Caught Up (1)


People say all’s fair in the game of love. I agree with them. Except, I’m not in it for love. Love is not my end goal.

Seems sad? Lonely? But that’s from your perspective, not mine.
 My name is Stephanie and I’m a playgirl….for life.

 You’ll probably be wondering why I choose to be that; a player toying with men’s hearts, but I’m sure you’ll understand when I tell you my reason or you may not. Not my problem. I’m living my life to the fullest and benefitting from it.

 When I was a little girl, I often found my aunty crying. From the talk between her and my mother, another guy was at it again, not sparing her heartache. I always wondered what my aunt did wrong that made all the men she met treat her so bad. She was always good to me and everyone around her. She was caring, even more affectionate than my mother but even my mom had my dad. So what was it?


 Since I didn’t know the reason, I told myself whatever it was that my aunt did, I wouldn’t do it when it was my time: I’ll do the exact opposite.

It’s so funny that I want to laugh. I don’t do shit for the guys that are after me, I don’t encourage them, I act how I please and they still want me, even more than ever!

I think I agree with Taylor Swift on this one; boys only want love if it’s torture.

I’m not ashamed to spend their money, shey they want to buy my love, they want to conquer my heart and have me for themselves.

                        ***

So that’s my story. I love guys but you’ll never know it from the way I treat them and they always keep coming back for more.

Welcome to the Playgirls Club, where hearts are trophies and men are nothing but games.

          ***

 “It’s past time for you to go.” I shoved the dude lying on the bed beside me.
“Come on, babe. It’s-” His hand reached for his rolex wristwatch. Turning it over, he looked at the screen.

“It’s just past four. It’s almost morning.” His words were slurred and I knew he was feeling sleepy.

 I had to admit, he was good. We had been at it since we fumbled our way in from the club. But I don’t do attachments, even though I had been going out with him for almost a month. If I’m honest, I don’t know why he’s still here. Why I’m still keeping him around. I don’t keep them longer than two weeks, and that’s even too much.

Maybe I’m in a rut and you know one thing about ruts, you get comfortable with them and almost forget you have a destination in mind. It’s time for this dude to go!

“Up!” I said a bit louder.

He turned to face me, a slow smile gracing his handsome face.
“What if we go another round? What do you say?”

His hand tugged at the sheet around my chest. I swatted his hand away. Though I’m sorely tempted, I have a reputation to uphold.

I left the bed, holding the sheet to my chest and point to the exit.

“Out!”
“Fine!” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender before dragging up his boxer shorts. I watched him as he dressed.

“My accountant will contact you today concerning that project you mentioned," he said.

When he turned to look at me, he smiled as if he knew not to expect a rush of gratitude.

“When you get the call, just let me know so my driver will come and pick you.”

When I did not say anything and just kept looking at him like he was another fixture in my room, he shrugged before adding:

“Or I can leave one with you through out today. That will be better," he said as if to himself.

He came to me now, looking like the rich bad boy I met.

“Babe, you haven’t said anything.” His hand came up to my face, caressing my cheek; he was almost pouting.

I sigh, “Thank you,” I said, almost in a whisper.

The grin he gave me was like he had won…well, me already.

“I’ll miss you. A kiss for the road?” he asked, pressing his lips against mine. Because I knew I won’t see him again, atleast willingly, I took the kiss a little deeper. He was already getting lost in it when I pushed him back.

“God! You know how to make a grown man cry," he finally says, watching me, well mostly my lips.

Look your fill, you’re not getting any of me again.

I pointed to the door and he shakes his head, smiling. Then he left. After a while, I heard the main door open, then close. I dropped on my bed, not bothering about locking the door. What's the purpose of having a security man?

I looked at the bedside clock and it’s almost 5am. The girls will still be sleeping. I’ll call them as soon as I wake up, whenever that will be.
But for now- like I always say, one down, many more to go!


By Vanessa's Writings (Contributor) Courtesy: Naijastories.com




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