I'm just not that much of a lecher
2003-05-03 - 2:16 a.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
So it happened today. DeSade is right, virtue doesn't go unpunished. The deskgirl at the gym asked me out today. I've been nice to her over time. I always remember her name, ask how she's doing. Monday she was on the edge of tears, and I asked how she was doing. She'd had a bad day, been bitten by a dog, arguing with her parents, chewed out at work, shit on by guys, no idea what she's going to do with her life, blah blah blah. I listened. At the end of it all, I felt bad for her, gave her a hug. Thought nothing of it. Then she started going on this, "I'm gonna' pay you back" thing. No, please don't. "Please don't. Don't worry about it," I said, thinking that would be the end of it. And today her agenda became plain. She sprung her trap and fuckin' got me, good. I didn't see it coming. "Hey Arg," she said slyly, "You have to let me know when you have some time so I can take you out to dinner and pay you back." Noooooooooooo. Wait, free dinner. Noooooooooooo. When there is no chemistry, there is no chemistry. Premeditated. Practised. I noticed she got off the phone early to make sure she was at the desk to ask me this very thing, before I could scoot out the door and be none the wiser to her machinations. I noticed all of this, but didn't see it coming. Fuck. Bemused, and non-plussed I said, "Okay," I could show some sac, and just say 'no can do, agenda-haver, I was just being nice'. Or I could actually go through with it, be a decent fucker. I just don't see that happening however, despite my cock's insistence. Bastard, you just don't know what's good for me sometimes. I would totally come home after that sexual experience and take a hot, hot shower. ('cleeeeaaaan...cleeeaaannnn....I need to be cleaaaannnnn'. Scrubscrubscrub.) One of those stupid sheepish looks at myself in the mirror that says, 'what the fuck?' with a wry shrug and a laugh. Then again, I could simply become That Guy. That Guy Who Fucks Anything That Comes His Way. At least I'd stay busy. Well, something's gotta' be done. And then there's this. I had hoped to make it to levels 5 or 6. But I gotta' be me. The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell! Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
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