Premature ejaculation

I have played this game before. I dated a man who loved facebook and refused to read my blog. I love to gamble. I discussed all his damn business and flaws. All he had to do was read it. It was a test to give brent my password. I love him dearly. He could invest time in me and find out my secrets. I simply know he won’t do it. I was so tired this morning. He sent me a skype message that said ‘I could really use a friend to talk to.’ I would stop anything and respond to his message.

Love is a strange thing. He announced he was getting divorced. When he told me why I wanted to hunt down his wife and beat her bloody. I was told not to hurt her. She needs her ass beat by a real woman. Our talk lasted hours. If you need a dose of self-esteem just ask. I build people up for qualities other people don’t see. In the process I usually get insulted. A whole dimension of my life was a deep devotion to a group of smart boys that called themselves ‘the losers.’ Keeping track of which one I was dating is difficult. They all hurt me and chased to get me back.

I have mixed emotions. In some ways I feel love and support. In other ways I feel like I was beaten. He knocked down my self-esteem. It feels like when I was ten and a beautician unexpectedly gave me a mullet. It took years to undo the damage of a mullet. I know wealth is a huge part of the equation. He is used to nice things. A part of his style is a perception of beauty that is flawed. When we had our first discussion why he never found me attractive one of the ways he explained his views was showing me a beautiful woman in a magazine. She was a thinner version of kim Kardashian in a dress I hated. I laughed because she wore so much eye make-up she looked like a raccoon. She had the jewelry and fancy purse. She had fake tits and a fake smile. As much as I love him he wants a model ready for a photo shoot. He is aiming for a trophy.

At one point he said ‘lynn you’re not ugly.’ In many ways he tried to help me. It was the way he said it. He doesn’t know me very well. Any of the boys I did hook up with would have no problem saying ‘you’re really beautiful.’ It’s more than the way I look. It’s my goddamn personality. I know when I was singing his praises I declared him as special as the fucking pope. When a woman like me takes your weak moment and hands you that compliment treat her right.

It was hard to listen to him brag about wealth. One of my competitors as a woman is named Karen. When I was busy he talked to her. He went on a tangent about the fact she had eighty pairs of shoes. I had to laugh. My shoe problem is funny. I hate changing shoes. It is normal for me to have one pair of flip-flops and one pair of sneakers. It is never an issue. I share shoes with my mom. She had a nice pair of sandals. I don’t remember how I dropped one down the air vent. She was pissed. I was wearing my flip flops when I fell through the vent and got trapped. In one week I got two shoes down a deep shaft. It pisses me off. I am sharing one pair of trashed out grandma clogs with my mother.

I can’t make him comprehend a level of poverty when shoes are a luxury. He asked me my shoe size to see if he could score me his wife’s shoes. She has huge feet and mine are tiny. Shoes are irrelevant to me. He is good to me. He said when I get paid I’m giving you a hundred bucks. I declined the offer. It was the pity in his tone and the information it would be a gift and not a loan. He told me 'I could give you that money rather than let my wife spend a hundred dollars on organic kale. It hit me hard. He is trying to help me. It is such a huge blow.

I tried to explain to dave it happens on a regular basis. He will hire me to be his maid. People underestimate my good nature. I told him when she left the first time I would take care of him. I love cleaning a man’s house and doing laundry. You don’t have to pay me to clean. Trying to tell him I would do it for free confused him. The irony is the offer started at twenty bucks an hour. When I said free he dropped it down to ten. He was enthusiastic. He explained his need for social interaction. He asked me if I could cook those two nights. I was honest. I don’t cook. He said ‘I have money and I’ll buy you a gourmet meal.’ He said if you want to crash I have a comfy couch. Being a gentleman he said ‘actually I’ll take the couch and give you the bed.’

I love him dearly. The idea of getting paid to clean his toilet and sleep in his bed hurt. I let him know our relationship meant I would crash on the couch and not take his bed. Irony is that I think of him as a brother. I would do anything just to hang out with him. I need social interaction just as much as he does. I could also use the money. Launching this campaign is a mission to buy shoes and not be a fucking maid. I want success to teach ten losers a huge lesson. If a woman declares you pope, wants to beat your wife, run your household and makes you happy don’t make her a maid. Put a diamond on her damn finger.

Each loser should’ve been a diamond. Now it’s time for the good shit. What he doesn’t know is the sexual pleasure I offer. He has no clue why all his friends pursued me. I accepted my status as the maid. Then I busted out the sex aspect. A huge part of our unsexual bond is the fact I went for his brother. Timing for me was perfect. My dad died and my boyfriend left me. That weekend our friend threw a party. Brent’s brother was a mystery. I love him to death but I love hot men. I also have addictions. My boyfriend was 6’7. Brent’s brother had to be 6’8. He was fucking hot.

That night I looked sexy. I had a see-through purple blouse that was notorious. I connected with him brother immediately. I know brent doesn’t think of me as a hot chick. His brother melted. It was so damn cute. Our chemistry was wicked. I go for it. I wanted him alone in my attic. I made up some excuse to go to my house. I asked him to come with me. We were like little love birds so fast it was scary. Trying to explain it to brent was classic. I told him after the incident ‘dude your brother came in his pants.’ After all these years Brent asked for details.

Brent imagined a totally different situation. We started making out. How do you tell a boy who is like your brother intense sexual addictions? I described it as grinding. It is an issue with me. I told him suddenly your brothr came. I had to explain at least three times that my hands never touched his brother’s cock. He thought the incident involved my hand on his dick. I told him that was the weird part. It was a hand free orgasm. He busted out with ‘he came when you were only dry humping?’ I let him know we were both fully dressed. He was bewildered.

Explaining my sexual nature was difficult. It started with his friend alex. I will get to that story. I could only say it was violent. He was confused. He had no concept of severely aggressive foreplay. Neither did his brother. I was turned on. What I did was intense squirming and teasing. He was older. I thought he could handle it. I hook up with men I want and lose my mind. The feeling of a hard cock pressed against my pussy turns me into such a slut. I know our height difference put us in my sexual peak. I got him in bed to quick. My soft tiny body modeled against him. If your cock is pumping against my clit I’m chasing an orgasm. I’m moaning. I’m talking dirty. I have my fingers digging into your shoulders. Most of all I am maniacally sucking and licking your neck.

I am damn good in bed. It happened so suddenly. I couldn’t stop him. He soaked his jeans in a huge load. He freaked out on me. Brent asked if he was embarrassed. I know that was part of the problem. I also know what I can do to men. He felt totally violated by intense rapid sexuality. I remember him saying ‘how can I clean this up?’ The look of shame and disgust on his face was priceless. The huge cum stain on his pants made me want to laugh. I was sweet. I have had other men blow a load during foreplay. I take it as a huge compliment. He couldn’t look at me or speak to me ever again. In his eyes it was like being ****d by an orange haired teenage girl with no self-control. I don’t know why one brother thinks I am below his standards and the other brother feels ****d. I had no choice but to tell brent what else happened that night.