It took until her second to last year of working on her law degree to figure out the pattern. Some women figure out their type... their fantasy... early on, but not Jennifer - she was almost as much of a mystery to herself as the men that dropped in and out of her life. She'd fucked enough nice guys to know she didn't really care for it, but she'd shared her bed with enough bad boys, boy toys, dangerous deadbeats, and men ten years older than her. All of them had been fun, but only sometimes. It was only until after a guy she'd been banging casually and cumming hard for for a few months started being nice to her that she realized she no longer had any desire to see him.
In the time before nearly anonymous hookup apps, Jennifer would have been a pariah. She was a screwed up young woman with a diagnosable sex addiction, and had even gone to a a couple meetings once, but she had just end up fucking her sponser, so she had decided not to go back and drag other people down with her. She'd accepted that she was a nymphomaniac, and as long as her friends and colleagues never found out, she could live with it. Strange men might enjoy a slender little slut with dark hair and proud B cup breasts who had no desire for them to call her back, but everyone else, they were another story.
She had no trouble getting guys to bring her back to their place, but as soon as they started to catch feelings for her after a night or two in the bedroom, she was gone. If she couldn't find anyone with a particularly entitled pick up game on Tinder, she would just go to one of the local bars around campus and drink until someone tried to take advantage of her. Those nights were usually great, nothing made her cum like a random creep using a pussy far too drunk to consent. She'd long since lost track of her body count, but it was over a hundred. Her orgasm count was much lower at 27, and tonight she was going out in search of 28.
She knew as soon as she sat down at the restaurant that this guy wasn't going to be her next lucky number. He'd talked a good game online, but in person she could immediately tell he was a good person, if a bit edgy. She briefly considered whether it would be kinder to him for her to just leave before he bought her dinner, but a quick glance at the bar and her phone showed no other good options. It was this dick or no dick, and going home without fucking for the last two days would make tommorow just awful. So She stayed, and pretended to have a good time.
She reflected that if she wasn't so broken Dan would be a good boyfriend; He was smart, handsome, clever and attentive - if he had the dick to match he'd be the perfect guy. Halfway through the night she even stopped pretending without noticing, laughing along to his jokes as he tried to pry his way through her carefully cultivated shell with wit and humor. The worst thing a guy could do, besides being a decent human being to her of course, was to be boring. Boring guys told you how funny they were, instead of just demonstrating it by making you laugh. It was like a guy telling you handsome he was but refusing to show you a picture to settle the issue, Jennifer thought.
But then, when everything was going so well as the date was winding down, and she was actually starting to look forward to getting his clothes off, Dan killed the mood entirely. They were leaving the restaurant after he had offered to drive her home, and walking towards his car when he suddenly turned to her and asked if it would be okay to kiss her. Consent was all the rage these days, but nothing made her dryer than a man who didn't just take what he wanted. The last thing she wanted was a sweet man more concerned with consent than in fucking her like a rag doll, so her kiss back to him was mechanical, but he didn't seem to notice. On the way back he finally turned to her and asked, "So what did I do to ruin the night? You really seemed to be into it, but now... Now you're just quiet."
"Does that happen to you a lot?" Jennifer said, answering his question with a question."
"Yeah, actually it does," Dan responded, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair as they drove across the nighttime streets. "How did you know?"
"Let me guess," She opined, "The silence comes right before they tell you how nice you are, and how you're a great guy.. Maybe even an occasional 'it's not you, it's me, right?"
"So are you a mind reader, or did you just hack my tinder?" he joked, glancing at her as traffic permitted.
"This is just my way of telling you that just because women say they want men to be kind and sweet and chivalrous in every book, and on every show, maybe they don't really want that from the right guy." Jennifer said, rambling a little after three drinks. "Think about it. There's a lot of ads out there telling you how great this drug or that deoderant works, but no one needs to tell you that cocaine works great or Porsche's are fast. No one needs to convince you that true things are true."
"So you're saying women don't want romance and cuddling then?" Dan asked skeptically.
"Sure they do, I think... not me, but most of them." she hesitated, trying to think of the best way to phrase it, "just not during the part where they want to fuck. Most women want romance before and kindness after.. But in between they want a little force and danger, and well... and well, danger isn't exactly your middle name."
She wasn't trying to make him mad, and normally she would never have this conversation with a guy in real life, but the dark car and the booze made it almost seem like another incel she was arguing with online, and as a broken slut, Jennifer was perfectly comfortable with those sorts of flame wars she had in between posting pictures of her tits while she looked for her type of man. But there she couldn't see their knuckles turning white as their grip on the steering wheel tightened, and she also couldn't see the speedometer slowly rising to match the frustration of her audience as her advice clashed with a lifetime of every woman in his life just telling him to be himself.
"Maybe you should slow down," She offered helpfully "Before you get..."
"Maybe you should shut the fuck up," he countered, not even looking at her. "If you let a guy buy you dinner, then you should know that telling him to stop being a bitch isn't the sort of thank you he's looking for."
"No," she agreed, an edge of cruelty in her voice. His fragile ego wasn't her problem. "It isn't. Usually they at least want their dick sucked, but you'll never know because you asked if you could kiss me instead of telling me you were going to cum down my throat."
"So that's how easy it is?" Dan asked incredulously, coming to a stop at a red light. "I tell you to deep throat me and you just do it?"
"Well, yeah, sometimes," Jennifer answered too honestly again, before hastily adding, "but not now, because I just can't see you that way now."
"Oh yeah," he asked, "and how would I fix that, with the next girl I mean, since you were clearly a waste of my time."
"Well, stop being yourself and start being a fucking man, mostly" she answered, growing increasingly annoyed by his petulant behavior. "You just need to... Ahhhh..."Jennifer moaned as he reached over, grabbed a handful of her hair, and pulled her head back.
"Listen slut, I'm sure you're trying to be helpful, but at this point I dont want to hear another fucking word until we get back to your place. Got it?" He asked it like a question, but it was the first thing he said all evening that had the aura of command to it, and it resonated with Jennifer. She still wasn't going to fuck him, but if he had done this before she had had to explain the facts of life to him and ruin the whole thing he definitely would have gotten laid a couple times before she got tired of him.
"Yes, I..." She started to answer, but he didn't give her the chance. She hadn't noticed that while he'd been pulling her hair he'd unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out, but when she started talking again, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head forward, towards his lap, forcing his 6 inch cock in her mouth just as he started driving again.
"What part of shut the fuck up don't you get, bitch?" he asked, holding her head down while she struggled briefly to escape this sudden turning of the tables. "Did your mother ever teach you that if you don't have something nice to say then suck some fucking dick instead?"