AllFreeNovel
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A filthy mouth, and I don’t mean bad hygiene. He shouId know when to call me a dirty little slut and when he shouldn’t.
KNOWS WHERE THE CLIT IS AND WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!!!
Okay, so maybe my list is describing the rarest of men, but I don’t think it’s that much to ask for, right? Sure, I might find a guy who has a few of those qualities, but what’s the likelihood that I’ll find one who has them all? It’s not possible. Besides, if sheer luck happens to see one fall willingly into my lap, there’s no way I’ll be able to hold on to him. Now, a girl like Becs, she could. But me and my lack of . . . everything? There’s no hope for me.
It’s time to face the music. Mystery Vixen man has ruined me.
Disappointment floods through me as I continue swiping through my Tinder options. They’re really not looking good, and honestly, the few who might have just a little potential have been skipped past too because deep down, I know it’s pointless.
But that fucking itch that needs to be scratched! I can’t live like this! I need to be thoroughly fucked by something that isn’t battery operated.
Damn it!
I can’t take it anymore.
Swiping through the Tinder options, I demand myself to stop on the next guy who shows just a fraction of potential and open his profile.
Colton Firebird.
My lips twist with distaste. There’s no way that’s his real last name, but he’s also kinda cute. Dark hair and a sharp, chiseled jaw, and with that cocky smirk, he looks like he eats, sleeps, and breathes pussy. His profile says that he’s six-four, but also specifically states that he’s only looking for a booty call. He’s not looking for a girlfriend or anyone who won’t be able to say goodbye at the end of the night.
Maybe this is what I need. I’m definitely not looking for a relationship with this guy, but he might be able to tick off at least four or more of the requirements on the checklist, so it wouldn’t be a complete fail . . . right?
Shit.
Then without giving myself a second longer to think about it, I swipe right on Colton Fakelastname, and the moment I do, my stomach sinks with nerves. I can’t do this. What if I was only able to be physical with the mystery Vixen man because it was pitch-black in that room? I’ve never had the courage to sleep with a man before that, so what if there’s something fundamentally wrong with me? What if, in a real-life setting, I don’t actually have the guts to welcome someone into my bed?
My nerves quickly turn into a full-blown panic when my phone chimes with a notification, and my gaze snaps to the screen, finding that Colton has matched with me.
Well, shit.
Now what?
Almost immediately, a new message appears in my Tinder chat, and I open the notification.
Colton - Your cute
I let out a sigh. He’s forward, I like that, but he clearly doesn’t know the difference betweenyourandyou’re. Though, it’s not as though I’d be meeting up with him to discuss his knowledge of the English language.
Aspen - You’re not so bad yourself.
Colton - It’s your**
The fuck? Is this guy for real?
Aspen - It’s really not.
Colton - HAHAHA I’m just fucking with you. Needed to see if you could take a joke. You can tell a lot about a girl by how she responds to this shit.
Colton - You’re profile says your close and your 22. I’m assuming that means your at the college? A senior maybe?
I scoff, reading over his message, shaking my head at the blatant incorrect uses of your and you’re again, but now I really don’t know if he’s actually screwing with me, or if he was trying to play it off that he was. Either way, it’s not exactly a turn-on. Buuuuut, maybe I’m being too judgmental.
