There’s no point thinking that you can have the good and avoid the bad. I’m both.

I’m the epitome of madonna-whore. I love to fuck you, but I don’t love to fuck only you. I’ll throw myself into your arms, but then, there I am… in your arms when you least want me there. I’ll give you as much space as you need… and then I’ll give you more distance than you can bear. My smile will light up your world, and then it will become a smirk. I am wit, and I am sarcasm. I am compassion, and I am pathos. You’ll love my intelligence; you’ll hate my arrogance. My words will caress, then they’ll bite. When I turn my back on you, you won’t know whether I’m giving you my ass, or walking away from you. I’m manic energy; I’m desolation.

This is what I’m like… I’m your angel with the wantonly spread legs. I’m your dulcet-toned seductress who will fuck you raw. I can do elegance, with ease; I am the wild slut of your fantasies. I have confidence galore; I’m insecure and clingy. I’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear while we cuddle, and then I’ll scream profanities while I ride you to exhaustion. I’ll worship your cock one minute, and demand its obedience the next. I’ll beg you to hurt my body, and cry when you hurt my feelings. I’m strong, I’m fragile. I’m logical, I’m out of control. I want you; I need to be far, far away from you. I love you; I resent your importance to me.

If you want me — do you want me? If you want me, you’ll get what you want, probably, and much more… and the more won’t necessarily be pretty. In fact, for every beautiful moment, for every hot fuck we share, there will be a pout, a snarl, or a glare. For every perfect curve, there will be an ugly bulge.

Can you handle it? Can you handle me? Do you want to? Do I want you to? If you figure it out, if you figure me out, let me know. K?