In a perfect world, you'd get to fuck me.

I'm the obsession, the one you dream about: the snotty, big-titted girl who mocked you in high school; the spoiled-rotten sorority slut who wouldn't give a guy like you the time of day; the cockteasing bitch that makes your work life hell. You may not like me much, maybe you even hate me, but you can't scrape the image of me out of your head. Isn't it funny how hate and lust go hand in hand?

You think about me -- all the fucking time. What would it feel like to drop down on your knees and worship me? To let your tongue slide all over that perfect silky skin? What would I do if you grabbed me and ripped that skimpy little t-shirt right off my body? How would I scream if you rammed your cock up my tight little ass?

So yeah, in a perfect world, you'd get to fuck me. You'd get to bend me over and give me the hard, hot fucking I so clearly deserve. It's rough living in an imperfect world, isn't it?

There are three kinds of guys that call me.

Some grovel. The little dick boys and the strap-on addicts, the cocksuckers and the cumwhores, the cuckolds and the cbt toys. They know I'm out of their league so they come to worship me and pay for the privilege.

Others are dominant and they love a challenge. Anyone can make one of those meek, simpering girls cry and beg for mercy. But it takes a real man to break an uppity bitch like me. They want to tame me, violate me, turn me into their own personal fucktoy.

The third kind? Those are the smart and often witty men who are just tickled to find an articulate and fun girl to play with. They like me because I'm scintillating and they can handle the ever-so-slightly-oversized ego.