dances with wolves

hi. um. i'm not really sure how to start this really. it's sort of an awkward situation. for the last few months, erm, couple weeks more specifically, your little princess has been biting my lips. i mean, i've been her boy on the side. funny i call myself a boy. from what i've been told i'm already more of a man than you'll ever become. yes. she's told me all about you. nothing too spectacular i must say. how self loathing you are (i dont blame you). how you conduct yourself in general and the way in which you speak of me. yeah. she gave me real specifics there. like how after you're done fucking you appologize. tell her how you're sorry and she should just leave you and go to me. that very well maybe the most pathetic thing i've ever heard. truly. and im sorry. i wanted to say no to her. i honestly did. but that.... perfect pale skin... and those, tattoos on her hip bones... kept me from being in control. i suppose it wouldn't hurt to give a little bit of detail as to her digressions. erm, progressions really. i spent nights in her bed. danced between her thighs. and held her in my arms. all for not though. why? a woman wants a man. and a girl wants a boy. make sense? i'm neither. more of a monster really. but i just thought you should know. what went on. for the most part. how she moaned and played. im sorry to say, but sorry, she strayed. and i didnt have the will. to say no. you know sometimes when she has that blank look on her face. staring off into space. and its followed with a sigh or a lowering of her eyebrows. thats me.