You act like having k**** p**** s** excludes the possibility of passionate tender l*********. It’s like sweets. Sometimes I want a double chocolate donut, sometimes I want pie or cake, and sometimes I just want a bowl of ice cream. But just because I have a favorite candy bar doesn’t mean I never switch it up. I buy like 20 different kinds of candy. Being a freak doesnt mean I’m not a genius. Being a pervert doesn’t mean I don’t respect consent. Wanting s** doesn’t make me any less romantic. You take s** way more reverently than I do. That’s too much pressure for someone like me. I just want us both to get off, with some occasional degradation mixed in. If you want me, you gotta accept the entire package. I’m a crazy s***** animal AND an intellectual, dreamer, and poet. My words can inspire or discourage. I’m basically a bard. If you want me to write you sonnets and wait on you hand and foot, there’s also gonna be some rough k**** s** to industrial music somewhere in that equation. Otherwise it’s a waste of my time. I AM the kind of dude to divorce over a dead bedroom. And if you fake it I will know, getting you off is like my primary motive in s** and I know what a real o***** looks like. You act like I’d expect you to do that kind of s*** every time. Nooo. That’s like an anniversary gift or birthday or special occasion sort if thing. I’d be perfectly happy with vanilla s** 90 percent of the time. At least half the time I’m just gonna be going down on you without expecting reciprocation.