The Psychology Of The Player 2: The Eye

At The Club…

I stand perched on the bar,my eyes fixated on a group of targets.

A sweet seductress bird flies by.

Elegantly dressed and with a charming smile, she glides past, feeling the stares of the passers by.

I stand focused, willing her to look my way, to give me that one moment.

The eye.

For the moment I have her eye, she’s practically mine.

I sweep close, touch my hand on her waist, take the scent of her neck and walk past her.

She glares, confused at her loss. She knows from my eye and she wonders why.

I have her where I want her, I smell her desire and it is only a matter of time before she forsakes all of her power.

Let those who are sheep be there to do the chasing.

I am the player and my heart is raging.

Ready to take my strike, my body is poised, awaiting the moment I can claim my one prize.

The second eye is coming, oh so close!

Let there be sight! I’m there, almost!

She looks down at the floor, eyes slowly unveil, glancing up at me, they whisper:

“Take Me, Master”.

More?

The Psychology Of A Player

The 6 Different Male Clubbers

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