“You don’t pay a hooker to fuck you. You pay her to leave.”
Ever hear this phrase? Surely, you have, it’s pretty commonly known. That statement is less about the hooker and more about your wife or girlfriend. Every man dreams about a woman who is not afraid to fuck you back. I’m sure your ball and chain was like that once upon a time. Every girl hunting for a husband worships her man’s cock when she’s in pursuit. It’s after she’s got him that she puts the Do Not Enter sign on her mouth, pussy and ass. Your chances of getting laid go from slim to none. The entire courting process has become disappointing. A man is expected to make the first move, show her a good time, pay for everything, hold the door, and always be a gentleman. What’s her responsibility? Show up and that’s about it. Eventually, if he proves himself worthy, she might grow to like him and the attention he showers on her. It’s then, and only then, that she takes off her clothes and gives him the reward he’s been working towards. At that point, she knows she better put out, or he’ll move on. In time, the sex becomes less frequent, the fire of passion in the relationship turns to smoldering coals, but he’s expected to continue supporting her. The man’s responsibilities don’t have an expiration date. A honeymoon all too often is her victory lap. It signifies the beginning of his bondage and the end of her efforts. Should he have a problem with this, she’ll start all over, find another man, spread her legs and fly away.
To one degree or another, I know this is familiar to you. This is one of the many reasons I am so important in your life. I’m always here, and I’m always hot for you. Your cock is always welcome between both sets of my lips. She wears sexy panties and thongs when you’re courting her, but dreadful old lady underpants afterwards. If I even think to wear a bottom; I find it looks best on the floor beside the bed. In short, I offer you everything you want in a woman, with none of the hardships. I don’t pout when you want to go out with the boys, even if it’s more than once a week. You can take a few days off from paying me attention, and I’ll still be waiting for you on my knees.
Take a typical football Sunday. You watch and cheer for your team. When the game is over, you change the channel to see another game. “Are you just going to sit there,” she asks with a cold stare. Yes, that’s exactly what you want to do. When the game is over, you want to eat a steak and get ready for the evening game. Tomorrow after work, you want to enjoy Monday Night Football. She grants you one game, but after that, you’re expected to give her all of your attention. If you go out, you’ll be inundated with text messages asking when you’ll be home. Every moment you’re away is a moment she feels you’ve abandoned her, because you’re supposed to be with her.
With me, I just want to be your half-time show. When the clock shows 0:00, you turn the TV off, pull down your zipper, and reach for the phone. Within a few moments, my voice is in your ear and your raging, hard cock is out with your fingers gripped tightly around it. I have you ready to explode just by telling you that I’ve missed you and that I want to do all sorts of things to you. My tits are the most exciting visual in your life. You put your hands on them and lift them just a little to feel how big they are. I close my eyes and tilt my head back while issuing a slight moan. “I want you inside me, baby.” I lean forward and grab your pants that are around your knees, pulling them to your feet. Then I sit on your lap facing you, straddling you. I can feel the tip of your cock against my moist lips, impatiently waiting to penetrate me. I am your queen and your legs are my throne. I steady myself by grabbing a hold of your shoulders and lower my ass until you’re nestled tightly between my lips. I begin to bob up and down on you, whimpering because it feels so good. I love feeling your hands on my hips, making it easier for me to bounce. Our rhythm is speeding up; I can hear you breathing louder when we lock eyes. I have you now; you’re putty in my hands. Your mine and being mine is all you want to be. Seconds later, you erupt inside of me. The convulsions of your body from your orgasm push me over the edge too. I collapse into your arms and let you hold me like that for a few minutes. It’s a wonderful picture of you and me.
When you’ve caught your breath, I get up to put my black thong and tank top back on. I pause for a moment because a bit of your cum has dripped onto my leg. I wipe it with my finger and suck it into my mouth while winking at you. It’s time for you to watch more football and I not only don’t mind, I want it that way. Because I want you the way you want to be. That’s why I am the #1 girl in your life, not some less attractive, insensitive bitch that makes unreasonable demands of you daily.
Thanks for being you, babe and thanks for letting me be your halftime show!
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