A Slut's Point of View.



Chapter 1




Im a slut. There I said it. Its out in the open for everyone to know, but the truth is I don't really care.

I fit the profile perfectly, right down to the french manicured fingernails. My dyed platinum blond hair makes my eyes blaze blue and if I add just the right amount of brown and black eye shadow, it gives me that sultry sexy look that I use for late nights. My hour glass figure with my perfect chest and ass scream for attention. Who am I to deny the naughty animal of passion that I was so generously given. Is it right to scold the animal of passion and put it in a cage? I think not.

All guys see in me is a gorgeous face, a nice body, and a good fuck. But all I see in them is a chiseled chest, sexy face, and a nice ass. Is it so wrong to restrain from the cravings of sexual needs between two people of the opposite sex?

I practiced my sexy easy smile in front of the full length mirror in my closet.

Hmm. Something was missing. I checked my outfit. Nope. Definitely not the outfit. My black tank top corset fit so tight that my cleavage was busting out the top. It accentuated my tiny waste and showed a thin line of my perfect stomach. My black leather shorts felt like they were squeezing the life out of me, which meant they fit perfect. My gaze finally made its way down to my shiny red stilettoes. No, definitely not the outfit.

My critical eyes were directed to my hair for inspection. Each tendril of hair was curled with a slight wave that suggested hours of perfection in a salon. No, not the hair.

My frustrated gaze finally landed on my cheeks. Now that I thought about it I didn't remember putting on blush. That's right I was doing my face make up when I was interrupted by a phone call! Then I never resumed putting on the last touches of my make up, I went straight to my hair.

Finally satisfied that I spotted the flaw, I walked confidently to my bathroom.

The sharp clicking of expensive designer heels on the tile floor gave me a satisfaction that not many girls get to enjoy. I was rich, filth rich. Well I should be saying that my parents are filthy rich, but I am going to inherit it all some day seeing as Im their only child.

I sat down on the comfortable pink silk stool provided by Vera Wang and looked over the hundreds of top ranked make up brands neatly organized on my counter.

I skipped over mascara, eyeshadow, eye liner, and lip gloss until I spotted the many blush brushes the told me I had reached my destination. I decided on a medium brush and gently swiped it over the blush labeled delicate rose. I tapped the brush on the side of the counter before applying it to my prominent cheekbones. Two strokes on each cheek was all I needed to complete my look.

I gently placed the brushed in the exact place I found it in and looked up to greet the finished face.

I was absolutely stunning. No I was a super model status of gorgeous. That's better.

The smoky eye affect that so many try to achieve succeeded on my brilliant sapphire eyes. My thick dark and curly eyelashes were now Maybelline commercial ready with the added mascara to add volume and length. The perfect fluid stroke of the eye liner pencil outlined my eyes, adding contrast against my blue eyes.

My lucius lips curved into a smile. The soft caresses of my shimmery lip gloss brush added to the natural plump look of my rosy lips.

I stood up and adjusted to the added two inches that the heels gave me. I massaged my legs with sensual amber lotion and allowed a small proud smile to grow on my lips at my glowing tan legs.

I walked back to my closet walked straight to the black section of my wardrobe. My closet was half the size of my room, which was pretty big considering my room was living room sized. I had all of my clothes neatly hung into color coded sections, and with in those colored sections where smaller sections of jeans, shirts, dresses, etc. I ran my fingers along the silky smooth cashmere material of my black coats until my fingers stopped and reached for the hanger of a thigh long trench coat. I replaced the hanger and slipped the soft material over my revealing outfit.

I looked at my self one more time in the full length mirror before deciding to rate my outfit at an 8.5 out of 10.

Content with my appearance, I walked out of my lavish bedroom and down the spiral stair case to the garage.


"Im leaving."

"Have fun, but don't be out too late remember." Called the falsely caring voice of my mother from somewhere withing the gigantic mansion that my father rarely saw.