The Powers of Passion

I wear my sexuality and sensuality as a cloak. Its a companion, and a friend. It’s something that is such a part of me that I can’t separate it from the other parts of me.

And I don’t want to.

I like that it’s hinted in the way I walk. I like how my voice trembles with seductive undertones when I need or want it to. I like the subtle power that radiates when I give some poor fool a side long glance and smile. I like that I have this power that I can call upon as needed, bring it to heel and use it.

I like that this power is dangerous.

I like that this power is challenging. Not everyone is seduced the same way.

Some people are seduced through their minds- I’m one of them. You want in my pants you get in my head first. Words are weapons, fired back and forth in a volley that preludes a wild ride. But if you hold on tight and scream as you spiral it can be a hell of a ride.

Some people are seduced by touch. A timed glance, a graze of fingers over collar bones, shoulders, thighs. Motion is what brings these people in. A hidden rhythm deep in the crevice of a more primal state. This is a dance you never want to end even though the finale is the best part.

We all play the game of seduction, whether it’s for sex, power, money, knowledge or some other sought after adventure. We all chase something. We all have that power.

I was a stripper long before I stepped on a stage. Even as an awkward teenager I understood that some things could be gained by using my words and motions. A hand trailed from hair to breast could convince a young officer I really didn’t mean to speed. In my first year of college a bit of well placed flattery coupled with a slight plea could buy me a much needed extension.

Am I a bad person? To take this power I have and bring it to heel? When it’s a power that every one truly has although some use it more than others.

I think not.