I want to be with you for a lifetime. I love you, you are my soul mate and in my heart I know I’ll never find better. You are my special gem, my Queen. You are my heart, the pulse of life that’s keeps me moving. You are my future, everything I yearn to be. You are my heaven, a place of bliss where everything makes sense. I love you. I know I am not perfect, I know I am heavily flawed but that’s why I need you, to make me better, to take care of me. I feel like Jerry Maguire, “you complete me”. You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel like I can fly. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I would go through hell to see you happy. I love you, let’s stay together.

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Faith

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Faith

If I could just see Faith just one last time. Yes, definitely in my top 5. I met her through a friend. Easily the greatest pass of all time. Thank you mpinch, I am eternally grateful. I really needed that pass. It was difficult with Faith. I never would have gotten that close to her without my boy. It was impossible. What made Faith a mission was the fact that she didn’t live in Gomora, she came here to visit her grandparents. She was a cheese-girl. She grew up here in Gomora and that’s how my boy knew her. When they were younger, they had this kids romance thing. I first saw Faith in 2010, I remember it was game day and Argentina was playing Nigeria. Argentina won courtesy of a Heinze header in the 6th minute. I wasn’t particularly impressed with that performance. Messi or Higuain didn’t score and I expected better. After the game I went out to get some air and there I saw her. It was as if time stopped for a while, everything proceeded in slow motion. It was like I was in a Scorsese movie looking at the girl of my dreams. She was absolutely perfect. She had a million dollar body. Great ass, good thigh to ass ratio. Flat stomach, she was fit like Serena Williams. Yellow bone in complexion. She had frickles on her face. That day she had just done her hair so she was brand new. She was a stunna! I remember looking at her and thinking “Nah, not today, Argentina had a bad game. Messi didn’t score. I can’t do anything today, I am useless”. Of course, I was rationalizing the whole situation. The truth is that heartburn set in and I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to her. What was I going to say to her? After that I always thought about her, thinking about how I missed a great chance and how I’d do anything for another chance. It was a while since I saw here again, I think I saw her again after a year. I was with my boy and it was like 8pm and we saw Faith walking with her friend. I flipped, I was like “Yoh mfana, here’s this girl again”. The showoff enquired “You mean her?” and I said “Yes, do you know her”. He said “Sure, follow me.” I couldn’t believe my luck. We approached the two girls and hey what do you know he did know her. We talked and we exchanged names. Mxit was a dying technology but I knew that I’d be able to get Faith’s number indirectly through that medium. So I asked and she gave it to me. I also asked her friends number for some diversion. The whole interaction needed to be neutral. I deleted the friends number when I got home and started work on Faith. We started chatting on Mxit and it was good for a while, so we took things to the next level and went to Whatsapp. I am really not a social media guy so it was all for her. I asked to see her in the flesh and I told her that I liked her and gradually things started happening. We spent a lot of time together when she came visiting. She made my heart beat like bass. We would go on dates. It was great. On the second date I screwed up, I don’t know why I did that. I kept talking about this girl I had a crush on in Primary who attended school with her. The girl I was referring to was a stunna and Faith knew her even though she down played it. Next thing I heard was how she didn’t like how I spoke because used a lot of “Tsotsi taal” in my language like “Why don’t you speak properly?”. I was confused but I realized I was trouble like “that’s how I talk, I can’t change”. She hinted I was too ghetto for her. She started drifting away from me. The more she pulled back, the more I advanced. It didn’t look good. I came across as needy and insecure. I ended up letting her go. Lesson learned never talk about another girl when you are with a prospective. It’s a simple one, I don’t know how I missed that one. I wanted to make her insecure, it backfired; a fools failed attempt. I did some Introspection. Man, Faith was great, she was beautiful, smart, had a great sense of humor, banging body and her laugh was incredible. She made me feel like Superman every time she laughed at my jokes. She was top quality.

