I like to fuck. A lot. Anywhere, anyway, as long as I’m shooting my load in or on some pretty young thing I’m good. In fact, scrap that, they don’t even have to be pretty. What can I say? I’m an equal opportunities kind of guy.
I pride myself on being able to turn even the most self-respecting woman into a dirty slut. I make no apologies for my life or my behaviour. I don’t care about anyone really, certainly not women.
Except her. I care about her, which is why I pushed her away.
I suppose I’m what you would call the good girl, the sensible one. I’m that girl, the romanticist. I believe in ‘the one’, in that all-encompassing love that leaves you unable to breathe without it.
The thing is though, love is an uncontrollable animal. The heart often declares war on the mind, and even the most rational being can become completely consumed by love.
Sometimes rational is boring. It’s the taste of the wild side that makes you remember you’re alive.
The heart wants what the heart wants, even if you end up completely ruined in the process.