This is a fictional story told by Max J. Clayton.

I used to be the horniest dog ever. Mantras were the key.

Don’t call women bitches. 

Unless we’re having sex and she says “Fuck me like a dirty bitch.”

I’m surprised that this has happened more than once.  It’s why I still use the mantra.

Don’t say cunt in front of a woman.

Unless we’re having sex and she says “Fuck my cunt.”

Again, has happened frequently.  Keep this mantra in place. 

Don’t stare at her tits.

Unless we’re having sex, then stare all you want. 

Or, she’s my wife, then they are only tits I’m allowed to stare at.

Then I learned the art of mind sex. It’s where we talk about everything, and there is nothing taboo.

From what I gather from the hundred plus years I’ve been around, this is what puts women in the mood.  Talking to them and listening to what they say.

Why is it men are stupid?

Why is it women are stupid?

Bodies. 

We’re so enamored by the body, we forget, it’s just a meat suit, and we’re all souls with different meat suits. 

I refined my tastes.

Abby wouldn’t stand a chance with me now.

I need the intellect, or no fucking. 

From my wives, I got played the first 4 times, number 5 was the special one.  That’s when I meet her.

I’ve dreamed of how I can make a woman. Then that takes all the fun out of it.  If she was made for me, based on my parameters, fuck that noise. 

I can’t manifest a woman.

However, I’ve studied the Law of Reflection. 

Just be me, and I’ll find my mirror.