Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

I have a dirty little secret.

I like it when men look at me.

I came late to this sense that I can attract with my body, with my glance, with my walk, and, as a former ugly duckling, on the days I feel beautiful I enjoy being a swan.

It’s a novelty to me, having a figure they want to lok at, skin they want to touch, a body they want to be in, and it’s not all that often I believe they do.  Still, there are days like today, days when I feel strong, sexy, and sensual and I want to draw their eyes to me like a magnet.

I stride down the street, and I smile when their eyes slide down soft curves, linger inapprorpiateely on secret places, and then return to meet my own.

I imagine their hands, their mouths, taking a similar journey. When a beautiful boy with curly hair and golden eyes matches my grin with one of his own, I think “what if?”

What if I wait for him outside the building? What if I pull him into the alley that waits on the edge of the teeming crowd and press against him, skin to skin, tongue to tongue?  What if I take him in my hand, my mouth, my cunt? What if I swallow his cries, his lust, his body, to fill the chasm of desire that is my mind?

It’s over in an instant, but my eyes follow him as he walks away. I wonder if he’s also thinking, “what if?”