The term "on the hook" is a crass, modern way of describing people who are under the impression that you will have sex with them at some point. The gentlemen I speak of (J and R) have been written about in brief encounter, and I suppose I like them both to an extent, just not a very great one.
R wanted pictures of me in various states of undress, with particular areas of my person on shameless display for his viewing pleasure. When he asked - nay, demanded - that I send him these pictures, I cut off communications, disgusted with his ridiculous display. After about a three week period, he was back for more. He apologised for his behaviour and asked if we could pick up where we left off? NO! I replied, my fervour so palpable you could almost taste it. He didn't give up but it set him on the back foot, reluctant and shy. The first thing he said to me was; "sorry for the way I acted, it was a bit of a dick move haha" - the Academy Award for Greatest Understatement can go straight to this clown.
J has not spoken to me for a couple of weeks (since we met up, once more, see brief encounter) but all of a sudden I was receiving snapchats in which his johnson was very pleased to see me. I shudder when I think of it. Then I was in receipt of a 5am facebook message asking what I was up to. When I actually read the message at 10am, I told him I was sleeping, naturally. He let me know that he was horny and wanted me.
So, while these two boys are comfortable in the presumed knowledge that they will get their dicks sucked by me at some point, I find it laughable that they think it's that easy. That I'm that easy. That is why I'm keeping them on the hook, because I'm a horrible piece of shit, obviously, but because they should realise that doing this whole thing is not cool - and that to try it with me is the worst decision they could have made.
I pride myself on the fact that I am socially observant, and can tell when someone's taking me for a fool. I can tell whether or not you're a cunt within five minutes of meeting you - if you're a wingman - don't even bother because I will make sure you never wingman for anyone ever again. That's why I could spot R and J's game from a mile off. They aren't campus heartthrobs beating the women away with a shitty stick - they're losers who want to think that they bear any kind of resemblance to the aforementioned heartthrobs. They have no interest in me as a person, they don't want to know what my favourite song is, or have coffee with me; they want to sneak in and out of my flat at ungodly hours, imagining themselves to be big-dicked men capable of fucking women at a moment's notice. They aren't, and they never fucking will be.
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