I've heard that one so many times. It might bring a smile to my-exquisite, did you say?- face, but it won't get you in my pants.

I don't care how fat your wallet is or if your cock works like a well-oiled piston, I don't care if your muscles ripple when you work or if you have more brains than Einstein... It won't get me on my knees.

I don't want to hear you expound on your spiritual beliefs-all the sermons, goddess rap, yogic rapture and bodhisattvic rhapsodies in the world won't keep you whole in a world that's fallen apart-it doesn't turn me on when you SAY you're authentic, honest, trustworthy-DO it!

Show me who you are before you try to fuck me into believing your story. I want to know! I'm not here to play games, to be coy, to distract, briefly, blindly... I want to see, to know what you really want, who you really are.

Don't you want to know?

It might be dangerous, to go beneath the flesh, see, touch, feel more than the temptation, more than just my soft breasts, warm ass, hot core...

It might even hurt you, scare you, make you mad.

It might even drive you mad, drive you away.

But if you don't try, you'll never know.