[image-1]There are some very strange men out there. Pick the wrong one and the next thing you know, you'll be driving through Southside St. Pete, listening to your applicant tell you not to jump from the moving truck if the police get behind us. He said there was no need to worry; he'd lose them. I just needed to stay in the truck. (This made me wonder why we'd have to play chase with the police in the first place.) Maybe a it was a kinky sex game, the allure of danger he needed, in order to cum. Come to find out the pistol in his pants wasn't the only unlicensed, unregistered pistol in the truck. Now I've added questions about weapon permits, the only pistol I'm allowing is 7 inches of throbbing, pulsating, fat hard cock.
Its stories like this that makes my other girlfriend thank god she's engaged. She praises her fiance and the idea of marriage. She thinks I'm crazy and a sexual deviant for conducting my interviews. She doesn't understand my quest. The fuck buddy I can be friends with. Someone who I enjoy fucking as much as talking too, who can appreciate me for being a smart, sexual woman without getting intimidated or thinking I'm just a whore. A fun, sexy man who I can call up, have mind blowing, sheet soaking, uninhibited sex with - and then he goes home. Is that really too much to ask for? So far it has been.
[image-2]I'm not giving up though, there are lots of men out there and I seem to be able to meet them. I tell my girlfriends all the time, "there's another man just around the corner". In my case it rings true. In theirs, not so much. Maybe I'm just not as picky. I think its because my favorite part of the application process is finding the applicants in the first place. Strong, sexy men who think I'm just like the girl next store. They have no idea that I'm a connoisseur of men, always interviewing them to see if they can fill the position or just be a temporary fuck buddy for the evening.
