...to read this. I have used variations of several of those many times in my life. Women have 'heard it all'... well, any woman worth picking up, and they appreciate a change-up. "Wanna fuck?" is always popular. I lost track of how many women said yes and picked up their purses and we left. I got slapped once, slapped her back (which started a movie-style bar brawl of heroic stature, I mean people were getting thrown through windows) and she still blew me in the car and then took me back to her place for seconds. Good times...
On a completely unrelated note (maybe) you can tell a lot about someone by the way they cuss. I don't know exactly what, but it's a lot. Fer instance, I just knocked my pills over while reaching for my second brandy and egg nog (yeah, it's 11am...your point?) and I hissed 'cocksucker motherfucker!'.
Now, the wife can cuss like a sailor when riled, but she's a one-word cusser. It's filthy, and she delivers it like the barbed end of a whip. Usually in words of one syllable. If I hear 'mother fucker!' I know that she has likely spilt something in the kitchen.
Speaking of blow jobs, this hottie one time actually had me out and up-periscope, her warm breath laving my proudness, and she pulled back and said "Oh I just shouldn't, the first time we are together, you'll just think I'm such a slut..."
Now mind you, she still has her hand around my shovel handle, and is pumping, a bit. I believe the proper response would have been something along the lines of... well, you know, but I didn't want her showing me the other end of it, so...
That there is all the proof you'll ever need, right there, that men do not naturally rape, cuz if anybody needed a good rapin...
Anyway, she went on (on the second and subsequent dates) to become one of the biggest and bestest sluts I have ever known, and God Bless her for it (her name was Joy...it is what she gave me, and hers is one of the few names I remember, so that should tell you something).
There is nothing mysterious about men and women. We were made, designed to fit together, two pieces of the same glorious, simple puzzle, a Rubik's Cube where all of the sides are the same color. No matter how you turn it, you win.
I have to smile when I hear people talk about how complicated it all is. A gourmet dinner, done correctly, is complicated, but in the end, you just sit down and eat the fucker. And who cares which fork you use.
Crikey, they write books on it, and devote entire magazines to how complicated relationships are. Feed her, fuck her, listen when she talks, and don't take any more of her shit than you feel like taking. Women? Substitute 'him' for 'her'.
Why complicate things?
You can lead a horse to water, and then do whatever it takes to make them thirsty enough that they want to drink.