All Those Lies She Longed to Hear

Of course, she wanted me to tell her all those lies she longed to hear. I, though, didn’t want to lie to her. I had lied to too many women already, telling them everything they wanted to hear, so I could get what I wanted and leave them wondering what it was they'd lost.

She, though, was different. I didn't even want to ask her name, in case she told it to me. I didn't want to know anything about her in case I found some way of using it to get her to do those things I’d already had so many other women doing.

She was different.

I had thought I would never fall in love. I laughed at it, sneered at it. It was a trap for the unwary. A trap laid by the women to capture the men they wanted.

I was too clever for all that.

I took the stratagems, the tactics, the methods of the women. I took all the tricks they used against men; to trap them and to trick them. Then I used those tricks against the women, tricking them, trapping them into giving me what I wanted from them.

Such a small thing, an hour or so taken out of one of many of their days.

I could leave them with memories of something special, something unique, something they never had from any of the other men they tricked into caring for them.

I thought I was immune.

Then she came along and, without even trying, she had me trapped, pinned and imprisoned, with just one look.