Page 24 of Savage in the Sweets
With such different lifestyles, one might think it would be hard for us to find common ground. He owns a gym; I own a candy shop. He is mean; I am nice. He has a child; I am childless.
But there are two weaknesses that Operation Sweet Seduction can exploit: his love of sweets and his inability to stop ogling me.
At first, it was subtle. We were at the store fighting over Xena, and his eyes darted more than once to my breasts. It wasn’t a blatant stare. He was obviously embarrassed by his recalcitrant eyes, but he could hardly stop them.
They continued their roving at the beach to Mr. Tracksuit’s growing consternation. At one point, he was practically looking in the opposite direction while speaking to me. The complete opposite of Donald who can’t even manage to hide his gaze in front of his wife.
And if that wasn’t enough evidence, during the entire confrontation at his gym, his eyes were glued to my hips and abs. He was so out of sorts, he didn’t even realize he was practically drooling over me.
So, how am I going to turn this situation on its head?
In the worst way possible—that’s how.
I take a large gulp of wine, buying myself more courage.
My web browser is open to a series of sex toys ranging from small USB-powered vibrators to a robo-tongue that promises to mimic the sensations of oral sex.
It’s easy to rationalize buying a vibrator, but the whole robo-tongue deal stinks of desperation. I’d rather get intimate with a real man and not a microwave.
Perhaps that’s not the best comparison, but there’s a point I’m trying to make that works well with it.
Mr. Tracksuit deserves none of my lust, not with the way he’s treated me, and yet, he wholly occupies my mind. One moment, I’m plotting revenge, the next—I’m imagining myself bent over doggy style, getting to experience first-hand the height of his passion.
Another gulp.
Since when did vibrators become corkscrews? And do they really need to be glass? And why do some needtwoelectric motors that could power the next space mission?
Another gulp.
Google search, keyword: Might and Mind Gym.
Up pops Mr. Tracksuit’s websites with links to his old and new locations. I click: About Us, and a slew of pictures and text fills the screen that show my nemesis being Father of the Year to little Michael, who is obviously well-loved and cared for.
I pour another glass of wine.
Chug.
Colin and his son are seen fishing, riding bikes, jumping rope, petting animals—all things that make my ovaries explode.
I don’t want a vibrator. I want Colin Davers.
The realization is like a slap in the face. An offense to my pride. This is a man that spoke out against my family’s legacy in front of Wilson’s Grove school board, and here I am, not even a week later, drooling over him.
There’s a good chance he’s drooling over you too…
When did hating someone become so complicated?
I need a new plan. I’m not gonna act all nice and grovel…butmaybeOperation Sweet Seduction should be a little more forward.
And maybe it requires just the right prop.
I scan my nightstand and see just the tool I need to get my point across.
Are you really going to betray your mother and father this way? And Grandpa and Grandma Savage, who founded your legacy before you were even born.
Maybe. Honestly, with my level of horniness and the twelve-pack on this man, it’s hard to say where this is going to lead
But at this point, I fully intend to take his two salacious secrets: his love of sweets and appreciation of my female form, and use them to my advantage.
