Oh, you wanna know why I fuck ’em and rotate ’em every three months? Well, because in my experience, it takes about three months before a mofo starts trying to check for you like he’s your damn man, or before he starts getting too damn comfortable and starts expecting shit from you, or thinking you want something from him, or before he starts trying to move his ass up in here. Sorry, boo-boo, I’m not having that shit under any circumstances. I don’t care how good he digs my back out. A man is only good for three things: Fucking, fucking, and more fucking! Other than a stiff dick, there’s nothing he can offer me. At least I’m honest about that, and I let them all know from jump what the deal is. He doesn’t have to worry about me trying to get him to pay my bills, or keep my hair and nails done. I’m more than capable of doing those things for myself. And I expect him to be able to do the same for himself. No, you can’t get a ride. No, you can’t get a hot meal. No, you can’t stay the night. No, you can’t move in. No, you can’t use my address or have your mail coming to my house. It ain’t gonna happen. I’m not running a bed and breakfast, a motel, or a damn shelter. So lick the clit, serve the dick, and be on your merry way. Sine qua non, bottom line: I want his ass out of my house before sunrise. No exceptions!

Please. Say what you want. Some dudes don’t seem to understand what the hell “no strings attached” means. Hello. It means, let’s fuck and have a good time without you trying to crowd my space, be all up in my damn face questioning me like I owe you something, or trying to keep tabs on me. Negro, get a grip!