Spin Good Carrousel, Spin

Soundtrack

I get off work late after a hellacious day training and the young blonde comes to my place. We're out of town for the day until we both have to work again.
I get off work after a tough night complete with a fight or two and I drive to the young blonde's place.
The door is unlocked and she hardly stirs when I come into her room in the dark. She moves over to make space for me but then presses up against me.
We sleep, I wake up and train because that's what I do no matter how tired I am.
She sleeps in and as I pull her door closed to leave her gorgeous hair is barely visible from beneath the comforter. We see a movie and she pulls my arm around her. It's pleasant and carefree and she don't press my buttons nor give me a hard time. 
She leaves town for some family something or other.

This girl I met with a body like a cartoon character and huge boobs joins me to watch the World Cup and we get drunk and we fool around and I drive us back to my place and she passes out and I drop her off the next day and go about my day.
She's overbearing and loud and obnoxious and I decide before I drop her off at her car that I won't see her again. She texts me five minutes after she gets out of my car. Sigh.

A girl who served me food at a local restaurant agrees to meet me for a date (art exhibit followed by a craft beer brewery) so that's looming on the horizon. She's got a cute face, deep set eyes which can look great during a blowjob, and a tiny, lithe little frame like I like time to time.

I drive to my girlfriend's place and we have sex twice and I pass the fuck out.
After the sex and before the sleep she grills me about not answering my phone the previous night. I don't really answer her question other than to say I didn't feel like talking to her.
As mad as she is, she squeezes my arm tighter and she loves me for it.
Because woman logic.
I've passed another round of deep comfort building by withdrawing my attention and affection sprinkled with some arguing and some passionate fucking as a cherry on top.
I see the numbers in the matrix and I just accept what is the truth rather than wasting emotional energy to be mad about reality.

She asks where I was the night previous and her woman radar is acutely sensitive I've noticed. She's worried because our time together dropped off significantly & very quickly and she's smart enough as a woman to know we're at the * month mark, and she deep down knows a man that looks like me is fully capable of ragging out some side girl action if given the opportunity and my new side job tells her there is a steady stream of girls meeting me & easily making conversation.
I see the future's looming conversation in my mind's eye when she inevitably catches me cheating.

I will explain the truth as only a vested womanizer can, that it wasn't anything other than some variety and something new and that it honestly meant nothing other than all it was in that moment.

I pull down the shoulder strap of her bra and shirt and her deep brown eyes stare up into mine and I take her face in my hands and fuck she is beautiful and exactly my type but too much is never enough and I don't fight the self-awareness that I'm walking the tightrope again and it's time for me to fuck a different girl if nothing more than to dull the edge on my desire for variety that rears its head less often these days but still comes around every few months.

I look back over the past * years and it's what it's always been. I'm still the same basic predator model but with sharper claws and less appetite than I once possessed.