A woman only wants a vapid life of fads & to keep men competing for her, with the euphemism of being a princess seduced by princes, only to end up in bed where she wants to talk dirty, to be fucked raw while squirting everywhere, joyfully exclaiming ''omg this never happened to me before'', succumbing to a convulsive orgasm, the highlight of her life, the legendary vaginal holy grail heard about during the regular sex gossip at the spa with her girl friends giggling in unison.
For years she dreamed it was HER TURN, yet for years she put up with subpar self-glorifying sexual partners hooked up from work, hobbies & bars, conveniently avoiding thinking her sex-based existence. She's not ready to accept it & keeps in the back of her mind a vague fantasy of merging the vaginal duality of the princess at day and whore at night: the state of a glorified Liberated Lady, all the time, where her cognitive dissonance would've no beginning & no end. No more hysteria, no more schizophrenia, pure non-duality. Diana would be proud of her enlightenment.
At this stage, women prefer to let the men do the first step, let them think they're in control & the stronger sex, as a bonus she doesn't view herself as a total slag & gets the harassment card if the orbiters are too repulsive. Men love this, falling hook, line and sinker.
youtu.be/T_lh5fR4DMAWilly-nilly, the little minx ends up pregnant, it's what happen after years of bending over. She debates for a few days whether to keep it, whether to tell whoever she thinks fertilized her these last few weeks.
She fancies playing the helicopter mom, feeling like protecting & providing for a tiny kid, taking it in her arms & feel the heartbeats; exactly what men dream of doing to women.
Women love their kids, remain faithful to them. Women never love men & aren't faithful to men. They don't even need to anyway. Women practice love like a banker at JPMorgan performing a cost-benefit analysis.
