Hello, Would You Like to Fuck?

I came to an interesting realization tonight. It makes me part narcissist, part misogynist, part delusional perhaps, yet mostly self aware and truthful.

I’d just seen a movie with a girl I’ve been fucking for a few weeks. Post movie we’d fucked, once, for about 40 minutes. I decided I didn’t want to stay over, so excused myself saying I wanted my own bed that night. She wished me luck battling the subway system, and I kissed her good night as I headed out.

Walking onto the eerily empty 3am subway platform I noticed a girl, solid 7.5, sitting on the bench. She smiled. I sat down at the opposite end, and minding my own business wrote down a quick thought in my moleskin I had with me from an earlier class.

“What’r you writing?”

I looked up to see her talking to me, and we proceeded to make small conversation as we rode the train.

“I get off next stop, I’d love to hang out sometime, we should keep on touch”, I said.

“Sure,” she responded, “what’s your number? Last name?” After exchanging information I bid her good night as I got off the train, and it hit me.

I’m good.

Now, not the kinda good that walks into a bar and every girl wants to jump me. But the kinda good that I know as soon as I begin talking to a girl, that if she agrees to exchange information, I pretty much know that we will have sex if I want to. Barring a last minute flake on her part, or an unusual girl who clarifies on the second date that she wants something serious or is a devout Mormon, I’m pretty much vag deep without pulling down my pants.

I’m aware this sounds sick, and I’m not on the prowl like I was a few short months ago. It’s just that it’s a powerful realization to come to, that I can pretty much make sure sex happens when I want it. If I want to get laid, I can, and easily.

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