Modern life is all about combinations and permutations.
Mine is essentially awkward.
By day, I study at a London University and run around after my boyfriend, trying, like all 'good' wives, to create a nice, loving home and make the two of us happy.
By night, I dance erotically around a pole, smothered in make-up and shimmer, desperately trying to elicit my rent money from dirty old men, stag parties and city boys.
My heart races at two things - the sight of my boy, sleeping in bed when I sneak home in the early hours of the morning, and at the sight of a fat wallet, bulging at the seams with crisp 20s I wish are destined for me.
How can I love one man, yet flirt shamelessly and get my pussy out every night to complete strangers, stroking their necks and whispering filthy thoughts into their expectant ears? Where does this line between fantsy and reality blur - I either get accused of flirting with the boy's mates, or that I seem distant and " not into it" at work!!!
This can be my tonic, for at the moment the usual feelgoodstuff is shrinking. The boy and I are bitching, and my wages are spiralling downwards due to new regulations and an overheated economy.
Whats a girl to do?
No comments:
Post a Comment