I have an entirely different view regarding sexual relationships in that I firmly reject traditional fictions of love and romance altogether. Basically for me women are sexual capitalists or mercenaries where to understand female sexual nature all one has to understand is female hypergamy. Hypergamy is where all women compete amongst themselves for the top thirty percentile of men who are the most powerful, wealthiest, or influential because women are attracted to wealth, social economic mobility, and social power.
For me a woman’s vagina as a symbol of their own social power or influence within society is a lot like an ATM machine where they practically sell themselves off to the highest bidder, the sexual act between a man and woman is where either the financial transaction is accepted or not. Their sexual orifices are a lot like an ATM that you slide your credit card through to see if the sexual transaction is accepted or not. This is the basis of sexual market theory of which philosophically I am devout defender and follower of. Love or romance are idealistic camouflages that women shroud themselves in deceptively to hide their more base instinctual primitive nature and that being the act of sex itself or even sexual relationships themselves is nothing more than an economic commodity along with being an utility to be bought in market exchange.
Until more posts in this thread arrive I leave everybody with a poem written by me. I was trying to make this below into a sort of haiku.
She only loves me for my money, occupation, social influence, property, bank account, and wallet, she calls this sexual usury love or romance. I bend her over on the bed and slide a credit card between her legs, in her wet hole I make my biological deposit within financial exchange where her internal lubricant greases my ball sack on the bed. She tells me that she’ll love me no matter what but I know this is untrue upon becoming financially bankrupt.
I’m out of cash on hand where I need to go to the local ATM machine for the vaginal promise land.
Come on baby, take me to the vaginal promise land, look here, I have ample amounts of abundant cash on hand!
Am I financially solvent enough for you, here’s my yearly income statement as proof!
I see the dollar signs in her eyes and that is the only way I can get access between her thighs. I pull up a credit card key pad and hook it up to her clitoris, as I push the buttons it stimulates upon climax.
I want to slap her on the ass but she says that I must be of a very particular specific socio-economic class.
I want her to like me for just being me, but she keeps insisting how love or romance is not free proclaiming that I must pay an adequate sized fee.
Come on baby, I’m just looking for some warmth all alone here by myself, why does it always have to come down to economic individual self worth?
Upon bending her naked body and ass over the bed as I cop a feel on her breasts, she turned around to me with a smile happily, “My love is not free for it is only to rent and own with additional fees. I accept Mastercard, VISA, traveler’s checks, cash, and Bitcoin. If I should ever become impregnated by you I fully expect a diamond ring on my finger per sexual contract and with the children I will own the household as I linger.”
I felt like I was buying livestock or a stubborn mule ass as part of the sexual financial negotiations, but in the end I just wanted to get my dick wet. Having an understanding of each other holding her naked ass with both of my hands with the sexual contract in mind I was all set.
As the sexual intercourse proceeded she kept yelling moaning out upon orgasming, love me, love me! All I could think to myself is that with this hooker or prostitute overtime there will be an endless amount of additional fees.
Upon reflection of future marriage with this prostitute I am merely buying, financially completing, and purchasing the final deed of sexual property which she could end randomly at any time. Why can’t I afford her physical and mental affections on a basic dime!?