Played by the Enemy || Captain America || Book 2

Chapter 11: Ballroom Blitz

          Sex.

          About sixty two percent of songs, TV shows, movies and even books these days are about traditional sex or any subject attached to the matter. These subjects can stretch to love, flirting, pick up lines, oral sex, pregnancy, and so on and so forth. In others words, sex is one of the most preeminent affairs of the 21st century, controlling manifolds of people without them even comprehending that it does so.

          It was created long ago – in Christianity beliefs anyway – as a means to bind a woman and man who are profoundly in love with one another, in the most intimate way possible. It was also created to reproduce, and beget the madly in love couple with children of their own, as was God's wish (once again, this is the Christian belief).

          These days however, society finds themselves clouded by a lust induced haze. So many women and men view each other as objects of sex, and even those who don't, spend a lot of their time in front of the mirror as their vanity guides how they present themselves. Everyone, whether they realize it or not, are victims to seduction and sexual temptation. Those little glances you steal at the hot guy that just walked past with his mates, or the girl in the pretty but short shorts who's innocently making idle chatter with you – all those little fleeting looks and thoughts aren't as angelic as you know or realize.

          I guess that's why I've always been so fond of Steve.

          Being from the 1940's, his thoughts actually are innocent and pure. Ask a dame out, tell her she's pretty – not hot, pretty – maybe move in with her, get married, and then have sex and kids. He is someone who would have sex out of love, not as a release of frustration, a way to pass time or simply because he likes the feeling of it.

          Because he loves the woman he'd be doing it with.

          Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing unlawful or immoral in my opinion about having sex as a means of enjoyment. In fact, I've had my share or it. I wouldn't say I slept around, and I certainly never did one night stands with strangers whose names I forgot the next day, but I'm not exactly inexperienced in the matter.

          The point is though, some men and women are driven by erotic desires and lewd, smutty fantasies to the point where they nearly forget that the man or woman they're chatting up is in fact a human being; a human being with the capability to bitch slap your perverse ass should they keep their gaze glued to particular places on your body for so long that you may begin to question whether they remember where your eyes are.

          Exhibit a) Michael Romano, aka boob gazer. Some people like star gazing, or even bird gazing... but no, he seems to enjoy the more profound, delicate things in life to gaze at. Breasts.

          Maybe I should be counting myself lucky that it's not my rack and my ass.

          "And who might you be sweet heart?" He lustfully asks, his threat of the protection racket against Mark momentarily forgotten.

          I bat my eyelashes, tugging my light pink lips into a daring, audacious smile as I step away from him and emphasize the sway of my hips while I move to stand around the bar next to Mark. "Honey I'm about as sweet as dirt, but the name's Lilly."

          "Well, Lilly," he says, tongue subtly peeking out and resting on his lower lip for a couple seconds "I wouldn't suppose I could get some fries with that shake?" And here I thought my ass would be free from his vulgar desires.