The "Quick and Dirty" How-to Guide for Captivating and Enslaving Zombknee

Zombknee's Crippling Weaknesses AKA Things Zombknee Cannot Say No to

I seem to be hot for men who have a temper. They don't necessarily need to get angry at me, and it's possibly detrimental to them if they direct their anger at me, but I do seem to like guys who are prone to losing their tempers.
Guys who are really confident, really skirting the line of arrogant bastard, but just shy of that. Couple that with a few insecurities which probably force a bit of overcompensation, and I turn hot and bothered.
Guys who have a lot of natural athletic ability and who know it. Balance, bodily control, strength, they have it, they're good at their chosen sports without trying, they even like to show off a little.
Okay, I can't deal with anyone who isn't really down to earth, so that is a prerequisite.
Guys who are forceful.
Guys who are really selfish and immature. God, why are they all so selfish and so immature?
Guys who are really nice and natural and who get really caught up in the moment, so that they are incredibly in love with you when you are in front of their face, and then get distracted with other things the rest of the time. I just love that intensity of feeling. The intense need for your body, for your touch.
Guys who think it's incredibly wonderful to be petted for hours on end without being requested to reciprocate. This arrangement just works out really well.
Irish hair. I am just physically addicted. Furry chest feels so goddamn good! And, a guy with really nice forearms topped with a lusty, golden Irish coat. Fuck. It's like giving a deprived kitty catnip.
A guy who pulls my hair and likes to make me feel bad.
I am such a sucker for good sex. Dude would make fun of me for having such "specific" needs. Throw me around like I'm nothing and I won't be able to get enough no matter what else I have to deal with.
I'm pretty sure I like a guy with strong opinions. Sometimes I have pretty strong opinions. It's probably nice to agree on a lot of them, but to be able to have opinionated arguments without it getting personal is fun.
Guys who are outspoken.
A nice voice. I am such a sucker for a really nice voice. I'm not completely sure what it is but, I'm just going to say that it's a nice, comforting, reassuring, maybe even protective voice. Oh, and very warm.
I like boys who are boys. Oozing with manliness. And, it's a plus if you are secretly gay or have weird feminine quirks.
Guys who persist when I say no. Dude was telling me how when a girl says no, sometimes she really means it, but a lot of the times, it just means you have to try harder. I disturbingly found that really, really hot.
Guys who like attention. They crave it, they need it, they try to hide it.
If your favorite places to eat are really, really delicious, that's a quick and easy way to impress me.
And, there is the ubiquitous drive very carelessly but very capably. This is actually very important to me. Don't fucking drive like a little sissy boy chicken. If you see an opportunity to do something, fucking do it now and don't think about it. That's fucking hot. In fact, if you don't do that, I start to doubt my ability to endure fucking you.
I like guys who are really impatient. If you are not super impatient, then I will get really impatient while you are just sitting there all nicely and patiently.
Oh, here's a no-brainer. I like a guy who is kind of an asshole.
Men who are fearless. Men who do not hesitate.
Working class men. I just don't like the straight and narrow. Work with your hands, or do something really weird and interesting, especially if you're not making any money, and you will get my heart beating.
Guys who think they're so amazing for no reason whatsoever. They gloat and gloat about all of these really insignificant things that no one can do as good as them (like folding a t-shirt or taking really big bites of their food). Yes, they know they're being retarded, but they still think they have a valid point that they really are quite talented at fitting way too many things nicely and neatly into their luggage (oh wait, that's me...I'm really good at that...I'm also really good at removing staples and stapling it back in the exact same spot so that the old holes don't show...It's fucking uncanny).
Guys who like when I make fun of them, so when they are gloating about the retarded things that they think they can do, I can roll my eyes at them and it just goads them to gloat more.
Boys who are wreckless with their lives.
Boys who treat me like a piece of meat. Their piece of meat. I don't need to have my fucking feelings coddled. I want my body to be ravaged with no consideration for me as a human being. Hurt me, throw me around, push me, force me to do anything. Anything you want.
I like a guy who treats me like he owns me.
So, for some reason, it's really important to have really hot boxers. I especially like the CK ones. They have such manly stripes and dots and male colors. It's really fucking hot and sexy. The two guys that I've totally fell hard for have had really great boxers (actually, both have the same CK boxers). Male dress shirts, ties, and boxers are the fucking hottest things. Makes me weak in the knees.

Things that Make Zombknee Lose Her Head

Grab me by the belt loop of my pants and bring me up against you
Grab me by the ankles and drag me across your smooth, slippery, black leather back seat
Pin my arms down

