Off/On

He likes buttsex. And he's short, as in ridiculously short. Two-inches-from-my-height kind of short. And his hair. It's pale fire orange--flattering in some lights, completely unattractive in others. His shoulders are too narrow. He slouches. His neck is short and thick. I think he's small down there too from what I could tell in his sweatpants-outline. He makes sexist jokes, and I can't tell if he's actually joking or not. HE'S TOO SKINNY, AND IT'S NOT EVEN DEFINED MUSCLE-SKINNY. Unacceptable. I can do so much better. I deserve so much better.

His eyes are really blue. Blue is my favorite color. His voice is nice to listen to. Sometimes he smells pleasant. I've never been with a redhead before. He's right here, and my other boys are way over there. He's smart when he isn't being an ass. Hannah the Legs has told me he's good in bed. I'm extremely horny. I have no other options within a 100-mile radius of me. He has his smart moments. Proximity, basically. Minimal requirements, essentially. A secret desire to get back at my parents? Okay, now I'm just grabbing at straws.

Delicious tension. That's it. It's the tension. It's my favorite toy in the world.