Interesting. Listening to your cruel bullshit, your rapey jokes based on your hyper alertness to the fact that women are listening to you, is making my sexuality feel gross. I'd been reading T.S. Eliot, rubbing my necklace against my lips, imagining a warm, slick dick in its place, coating my lips with salty cum. And your falsely deep voice, your pathetic juvenile mating calls disguised by the voice of a man, is making my pussy dry up. You're turning my sexuality into something to be used against me. With nothing but your voice, your stupid words. You don't even mean them. You're trying so hard to impress the woman next to you with your warped version of masculinity that you'd say anything. And she's laughing.

The two of you are seriously harshing my sensual buzz, and I really want to grab you by the back of your head and smash your lips into the wood of the table in front of you. But that would make you interesting. And you don't deserve it. You are boring, and you'll stay that way.

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