Called a friend for moral guidance today, he said I should have taken advantage of the opportunity. Even though her husband is a cop.  Bad juju, that.

Like most women, I couldn't help but just look at her, her dramatics, her flair, her dark eyes.  I was blatant, and she caught me drifting off, once, imagining what her lips would feel like on the tender parts, and the look she got was ,"Oh, yeah!".  I could just watch her.  Throughout the night, she said several times, "Don't look at me like that!  Like I'm a bad girl!"

True seductress.  She massaged my ego over and over.  I ate it up, of course.  Who doesn't want to hear good things about themselves?  I suppose the key is making it believeable.

And in the drive home, as she miraculously and scrupulously catalouged all the interactions with girls that I had in this clique I'm slowly joining.  Each and every girl who'd given me their phone number, replete with staying with the neurotic newyorker (whom Im seeing this weekend) until late at the bar the first night, peppering me with eager questions, me several times right on the edge of grabbing her by the back of the hair and laying a passionate kiss upon her lips.

Which, from there, its a short trip to other things.  I wish I knew what I know now when I was younger.  WASP upbringing by an uber-feminist mother.  What can I say.

I want to write about it in real time, maybe make a show of it, but its so ugly.  Married women hit on me more than I'd like to admit, really.  Perhaps not quite so blatantly, but its there.  And I never feel bad about it, or them, but cuckholding another man is a sad thing, in a way.  As far as being the other man, sometimes you wonder if she kisses him at night after sucking your cock, and you feel a little bit bad for the guy.

And she manuuvered all night for the moment, and in a sense, I rejected her by not acting, by not doing anything.  I want to confess my lust for her, but she has to know, unless totally bound by low self esteem.

[ed. note:  I feel bad about rejecting her]

As we walked to the cars, she argued with her friends until she got to walk right next to me, in step, head down, edging closer waiting for me to put my arm around her or make some pass, and I didn't and I felt bad, because really anytime a girl sends the signals upon getting close, of course you put your arm around her, its a friendly thing to do, but I didn't, knowing where this was headed, the fake argument with her friends, the manuvering, all of it.

And the plan was that I drove with someone else in someone else's car, but oh, no, of course not, this is where the argument hits high pitch, and I end up driving her, in her car.

Just flat out wanting her.  Fuck.

Knowing its wrong, not wanting to hurt anyone or piss anyone off, I just should have thought about it a bit longer before hand.  I could have let her friends drive off, and happily let her have her way...and then look at myself in the mirror with a sheepish look, once again, still loving myself, with a nasty refrain going in the back of my head later on, and knowing that sex is fallible and human.

Sometimes I kinda' wish guys would know how much their wives are tempted to, and actually do stray.  Maybe they'd treat them better, instead of believing the ego hype and establishing dominance over someone. 

I don't know.  Maybe I'm wrong, but my basic feel is that nothing in a relationship should be forced, ever. 

Many guys theory of dominance is of assertion and aggression.  They just dont understand.

The real truth of the matter is that its given.  Freely.  Unquesitoningly.

And you have to pay attention.  HAVE to.

That's really the secret right there.  I've had many hits about h*w t* d* this and that with a girl.  Just about everything conceivable, really.  Desperate for knowledge out there, the seventeen year olds of the world.

And its just like, FUCK man, look past yourself and pay attention to someone else.  People...love that.

In college the girls sat around with me, and I was in some sort of prick mode, just teasing and lashing out y'know, "Why do you hang out with me?  What the fuck is wrong with you?  I'm a total prick, day in. day out. yet, here you are...hanging out with me again.  What is it?"

And being girls, of course they had their answers, all an amalgam of the truth, some of it unsaid.  The best, most telling answer came from the girl I grew to love passionately, and still do in ways. 

She said, "Well, its like this:  you pay attention.  Even when you're not paying attention, you still pay more attention than most guys do when they're actually trying to pay attention."

And I took it at face value.  Years later its really dawned on me that this attribute came from my mother.  She always natters away, and forever and always she'd be in the middle of some sort of preoccupied sort of thing, talking about absolutely nothing, and would stop in the middle of it to say, "You're not paying attention to me," "yes I am" I'd say, not looking up from my reading, "Well, what was the last thing I said", "Well, you said blah blah blah blah blah".

And it created a comfort space in my head, where I can listen to anyone and pay attention effortlessly.  It does ease me a bit to be with someone and have them just talk.  And I soak it all in, forever.

I don't need it.  And if someone is reticient, its okay.  But if you're the type of person that likes to talk about themselves and their day, I'm your guy.

Anyway, I sat across the table in the bar from her, and the eye contact was so essential.  It easily progressed to the point where you know someone is looking at you, and when someone is deliberately not looking at you.

I deliberately didn't look at her once, and could feel her making a face to attract my attention.  I sensed her go into a "Hmpf!" facial expression, which in that sort of communication is almost like a shout, and I looked, and we played.

She ran her husband down all night.  She shouted twice that she has no respect for him.

Am I smitten?

No.

Thanks for listening.  I guess that's the point of all of this tonite: get it out of my head like the trash that it is.  Not good writing, no.  Just therapy.

I appreciate it when people listen.  People rarely look past themselves to listen to others anymore.  I notice this as life goes on.

If you want people to like you, its easy.  Just listen.