WhoIAm

I gazed into the mirror applying the final touches to my makeup. Leaning back, I ran my fingers through my hair and smiled at my reflection. Every stroke, every well placed line was an enhancement to the masterpiece I saw before me. Satisfied with what I saw, I stood and crossed the room to my closet.

Critiquely I moved aside rack after rack searching for the right combination of innocence and exhibitionism that would bring any man to his knees. What would it take tonight? Leather or lace?

If there's one thing I've learned over the past year, it's this. A man looks at a woman in much the same way a child views the packages that lay beneath a Christmas tree. It may be the alluring packaging that draws their attention, but it's the anticipation of discovering what lies beneath that pushes them over the edge. Let it be known that it's all for them, but make them work for the prize.

I slid on a pair of hip hugging jeans and smoothed my palms over the contours of my body. Not too tight, yet not so loose that I was lost inside the fabric. It was my intention to make them wonder, not to make them lose interest.

Leather?....Yeah...Leather tonight...

I pulled the sleeveless leather blouse with the three button closure off the rack and slid it on over my shoulders. With a little effort, I fastened it over my full breasts and smiled in satisfaction at what I saw reflected in the mirror that stood in the corner.

After nearly two hours of preparation, I was ready. Another forty five minutes later I arrived at the stadium where I stood beside you as you waited for the gates to open. The difference is, as the show ended and you drove home alone, I was being escorted to the hotel by that little guy in the corner you seemingly overlooked during your quest for backstage passes.

Here's a tip for all of you. Never become so starstruck you fail to see an opportunity when it presents itself. While you chased the departing tour bus anxious for a glimpse at your idol, I lagged behind to make conversation with the security guard you ran past.

I thought like you once. I had the fantasy of being singled out of the crowd, whisked away and partying into the late hours of the night with my favorite musicians. Let's face reality, it doesn't happen. The band members see nothing more than the hotel, the bus, and a narrow concrete pathway in and out of the stadium. I stood on the sidelines for alot of concerts observing those chosen women before I learned exactly what it took to be invited to the afterparties.

Now as you sit alone in your bedroom, replaying every pelvic thrust performed in perfect rhythm, I prepare myself for the encore. While you are hugging your pillow against your chest, it's gonna be me living out your fantasies.

I know what you think when you see me. I hear the words you mutter beneath your breath as I pass you by. Does it bother me?

No.

I'm a grown woman. I am beautiful, intelligent, and secure in my own sexuality. If you can't handle that, you have your own issues to address. They're your problems, not mine. Besides....You'd trade places with me in an instant if you were given the chance.

Come on.

Admit it.

So, why do I do this? Why do I choose this life? You really think it's the sex? Please, I can get that anywhere. Notoriety doesn't make you any better of a lover. If anything, most of the celebrities I have met leave much to be desired. Most believe your pleasure comes guaranteed with their very presence. What a joke. Twenty minutes in the back of a tour bus is hardly worth the effort it takes to prepare for one of these excursions.

Money? Hell no. This is a hobby, not a career.

So why? One word, plain and simple.

POWER.

I may never have a house in Beverly Hills or drive the fancy cars you only read about in magazines. You may never see my name in lights or find my CD on the Billboard top 10. I might never stand on a stage commanding the attention of hundreds of thousands of people. No matter how I might want it, you'll never hear my voice on radio.

No, I'll never be another Britney Spears.

I smiled as I heard the door open behind me. Feeling a pair of strong hands circle my waist, I turned to stare into the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Leaning forward, I kissed him. I pulled away, sucking slightly on his bottom lip before releasing him.

"Lay down."

Obediantly, he crawled back onto the bed, an eager smile covering his face. Seductively, I released the buttons on my blouse and allowed it to fall to the floor. I crept onto the bed with a painstaking slowness feeling his body respond beneath me. Frantically, his hands moved over my body, desperate to discover everything I had to offer.

"Unh uh uh..."

Slowly, I rose to stand above him. His eyes were drunk with desire as I slid my jeans down and kicked them off the bed. With a victorous smirk, I lowered myself to my knees and stretched out over his lean body.

....Justin Timberlake....

I may never be Britney.

But tonight I had her man.