I set a trap. With cheese and chocolate drizzle that I lick off my fingers. I’m always oh so forward and blunt, but this time it’s different. A subtle trap to lure them in. Unspoken promises of peach-soft skin and exposed collar bones. Vivid imagination of what you’ll get as a prize. A way to make a mess of me. To violate my softness with your rough hands.
And then I wait. With patience and a hint of shy excitement. I wait some more, just to be greeted with a fact that trap has failed.
They say that women have the 6th sense. I’m not so sure about it. But I can assure you that men definitely do. They know when one’s intentions are not genuine.
– Chatty Owl has left the building –