For the past two hours, you've been bored; and although you came to this club to have fun, to forget about the fact that you are lonely (despite being crazily rich), you still felt like you were in a desert. Earlier, you had finished a bottle of André wine, and as you ordered another one, the barman looked at you oddly. You knew what he was thinking, what he saw you as: a wanton woman. Perhaps one of those who had rich sugar daddies, had no real jobs and spent money like it was printed in their houses.

At that particular thought you let out a low chuckle. If only he knew that money wasn't your problem, you thought. And certainly you didn't need any man to give you a dime. As a matter of fact—

That was when you sighted him. He was seated at a corner of the bar, all alone, drinking a glass of Heineken. From his looks, he didn't have much money. Which was perfect, because you knew that what you wanted from men would only be given by those who didn't have enough money. It was a bit hard to do, but you knew that money—the right amount of money—would soften the edges, and make him willing to offer you his services.

With that thought in mind, you downed the last drops of your wine, dropped some excess cash for the barman and sauntered towards him. As you methodically took one cat-like step after another, you imagined yourself being a lioness—a huge, hungry lioness, with a big appetite; and him? He was the prey. Maybe an antelope, but the prey nonetheless.

He had just poured the last of his drink in the bottle into the glass, and as he raised the foamy liquid to his dark, succulent lips, you came into his view. You watched with glee as he looked hungrily at you, saw his Adam's apple bob up and down, and noticed that he took a longer time in finishing his drink.

"Hello," you said, sitting down beside him. It was probably rude to sit down without being invited to, but you were sure that he would not have minded. You almost had him in your palms.

"Hello, pretty girl," he replied, smacking his lips noisily. That irked you. You weren't sure which one irked you the more—his poor attempt at flattery or the smacking of his lips. You finally decided that it didn't matter now. You had a need that needed to be met as soon as possible.

"Hi," you began, "I've been watching you for a while now. And I must confess that I am interested in you. I want to have sex with you."

Thank God he had finished his drink before you told him that. Otherwise he could have been choked to death from the shock that was evident on his face. Although he had nothing in his mouth, somehow his saliva found its way into the wrong opening, and that led to a bout of coughing and wheezing. That was the opening you needed. You edged closer to him, patted him on the back, while calmly whispering soothing words into his ears.

Finally he gained control of himself. Then he said, "Excuse me, what did you just say?"

"I said that I want to have sex with you. Don't you want to Bleep me?"

You saw his eyes dilate. You knew what he was thinking. The others had thought the same thing too. What kind of woman is this? he must have thought. After some seconds—precious seconds—he finally nodded his head. Maybe he didn't trust his voice to deliver his agreement.

"Good, my car is outside. Let's go to my place," you said, and practically dragged him out of the club. He nearly stumbled on a man who was in his way, but at the last moment, he gained his balance and left with you.

Read more ➡
https://www.thezenpens.com/2019/12/15/men-are-the-same/

Not only the same...but united in trying to understand women,what they want and what they stand for...it ended fruitless.

Not all men are the same.

Lol. I understand.

donbachi:
Not only the same...but united in trying to understand women,what they want and what they stand for...it ended fruitless.

Of course not. But that's what is generally believed.

Smithwilliams826:
Not all men are the same.