You aren’t my boyfriend. It’s all very simple. Not complicated. I don’t owe you anything once your time is up. If I choose to connect with you after, that’s my business. The same goes for whatever else I do with my time. I don’t have an exclusive relationship with you.
Get over it.
It’s our party, we can love who we wantMiley Cyrus — We Can’t Stop
We can kiss who we want
We can screw who we want
Like Miley say’s It’s my mouth, I can say what I want to. And I can blow who I want to. I can fuck who I want to. However I want to. It’s no one else’s business. Period. Full stop.
If you don’t like other guys fucking me. Oh well. If you don’t like the type of guys I fuck, don’t hit me up. I can’t help it if you don’t like the colors and sizes of the other dicks I chose to pleasure. No one is forcing you to to fuck me. No one’s forcing your dick in my mouth except you. No one is forcing you to watch my videos and bitch about how much other people don’t want to see me fucking this guy or that guy. Or guys just want to see me — not me with other cocks in the picture.
If you want exclusivity, pay for it. If you can’t afford to pay for me 24/7, don’t expect me to be around 24/7. It’s not rocket science.
Most of my regulars are regular guys, and they treat me good. And when we’re together, I treat them good. If cash is tight, many have fronted me some cash, and we settle the debt in trade. No one has ever fronted me and not gotten paid back somehow. There’s a difference between fronting money and giving money. Some guys have flat out given me money without strings attached — or Red Bull or Doritos. I don’t ask for this, but I do appreciate it. Who wouldn’t? Guys have helped me with cars and living arrangements, and I appreciate that, too.
But no matter what, this doesn’t give you license to to abuse or mistreat me. Just because you give my money doesn’t mean you own me. And I am not your girlfriend—abused or otherwise.
Yes, it’s true that some guys give me shit. Not very many, but when it happened you wanna know what I do? I kick them to the curb. I’ve got a big heart, and I tend to give people second (and third) chances. But this doesn’t mean that I don’t have a limit where I say enough is enough. If you’ve worn out your welcome as some have, just move on. No amount of money is worth the trauma.
Like the abusive boyfriend, some guys insist they’ll change—but they don’t. It’s just a rash of excuses and gaslighting. Trying to say that it’s me and not them. They did nothing wrong. I misunderstood. Even if it is a misunderstanding, which it isn’t, we are obviously incompatible, so it’s time to move on.
I don’t need stalkers. No one does. Not in person, by email, text, or social media. If you want to follow me, follow me. But don’t harass me with endless messages. You’re not special.
* This is one of several posts where I have to remind a certain customer of the fact that he’s a customer. If not for payment, I would not choose to spend my time with him. If you are reading this, you aren’t my boyfriend either, but then again, you probably didn’t need this reminder.