Passionate Romantic

Jess is your ****, so she should be entirely enthralled to you, both her nubile 18 year old body, and her university freshman mind. Also, because Jess and you are hoping to make a positive example for the Delta Delta freshman girls to follow, you decide Jess should act romantically and hyper-passionately 'head over heels' crazy for you.

"If you think about it, Juliet was really just a slut," Jess reacts to your decision on the morning of training with a whimsical musing.

"Huh?" You don’t get it. You were never much for literature, and although your old-fossil of an English teacher made you read Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet in high school, you were too busy getting stoned and comparing the hemlines on girls' skirts to pay much attention. "Isn’t she like the most romantic female character ever?"

Jess breaks into a conniving smile, but it is almost instantly replaced by a practiced display of rapture. She leaps up from her desk chair, her thin, redhead frame alight with sudden energy. She breaks into an almost deranged grin, gesturing excitedly towards an invisible person in the door way and putting on her new act for you.

"Oh my God, Lindsay! Lindsay! Oh my fucking God! Don’t tell me that you’ve never been in love. Seriously, love? Like big time 'I’m in trouble' and 'my heart feels like it’s chained to a boulder dragging me to the bottom of the ocean 'n I can’t escape but I love it' romantic, exhilarating TRUE love?"

Looking like she came right out of an overdramatic high school romance soap opera, Jess's green eyes are snapped wide as though wired open. Her cute little face is strained, half manically broad smile and half primal hyperactive adrenaline tension. "Lindsay, have I told you how much I love this fucking man!" Her voice is shrill, the veins in her neck are noticeably bulging... except you can’t stop looking at Jess's heaving chest, her tits popping with the raw liveliness in her entire body language. You take in the ginger's shapely thighs (she’s wearing only knee-high socks and nothing else) and you watch how her tits bounce as she springs across the floorboards and sprightly steps toward her “freshman friend “, almost like a ballerina on pointe. "Do you understand the term walking on air, Lindsay? I fucking swear on my life: I would die for him! I would fucking slit my wrists this very moment for my man!"

"Teenage girls act like this about their boy band crushes," Jess astutely remarks how this hallmark of female romance clichés more accurately reflects naïve innocence than anything else.

As you practice Jess's new sexual body language all day, you come to realize this is probably the most dynamic and complex romantic personality change, in addition to being the most basic and cliched traits. Even though a hormonal push-up bra teenager has what it takes to cycle through the variety of intense emotions for this archetype, it takes a truly impressive manipulator with near-Hollywood-worthy acting skills to pull it off as a farce.

First of all, Jess needs to be 100% cold and dismissive of other men. "This is hard for a female to control," Jess tells you as you near lunch, still wearing her knee-high socks but with her red hair now bound up in a ponytail. "If I see a stud - six pack abs, looks like he’s packing 10 inches - my instinctive reaction is to angle my tits at him and uncross my legs so he sees I’m available. Other chicks notice stuff like that, won’t fly if I'm supposedly stupid in love with someone else."

"And that’s why you also have to act like you’re happy for your friends who are getting their coochie pounded, but you can’t be too positive on their boyfriends!" You say, starting to get a picture of it all.

"Exactly," Jess licks her lips at you sensually. It looks like you’re impressing her with this complex line of deception. "We want these girls to bed upper-class 1% husbands, but we don’t want them eloping with some half faggot from their gender studies class tomorrow. Can you imagine how lame our parties and Greek life mixers would be if all of our girls went hard-core monogamous at the same time?"

A major aspect that helps you with his persona is that the Juliets, romcom Julia Roberts, and basically every single passionate romantic sweetheart has a thinly veiled Darkside. They don’t value themselves worth shit next to their man, they’re literally a **** to love. For you, this will explain why Jess tolerates your one-sided misogynistic open relationship. She’s so in love with you that she’ll do anything, even tolerating you sleeping with other girls, so long as she remains in your good graces.

Jess will spend hours chirping with the Delta Delta young'uns about how she’s worried she’s not good enough for you, needs to put on more makeup for you, needs to stay skinnier for you. It will eat at their own psyches to see someone as beautiful as Jess so enthralled, especially to someone as lackluster as yourself. The moment you walk into a room, Jess will interrupt her conversations, even with her closest of supposed friends, to come rushing into your arms, to throw herself around your neck and smother you with hot, wet kisses.

"Juliet was just a slut, she literally killed herself after opening her legs for a guy she just met." Towards the evening, as Jess is practicing looking at you smolderingly over candlelight, she circles back to her original point. "Romeo was out fucking a girl the day before he met Juliet, in the actual play. Did you know that? Anyway… This should endear you to quite a few of the freshman girls, the innocent and the unhinged especially... which is most females when they’re 18 and 19 and away from home for the first time!"

Jess stands up as those struck by lightning, tipping over her chair, the fire of the candle flickering as she brushes by it, making a beeline for you. She jumps straight into your lap, straddling you, writhing on you, openly grinding her instantly soaked snatch Into your pants. This is supposed to be at a fancy restaurant in town, but you think you’ll have her do it to you anytime you come to visit the Delta Delta girls for a party. Jess is wonton and hopeless, literal puddy in your hands.

"Oh my love, it’s you!" The dialogue is cheesy, but it’s part of the game. "Quick. Let’s go somewhere private. Anywhere. I need you. I need you to…" Nobody but you would be able to hear the words she mutters into your ear next, but all around with wish to, or wish to be the two of you.