Serial Lover

My name is Chyna Hall and I despised how my mom raised me, seeing different men in our home almost every night. Although I felt this way, I turned out to be just like her. I couldn’t fight the temptation of seducing men I found physically attractive. Some men were innocent, flamboyant, and thuggish. But no matter the man’s background, I had to have them only once, and they always wanted more. Leaving long text messages on my cell, sending numerous emails or even leaving notes on my car windshield, they wanted more.

I consider myself a black widow, but without the actual killing. I would make mad love to men once and walk away as if I never knew them. Their existence was of no importance after that sexual encounter. Before leaving the room after sex, I would take a picture of them for my photo collection, to remember them by if I ever wanted to relive that sexual moment again with them. I really was a serial lover with no means of remorse or quitting, so I thought.