Men are werewolves
As an escort, I'd have dinner with an intelligent, perceptive man - ceo or something - and I'd think, no way he's a werewolf. When we end up in bed, he'll remain himself, conscious, alert.
But no; they transformed every time into an unrecognizable sex creature.
As an escort, I'd have dinner with an intelligent, perceptive man - ceo or something - and I'd think, no way he's a werewolf. When we end up in bed, he'll remain himself, conscious, alert.
But no; they transformed every time into an unrecognizable sex creature.
It was really startling for me. I thought I'd get some kind of continuity between the man and the wolf. I thought at least some men wouldn't have wolves at all. I've had sex with a lot of women, and they don't become wolves! But the men became different, felt different.
It was as if their soul left their body, like the perception and intelligence vanished, and they went from a competent suited wallstreet king to a sweaty, slightly pink body hungrily groping you, eyes half lidded, breathing heavy "baby you like that?" directly in your ear.
It's insane. And don't get me wrong - I did enjoy some werewolves - but all of them transform, and the transformations are more startling in men who have to present as a nonsexual to the public. The ones that act as though they've never thought of sex - those are radical shifts.
Being an escort has given me the werewolf eye - every politician, philanthropist, celebrity looking sane and in control, they're just a few short steps away from tit-induced mania. Inside all of them is a flushed man hammering away at a vagina like an autistic kid building legos.
Comedian masturbates in front of coworker? Philanthropist pursues aid? Politician cheats on wife? These aren't abnormal, they are par for the course; little, slightly-more-visible blips in the giant undercurrent of men's repressed sexuality, only newsworthy cause we're in denial.
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