DISCLAIMER See profile.
I've been called a bitch by more people than I can even recall.
And honestly, I'm okay with it. I'm more than fine with it.
Bitches are tough. And intimidating. And hard as nails.
I glance down at my fingers and make a mental note to get a manicure.
It's good to be a bitch. To scare the marshmallows and the overly cocky men into submission with just a look.
If you can quell the competition with a glance? With a well placed, 'I'll be watching you'? Half your battles are already won.
Beyond business, being a bitch can be useful when it comes to attaining pleasure.
Men are drawn to bitches. (Please! Hilary?! Madonna?! Paris?! Bitches each of them… and honestly, they all have men dropping to their knees to service them… but I digress).
Men are drawn to bitches.
Take Lindsey for instance. Beautiful, country-boy in a big-city suit, Lindsey. He was drawn to me. Every glance, every word, every fight we had was laced with desire. For me, I think it was the southern charm that he couldn't control that was so attractive. It was adorable. And it made him weak. It's good to know a man's weaknesses.
I glance in the mirror, applying a red red line of lipstick to my mouth. Rubbing my lips together I recall Wesley's fascination with me.
His fascination with me was my biggest attraction to him. He was a 'good guy', with a fissure in him the size of the Grand Canyon. I could see the chivalry, the NEED to be in control, the insecurity, all warring within him. And all I had to do was play with them; with those little factions that fought within him. So I played the hard-case -- for a while. Then I was the broken angel -- for a while. And all the time, I was the bitch. Using him to get what I wanted.
And in case you were wondering, he was quite a decent lay.
I admit I was surprised.
Turning back to look at the sleeping figure in my bed, I smile.
Gavin was also quite good in bed. Deliciously so.
I think I'm going to keep him around for a while, pain in the ass though he is at work… he apparently has… other uses.
And he's hooked now. After only two… well three now… trysts, his manner has changed, ever so slightly, in the office. He wants to win, but he doesn't want me to lose.
That can be quite useful.
Yes, I love being a bitch. I'm thinking of getting the word tattooed on my hip.