Zombknee's Past Conquerers

Finace Boy (formerly Square).
Bicycle Boy.
Other Dude. Nothing about him attracted me at first. I never looked at him or paid any attention to him. I thought he was really nice and pretty awesome as a person, but not as a guy. I thought he was decent looking, but definitely not my type. Physically, he just didn't do it for me. We spent ungodly amounts of time together in various states of undress (it gets hot when you're camping/hiking), and I just would not notice really incredibly obvious things about him. I don't know. I just never saw him as a physical being or something. But, he was so cool and I loved all of the thoughts that he had, and we did so many awesome things together and we ate so much amazing food together, and we spent so much of our time together, I just couldn't help but start to think of him as something more. And, I also really liked the way he danced. I think that was a huge part of it. So, he made a move on me and regretted it, and his rejection of me drove me fucking crazy. That pretty much ruined everything. Now, I think he's kind of retarded and now that we're not living in the same city, he never really enters my thoughts, and generally I'm annoyed that he told me that he's never been closer to anyone else in his life, but he hasn't really made any effort whatsoever to keep in touch with me (probably my fault). So, now it's kind of just this weird thing that I don't quite understand which I try not to think about too much.
Doc. He embarrassed me. I couldn't bring myself to let him meet any of my friends. In fact, why the fuck was I dating a doctor?? It goes against everything I believe in. Oh, it's because he happened to master all of my most crippling weaknesses. See, he was okay when he was just talking to me. He was incredibly natural and confident. Everything that came out of his mouth was perfect. Everything he said was always exactly the best thing that could be said in that situation. Not just with me, but with random people. He rode a motorcycle which of course I would think is cool. But, it wasn't just that. He was a really good rider. Really precise at cutting corners, really good control of the bike. He was really condescending and patronizing but in a mocking, funny, respectful way (yes, I am aware that that is an oxymoron). He would make fun of me without thinking any less of me. In fact, many of the things that he made the most fun of were the things he found most endearing, which is pretty much exactly what I do. When we first fucked, I was trying to deflect his advances, until finally he reached from behind me, and pinned my arms gently to my chest and proceeded to have his way with me. I just couldn't say no to that. Also, he had the most perfect dick that I may ever encounter. Shape, size, appearance...a winner on all counts. He had incredibly good taste in food. Every place that he took me to was mouth-wateringly delicious. He was also very selfish, and alcoholic, at a certain point, was taking anti-depressants, didn't really see him all that super often, and he fucking played video games. It's those goddamn fucking weaknesses. I hate them.
White Belt Boy. Totally not my type at all. Didn't think he was one tiny bit cute. I mean, I didn't think he was ugly at all, but certainly not handsome. However, one night, he got me in his bedroom all alone. He inserted his finger in my belt look, hooked his finger round it, and pulled me up against him. Basically, I was all his after that. He was then able to fuck me to his heart's content and I just had to accept that. I didn't like him, though he was decently cool, physically, he did nothing for me. But, he was just so confident and certain about fucking me, I just could not say no. We only fucked a couple of times, but he overcame pretty insurmountable odds. Congratulations to him.
Hockey Boy. We were hanging out in the park showing off how high we could jump and how many pull-ups we could do and crap. We came across some bleacher seats and were jumping them. Without a blink of the eye, he jumped up six rows and barely made it. It looked like a pretty impossible jump. He had to pull his legs all the way up and ended up in a crouch in order to make the jump. Holy fucking hot! What a brave, brave boy. Even though he didn't seem like he could dance very well, he was actually pretty decent. Also hot. He could climb up some of the highest peaks in California without breaking a sweat. He was definitely a master of his body.
Idealist Boy.
Bigwangman. He was the most exquisite piece of meat I have ever encountered. He was God's gift to womankind. Every part of his body that it was possible to touch was rock hard and beautifully shaped. David should have been carved from this man. And, he somehow made it look natural. He had really pretty soft blonde hair and hot glasses. Everything he said and did dripped heavily with sarcasm. I fell in love with his sense of humor, but only at first. It didn't have as much depth to it as I had hoped. Eventually, we broke up because he had a cock the size of my forearm (no, I mean that literally). I loved the weight of it and the clod that it made when I let it fall from my hands and onto his thigh, but I just couldn't keep doing it.
The Ex.
Toe Cramp Guy. He is the boy that I regret the most. Everytime I tried to start something with him, my Ex would get in the way. I was so hot and cold with him because of my Ex. And, he's such a nice, decent person (not a walk all over him kind of nice, but a genuine, caring if a bit rough around the edges niceness). Basically, he had the perfect kind of niceness. Really awesome sense of humor. Was way too into music and bands and crap. But, the thing about him that ensures that I will never forget him for the rest of my life is the incredible sex that we had. There is a reason I call him Toe Cramp Guy. Every time he made me come, I got so worked up, my toes would cramp up until I couldn't move them at all. They'd stay curled up all rigid, and he would have to massage them and loosen the muscles again. We had this incredible chemistry. Everything that he liked to do and talked about doing was pretty much the hottest, sexiest thing that I could ever imagine anyone doing or saying. He was really good with his tongue. We just had really, really hot sex. God. I really, really want to fuck him at least once more before I die. I think I'm going to try to make that happen. But, I was never in a place to be in a real relationship with him whenever we were going out. So, he's one of those "I wonder if" kind of things. Oh well.
Phil.

Hearts Trampled and Eaten Alive by Zombknee

Square.
Meat Boy.
Leukemia Boy. Oh god, Leukemia Boy.
Ex Go Go Dancer.
Computer Boy.
Trucker Dude. Pretty much the only reason I dated him for so long was because he had an incredible talent for cunninglingus. I really like when guys go down on me, but I'm not like a number one fan of it. I actually prefer straight fucking. Except with him. I almost wasn't interested in fucking him. It was like something I had to deal with so that he would go down on me. I mean, he could go straight for my clit without any work up whatsoever and send me orgasming multiple times. From his nose to his throat, he was phenomenal. He was also a nice, cool guy, was into Bob Dylan, wasn't terribly stupid, and it was kind of cool going out with a trucker and taking trips in his semi and fucking in his cab. It's really roomy in those things. One of the hotter things I've done is sit on his lap while he was driving on the freeway on a rainy day and fuck him silly. That was pretty fun. He was the first guy to take me out on a really nice dinner date, make a card with artwork that took him a really long time, and very nervously ask me if I would be his girlfriend. It was actually kind of cute, if misplaced. I was pretty much just like, "uh, sure, okay." He was also the first guy I ever really talked to that wasn't upper-middle class, over-educated, and super sheltered. So, that was pretty interesting. Otherwise, he really didn't do anything for me.
Love Dove.
Zork Boy.