They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I’ve always found that beauty is really about who holds the room. Making most men more then able to become cheaters. So enjoy this cheating phone sex blog.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror before heading out tonight—my curls were bouncing perfectly, framing my face, and my skin looked like it had been kissed by a permanent summer sun. I’m small, sure, but there’s an elegance to being petite; it makes people want to lean in, to protect, or—if they’re lucky—to worship. I adjusted the strap of my dress, caught my reflection, and smiled. I know exactly what I’m doing.
Tonight was the annual gallery gala, the kind of event where networking is just a polite word for social climbing. My best friend, Chloe, had been raving about her new boyfriend for weeks. She spent the entire ride over detailing his “intellectual charm” and his “incredible career.” I listened, nodding in all the right places, but as soon as we crossed the threshold of the gallery, I knew he was never going to be her boyfriend for much longer.
It’s almost a instinctual reflex, really. I don’t go out looking for trouble, but I do go out looking for the brightest light in the room, and I refuse to stand in anyone’s shadow. When we finally found him standing by the bar, I didn’t hesitate. I drifted over, let my hand brush his arm, and offered him that specific, wide-eyed look that makes men feel like they are the only person in the entire world.
Chloe was still talking about the exhibit, but I had already cut the thread of her conversation. I saw his eyes glaze over as they locked onto mine; that familiar flicker of intoxication. He didn’t even realize he was stepping away from her until he was standing inches from me, his drink forgotten in his hand.
“You have such a fascinating perspective,” I whispered, tilting my head.
Chloe noticed, of course. She grew quiet, her smile tightening until it looked painful. It’s a bit mean, I suppose, but life is a stage, and I simply don’t believe in playing a supporting role. If I’m going to be in the room, I might as well be the reason everyone else is there, too.