Dear Cotton Kitty,
It's with the utmost effort that write to you this day. I wish to put to order, several things that have been causing me great distress. The most vexing of which, I shall regretfully save for last - not for the purpose of building tension and climax, but more out of procrastination and a desire to keep these thoughts far at bay for as long as I can. They are bittersweet, I assure you, and tend to leave a bad taste upon the tongue.
The least of the things I wish to address is your lack of interest in my non-tradition desires for which I think you failed to take the time needed to acquire a taste for. Yes, they are different and tend to challenge one's notion of what normal sexuality consists of, but such aversion to fearlessly exploring the mind through non-standard sexual encounter is a bit too mainstream for me. I don't like mainstream; strike one.
With regard to my sneaking into the bedroom with my drinking buddies, nude, shaven clean and covered in blue body paint with large black plastic Easter egg shells over our eyes, I can only explain this as a lack of a sense of humor on your part. We were pretending to be aliens and I thought that you would have been pleased with so many dicks at your disposal, but apparently not. Calling us dicks after I tried to explain this was not very pleasing either. Strike two.
Regarding that game of "Dominant or Submissive Sex with the Person Behind Curtain #2", I really had high hopes for you when you insisted that I be blind folded placed in a stockade before we opened the curtain, but you knew that either winning or losing was not a valid option for me given the contestant you chose to hide there. It was my understanding that you and your girlfriends were playing this game. You said nothing about Youtube and the pool guy - who I'll never be able to look at quite the same way again.
With this, I must conclude our relationship once and for all. Sadly, I actually took a liking to the pool guy after that little stint. I mean, the whole thing about being on display, out of control, bring laughed at and called names, and being made to ... well... Let's just say that I'll never be able to look at Jeff in quite the same way again.
Good bye, and good riddance.
( That was not meant as an adjective, that's my name.)