I used men

18+

Proud of it? Yes. They used me too.

The stench of liquor intoxicated our lungs as our mouths folded over one another, breaths mingling. The numbing of lyrics, the blur of the bass, the shadows of the crowd. The cloud of my breath grows thicker by the second. Eyes dilated, body hot. I dare say I got a taste of my pheromones.

The seduction in my gaze was enough to entice him. A wordless agreement of desire slipped from my tongue to his.

Vacating to my room, my safe space, now to be drenched in his scent. The soft thump of clothing, the uneven waltz, uncoordinated within the darkness. Soft giggles escape from me to lighten the slightly tense space.

The thrill of a new venture, the entanglement I had wished for, was coming to fruition. The fuzz of alcohol was drowning my senses; my ears buzzed at the lack of raging beats against my eardrum. The only music in the room was my voice. Soft and gentle against the push of bodies, synchronized swimming.

But I waited…

And waited…

The grand finale never came. For me.

It never does.

No one had ever sent shivers down my spine the way I did in my own privacy. The light touches that would cause my spine to bend, the soft sensuality of my toes curling against the folds of my sheets. All from the mere touch of my chest. I know how sensitive my body is, how she quivers and calls. Shudders that would have me smiling from ear to ear.

With him, I was wet. Alone, rivers flowed, dividing nations, providing nourishment to exasperated travellers.

So why be with him?

I wanted to know I’m wanted. I’m desired for my beauty, a challenge conquered. I had the confidence to call them to me like a snake charmer. Strong eye contact to draw them in, the stroke against their arm to whisper ‘come here’, riding ghostbumps across their skin, the slight bite from the inside of my lip to let you know:

I have you hooked.

Dare you notice, in your lustful state, that I had planned the razor, I had prepared the matching thong. I chose you. But by my moans, I dare believe it had crossed your mind that you had me where you wanted me.

I can’t help the curl in my lips as I command you. And you follow.

Good boy.

I always preferred to be on top. In control.

I feel pleasure, but never pleased.

It’s not my fault. And it’s not theirs either.

And they never know the difference. As long as she’s loud, as long as she acts feral, they are satisfied twice over. And the rest stays as history. Not in my books but in theirs. Not past my lips but in the ears of their friends.

It might not seem like it, but we both got something from that night.