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Koketso

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Koketso

I met a girl that I used to know today. Her name Koketso. I got acquainted with her in my teenage years. I was operating a shop selling high end candy. I didn’t really know her at the time but I was chilling at my shop with a friend and he was busy telling me about her. He was telling me about how she had a perfect body and how she was his girlfriend and how she fucked her. Okay that’s good, a friend getting a piece of ass is always good. Especially if it’s quality ass and it sounded like it. Naturally, I saluted him and told him that I’d like to see her some time. He responded, don’t worry, she’s always roaming the streets you’ll see her. That was a reassuring answer. I was happy with that answer. As fate would have it, she came by my store to buy candy later that afternoon. He pointed to her whispering “that’s Koketso” . I thought that was suspect behavior. He avoided eye-contact and kept his eyes on his phone the whole time. He was mute like a television set. It was like she was not his girl. It was a strange interaction. He was more scared of her. To his credit though he was telling the truth about her features, she did have a banging body. She was hot. I was impressed. After the transaction was completed and she left. I asked my boy why he didn’t talk to her. He gave me this whack explanation citing she was angry at him so I laughed at him. From what it looked like, Koketso didn’t even know who he was. I told him straight up that he was full of shit and that he was claiming. He swelled up and said he’ll show me next time. Next time came and we were by the shop. By now I knew Koketso, she was a regular customer of mine and because I always strive for raving reviews, I managed to strike up a conversation with her, she was complicit and engaged so we would always have wonderful conversations. Anyways this day she came up with her friend and my boy saw this as an opportunity to engage her to prove to me that he was not a fraud. He was flat-out ignored and the two friends continued conversing. He tried again and was halted by a “fosek wena, can’t you see we are talking”. Koketso was real like that, she didn’t shy away from telling you to “fok off”. It was brutal. After they left I laughed. Typical I thought, niggas always claiming to fuck girls they absolutely have no chance with. Koketso started coming more and more to the shop with her friend. Sometimes they would chill with me for hours while I moved product. Slowly her friend was omitted from the equation and it was just me and her. We got close and spent a lot of time together. It was great. My candy shop was generating a lot of attention. Koketso wasn’t the only one, I was popular among girls, many of them had crushes on me. It was cute but more importantly it was good for the bottomline. Still it was with Koketso that I spent a lot of time with. We never got ample time together to really connect because I wasn’t stationed in one location but today I saw her and she embraced me with a hug, we spoke for a couple of minutes, she was enthused, the chemistry is still there, the body has matured in all the right ways, she looked good. I looked at her like a slice of cake and thought “I could eat that”.

