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Writer's picturecocodensmore

“I’m not a porn star,” I said. “I just like sex.”


Photo by Steve Harvey on Unsplash


June 30, 2019


Today was a pretty good day. Mostly, because I had a do over with Dash. He picked me up at about 10:00.


He asked, “What do you want to do?”


I replied, “Well, a drink and a hotel, or a hotel.”


He said, “I brought the vodka again for lemon drops.” Hotel it was then.


I found us a slightly less expensive one. Or this poor man’s love life is going to bankrupt him.


It was so easy this time. Still a bit anxious, but we talked, asked questions. Well I asked questions.


He has assumptions about me. I had to really think, and have been really thinking, about why a man would have certain assumptions about me.


A couple of times he asked about pictures and videos and toys. I told him he had all the pictures I had. I have about 12, if that, I rotate around, most of them my breasts. No videos, except some excellent karaoke. I told him I have an Hitachi Magic Wand, the only necessity any woman needs in her bedside drawer.


He remained perplexed. Like what I was saying couldn’t possibly be true. He knew I wasn’t lying. I got the sense he was plain flabbergasted; what I was saying didn’t match his assumptions.


“I’m not a porn star,” I said. “I just like sex.”

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