It's weird to realise I really live a secret life. I mean, not too secret. Anyone who wants to know can see the clues as to what I'm into. What it is that I want.
However, I don't share my whole self with most people, anymore. At work I'm the young, unprofessional supervisor. At home I'm the lazy wife. But elsewhere... I'm the slut. The girl who idolizes the women that society turns their noses up at with a accusation that "SHE isn't sexy... she's just skanky." Yeah, well, she may be skanky but she's getting thoroughly fucked and taking what SHE wants.
As I was talking to.... oh... let me think of a nickname for the guy... Ving. I was talking to Ving and walking him from one store entrance to the next (a security requirement for the cashiers carrying money). I took his arm and let him escort me even as I escorted him. I flirted with him just a little and he told me how much he misses having me has his boss because I was fun. "You used to say sexy things to me!" He told me. I felt myself blush. Of course, I only said things to him with the understanding that it was off the professional record and he was free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But he's not that kind of guy.
It was the first time I had the confidence and guts to actually touch him. For a long period of time. Ving is HOT. He's definately the kind of guy who would make a very nice trophy for any woman. And it's nice that he flirts with me. I can't believe I'm anywhere near what he wants (in fact we've actually covered that I am NOT) but it's nice to know that he enjoys my company.
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