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Kayla

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Kayla

I remember when I used to work in a call center. I hated it. It was the closest thing to slavery because I had to work 12 hours a day. Sure it was 3 days in and 3 days off but that didn’t bring me any solace – they still owned 3 days in my life, in essence they owed half of my life. But how I rationalized the whole thing was that I had to pay my fees at Varsity. See I was taking myself to school and I was focused and motivated. I had a vision. Get a job, go to school, get my degree and I am home free. Except that my arrangement wasn’t practical, I was constantly in bondage. I felt myself wither everyday. It was like I was asthmatic, I felt myself running out of air. I was cornered by everyone’s expectations. Luckily I had an escape. Her name was Kayla and she was my age. We were the youngest pair at the time. Well, technically I was the youngest because my birthday is later but she was born in the same year. Kayla was beautiful. Sure the call center had hot women but she was the hottest. She was colored, had kind eyes, slightly long hair and the most beautiful smile. She had a purity about her soul. She was radiating, almost mythical like a unicorn. She had the unique ability of charming you from a distance. You were just mesmerized by her beauty. She was soft-spoken and elegant. She was calm and reserved. She was a lady. A lot of the guys wanted her. Naturally after training, I took refuge next to her. We were supposed to pair up with experienced call center agents who would help us get settled in. Kayla herself was not that experienced, she had been working there for like 6 months. I chose the agent next to Kayla who had ample experience. I conveniently chose a counsel of women to take care of me. It was great. After a couple of weeks, I had learned everything. I took a phone right next to her. We were getting the same type of calls from customers from the same company so I thought she would be able to assist me, if I ran into some trouble. She was great, she always assisted me with a pure heart. Kayla was kind and loving. We started bonding. We shared dreams and she told me that she wanted to be a Air Hostess and travel the world in the process. I thought it was great, she had the perfect profile; beautiful, reassuring, right height, right age, good communication skills, she was perfect. We would talk all day when we were not on the phone. Me and her had a connection, we could just talk to each other and there wouldn’t be any judgments. We were emphatic towards one another. We had a mutual understanding. We liked one another. Somehow she made 12 hours seem like 9 hours, and that’s great, that’s something. People started noticing and jealously started catching on like wildfire. The older guys in the call center who were marking Kayla started being hostile towards me but it was okay, it was not under my control. Besides, I knew what it was about. I know why none of them never made progress with her. They were too aggressive and that made her defensive. Their offense game was weak. They pursued her like they were catching a train. Rapid and fast paced, there was no romance, it was a bet of who could land the hot new girl. She felt like prey, like a piece of meat, she felt objectified. None of them had a chance with her because they were too expedient. Of course, I didn’t have that problem, she liked me, a fact that made people envious. I loved the energy I got from everyone from being around her, you know, I was seen, not ignored, I was popular, cemented, legendary, I was alive and the attention validated my existence. It was not in a boastful way, it was just that, you know – natural. She was my girl. I wanted to help her get into Aviation school so I did everything I could on my side. I had websites, numbers and tuition costs and we discussed everything at great length. Nothing really crystallized but we were still really close. I had thoughts of taking her out. I looked at my budget and it really made me angry. I had to pay rent, tuition fees and buy food. The remainder of the money wasn’t enough for a good date. I also didn’t have a car so I had to think logistics. And I still couldn’t afford those Puma Ferrari shoes that I wanted. Everything compounded, I hated my job, I didn’t have time for my thoughts, school wasn’t fulfilling or challenging, I was a repressed creative, my landlord was a jerk and I couldn’t take out Kayla on a proper date. I was living what Robert Kiyosaki had warned me about, “the rat race”. This is not what Napoleon Hill taught me. I rationalized everything with school but it wasn’t enough of a motivation anymore. My reasoning was a trap. I was dying and I knew it. It was like suffocating or burning to death, it was horrific. I went for leave to really think things through and to just clear my mind. I decided; “fuck it, fuck everyone, this is my life and I’ll do what I want. I don’t need anyone’s permission to live my life. I won’t live my life with fear. Fuck Varsity, it’s trapping my life and my mind, I don’t need a piece of paper validating what I can do, I am limitless”. That’s the thing I hate about the world, we created constructs that constrict the mind from flourishing. I resigned and started doing things that I wanted like writing my screenplay, learning about Investing, starting businesses and reading books. When I left I was the best call center agent, my numbers were really good, the manager tried to get me to reconsider but it was impossible. I stopped listening to the outside world that day, I stopped trying to conform. It was the best decision of my life. 12 hours a day and I still couldn’t take Kayla out on a proper date. Why live with such lack? Surely that’s not what God intended for me.

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Me, a one girl guy?

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Me, a one girl guy?

Me, a one girl guy?
Not my style.
I’ve got a main chick,
a mistress,
and bitches who just get dick from me.
For free.

The cookie connoisseur,
who licks what’s in between like an Oreo,
a monster,
whose reach stretches farther Sesame street, dominating the game and winning like a cheat.
Unbreakable code,
hidden like a snake in its hole,
I am in the zone,
penetrating girls to their soul.

Me, a one girl guy?
Forget it.
I get pussy like a douche,
banging from the side like bass to the sound of headboards.
The lord of seduction,
introducing my dick like induction,
construction,
building up momentum till contraptions.

Me, a one girl guy?
Please.
There’s plenty of fish in the ocean and I absorb into their skin like lotion.
In constant motion,
bewitching their hearts like a potion.
A little caution,
I terminate relations like abortion.

Me, a one girl guy?
For you?
For sure.
Interested?

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