I don't know man. I'm a HUGE fan of love, I really am. In fact, I'm sort of a serial monogamist. But then, that's what made my first instance of lust so easily distinguishable from other feelings I'd had that could be filed away under "Romance." I was fifteen, working the first job I'd ever had where I had to hand someone my social security number, and wouldn't you know it? The chick working the front counter was the most finger-lickin'-good human being I'd seen up to that point. Fortunately, I was the lowly dishwasher and they kept me mostly in the back, covered in foodstuffs that made me look suspiciously like I'd just laid waste to every bovine creature on Earth, so I was pretty harmless. Still, my reputation in the community as a decent young man and a fine listener (if I only knew then what I knew now...well I'd still probably be a lot of ladies' "friend" 'cause I'm not an asshole) had followed me, and it wasn't long before some of the wait staff notice my glances at the nice gal in question and began to heckle me about my pwetty wittle feewings. Nothing stops that like telling somebody "nah, not so much. I just really want to fuck her."lilmisspotatoes said:I agree... love makes everything better.
If that's not a response spurred by lust, I don't know what is.