Affairs

Face book is a brilliant idea of connecting people. It is addictive, and you're never the same after your first logon. Sometimes it's a good giggle, sometimes a good laugh or an outrageous scream as I look at photos with my 80's hairstyle, which, was still very pretty may I add, pretty for the decade it was in. Looking at the "about me" sections are also funny sometimes. Some people blow up their nothingness to big nothingness. They become experts in this and that. And it doesn't take one university, just a face book logon. So cool. But just when I think I've become a seasoned old gal, one photograph has stopped me in my tracks. An old face which reminds me of an affair I'd clean forgotten. It reminds me of the bitch I had in me, the bitch which was then working overtime. Somehow I didn't think so then. And it's taken Face book to make me think so now. Oh dear, the affairs. And what's even more puzzling, I remember the faces swear that they would never again return to the wife. They wouldn't have had I stayed. But I didn't. The minute they left the wife they somehow looked bland, uninteresting, unexciting. I'm a queen bee, and wasn't about to become a worker one. It is the phase called, let's-see-how-powerful-I-was as in being the mistress who was also a bitch. Should I pity them now? I do, but I shouldn't. Because now their Face book is splashed with photographs which are called 'My Family', where there is the inevitable tag called, 'my wife'. They also state that they are married. Because of course they went back to the hive. It's one big laughing stock, all the more so when I remember the promises, the statements of love. I never once asked them to leave the wife. Because I didn't want them to leave the wife. I wanted the mistress title, and I wasn't about to be the type of forever waiting mistress. No, it was just pretty exciting. I like to think of it as research, it was through this research that I discovered how powerful is a lame hand job. If a man decides to leave his family for a hand job, then it's his decision. And when you're in dire straits, then there are a variety of acts progressing from the hand job which will secure whatever you want, in my case, the forbidden, disallowed feeling of an affair. Affairs are not about love, the minute love is in, then it stops being an affair. And affairs are not of long duration, otherwise, they again stop being an affair. It's easy, you just have to behave like a man, that's all. And what is unfair although of no bother to me, it's the mistress which always is the baddie. No problem, I never had had any fun being a goody before. Suddenly the world was at my feet, and it was my world and I was going to do whatever felt good. It's a lame excuse to blame a man's roving eye on another woman who becomes a mistress. Mistresses do not force married men to do anything. They just look at them, smile at them dangerously, and they're in the bag. But we certainly don't lure them away by threats of beheading this and that. It's all in the head. We do not even text them with messages of love. That's the man's job. We just want fun, just as they want. If they end up in love and in lust, then it's their fault. Because really, they usually were men 20 or 30 years my senior, so they should have known better. But there almost always is a same reason. At 20, we're pretty, voluptuous, and also have a brain. The men think they're in control because we're so young and helpless so they think they are in control of their wife, themselves and us. In reality, we're the ones in control, we're controlling the men, the wives, themselves, us. It's a big circus where us girls know how to turn ravishing tricks to perfection. And I can understand why a man, suddenly mistressless goes back to his wife. What I will never understand is how and why there is the wife with open arms, waiting for her man who will never be the same again. I have been a mistress. But never will I be the wife who will take her husband back after he's been doing the dirty on some young 20 year old. Because I'm still the queen bee.