Some of the most meaningful men in my life have been those I haven’t really known at all. This was especially true in the beginning, when I was first trying out in public my girlish persona. They validated me, and for that, I salute them – all those anonymous men whose lust I awakened! Which in turn awakened my slut within.
The proverbial construction workers who whistled and yelled “Hey, Baby!” Real girls sometimes complain (disingenuously?) about this kind of “unwanted” attention; for girls like me, it provides an incredible rush of badly needed self-confidence.
The timid man — tall, dark and handsome – whom I caught staring at my jean-encased butt as I stood in line for a café latte. Blushing, he quickly snapped his head away. As a man myself, I had done that cowardly maneuver too! So I sent him a lifeline by smiling and saying, “Hi!”
“Hi,” another man says as I’m strolling in a city park. It’s the first time I’m venturing out wearing such a short, snug skirt! I smile, so he follows me and stands by my side as I stop to read a historical marker. He starts talking about the history that happened here; I’m so nervous, I don’t pay attention to the content of his words. He can tell, so he says: “Don’t worry, I’m married, a faithful husband.” Turns out he’s a real estate broker and has a $500,000 house in the neighborhood that would be “perfect” for “a young career girl” like me. A rich bitch, is that what I look like? I don’t mind. Or is it all just a ploy: to take me on a tour of the empty house and then fuck me there? That, I would not have minded either!