ow did I get here? I am lost in a place where someone like me should never be. I am in the land of the other woman. The inhabitants of this domain, as my girlfriends and I perceive it, are uneducated "hood rats" with low self-esteem – playthings for married men. “They” are body parts, deliverers of mind blowing oral sex and equestrians in the art of riding. “They” have nothing to offer a man except their bodies. “They” aren't the type of women men are seen with in public places. Nor are “They” the type men take home to momma or big ma. "They" are those rump-shaking girls you see in rap videos – video whores adorned with weaves that reach the small of their backs. “They” are the kind of women that men hover over in dark, smoke-filled night clubs - scantily clad, moral-less creatures of the night, “They” are flesh, and lust, and appeal to the carnal hunger men possess and yearn for, and these same men pretend, in their perfect world not to know them if they see them on a Sunday afternoon in church.
I thought "They" were a lot of things, but I never thought "They" would be Me.
But here I am; his woman; his mistress; his night-time concubine and obsessed succubus. The potential home wrecker, the enabler, the whore, and I can't seem to pry myself loose from him. He has a hold on me now; mind, body and soul; and I can't let go. Occupying my veins, I am like a crack addict, totally addicted and always looking for the next time I can score. Hopefully, he’ll find the will and can let go for both of our sakes. For I have neither the Will nor the Strength.
Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself. Although it really doesn't matter what my name is because I realize now I could be any woman, given the right set of circumstances. Every woman out there who says she would not mess around with a married man, needs to know that I said those very same words myself. It’s conveniently easier said than done.
But for all practical purposes, I am Kahla, the total package. Well built, well raised, well educated, well groomed, well respected, well rounded, well-thy and any other adjective you can imagine beginning with well.
Clifton and Sandra Thompson accomplished their goal. They raised their only child, Kahla Marie Thompson, to be a pinnacle of success. I have done what most children strive to do to make their parents proud. I have shown them that all of their struggling to put me through high school and college paid off.
copyright (c) 2010 • Lorraine Elzia
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ow did I get here? I am lost in a place where someone like me should never be. I am in the land of the other woman. The inhabitants of this domain, as my girlfriends and I perceive it, are uneducated "hood rats" with low self-esteem – playthings for married men. “They” are body parts, deliverers of mind blowing oral sex and equestrians in the art of riding. “They” have nothing to offer a man except their bodies. “They” aren't the type of women men are seen with in public places. Nor are “They” the type men take home to momma or big ma. "They" are those rump-shaking girls you see in rap videos – video whores adorned with weaves that reach the small of their backs. “They” are the kind of women that men hover over in dark, smoke-filled night clubs - scantily clad, moral-less creatures of the night, “They” are flesh, and lust, and appeal to the carnal hunger men possess and yearn for, and these same men pretend, in their perfect world not to know them if they see them on a Sunday afternoon in church.