lovegame

I dream constantly, asleep or awake my eyelids flicker as I fantasize about love and games. As a former model I habitually examine my clothes to make sure I'm setting myself off to advantage...and I have a bit of a taste for the exotic and crazy, particularly in the makeup department.
I'm obsessed with beauty and art, I love to combine the two and brush the combination over my rose-tinted ideals of love and sex.

Where is the glamour in the sex you ask? I know how to toss my head and pout and I can lure most men close to me. But I let them see my aggressiveness and vanity and they back away. Where did all the good artists go?

Sex is dirty - sweat and love and dirt commingle - sex is hot - sex is glamorous in the glittering candlelight - sex is love - sex is sex. Choose a box, any box. Are you a lover?

I'm going to be okay. I look in the mirror and tilt my head and let my hair tumble down. I must make the most of my beauty whilst I still have it, no guarantee of aging gracefully.

It's dark outside and light within, I twist and turn on 300 thread count cotton sheets. I grope for my phone to check the time and it's hours yet before I can tackle the day. No missed calls, but there never are.
I turn over, seeking a cool spot in bed, and smile as I recall the last party, the last show, the last bar and I smile again as I look forward to the next one. I'd love to meet you there.

Shall we play a lovegame?