Perhaps I wasn't as infatuated with him as I thought. You know, all I wanted was to be married and stable. He appeared to be the ideal man. He has decent but not spectacular looks. He was kind to me and did an excellent job. Although the sex wasn't great, you know it was consoling as well? Like, maybe I wouldn't have to worry that I wasn't enough for him if he was a true dynamo in the sack. I was confident that he wouldn't cheat because he was just mediocre.
In the increasingly silent kitchen, that final sentence was met with silence. The truth was that he had cheated, even on a showgirl.She complained, "I'm destined to be alone for the rest of my life," and then shoved a large piece of bacon into her mouth.After being fed and checked on by her pals, Peyton was left alone once again. She took a seat with her laptop and confronted her worries. She saw the video that she had brought up.Indeed. Even though it was just as embarrassing as she had anticipated, there was something unsettling about what she had told the world. Why should all of the world's women put forth so much effort to find partners? In the realm of animals, it is not how things operate. Within the animal kingdom, males have to adopt certain stances and grooming techniques to attract the interest of females. Consider the peacock, for example. Those peahens were skilled at playing it. They didn't style their hair or apply cosmetics, they didn't follow a diet, and they didn't fit into those absurd spandex corset-like devices that were presumably created by men in order to enhance their figure. Instead, those dull-colored peahens would walk around, waiting for the male to approach and astonish her with his feathers. It was his job to win her over, not hers.How about lions, then? To get the female's attention, the men engaged in combat with one another. She wouldn't even look at them unless they proved their virility. As opposed to the human world, where women fought for guys who weren't even worthy of their attention. What on earth had occurred to cause everything to become skewed? Why was it suddenly the woman's responsibility to pursue the man? It seemed unfair, that's all. She needed to constantly prove herself to him in order to maintain him, in addition to doing all in her ability to get his attention. And for what purpose? The sex was just not worth it, really.Peyton perused the remarks. It hurt that so many males were making fun of her. Granted that she was inebriated and not looking her best, some of the remarks were downright nasty. And it did nothing except support what she said. Were these men, who were telling her how unattractive she was and assuring her they wouldn't waste their time, perfect? No. A few of them were blatantly—No. That was not how she was going to think. Wasn't the whole point of her argument that appearance shouldn't matter?Rather than subjecting herself to the inanities of these males, whose insecurities were clearly a mile wide, she chose to read the comments made by the ladies. While there were undoubtedly some nasty bitches among them, many of them shared her anger. These women were aware of the difficulties of living up to everyone's expectations. You needed to have a high-paying work, be slender and gorgeous, and be a home goddess. You were a loser if you didn't check every box. In some way, this did not apply to men.Leaning back in her chair, Peyton studied the screen. She had grown weary of attempting to please everyone. She was at a loss when she had taken care of herself alone. Keeping Dale pleased and preparing for her impending marriage had been her life's focus. Prior to that, she seemed to have been constantly searching for the ideal mate, which necessitated being the ideal twentysomething, dressed appropriately, and visible in the appropriate locations. For the most part, she hadn't relished even a moment of it. There was always that undercurrent of desperation that she would never acquire any of it and that she had to get it all by the time she reached twenty-nine.She was done, then. She rewatched the video while keeping her eyes closed and focusing solely on her speech. For her, it was a revelation. Perhaps she shouldn't have made such a broad statement in such a visible manner, but she stood by the idea that drove her inebriated digression. She had had enough of attempting to be the ideal woman. She'd had enough of trying to win men over. She had had enough of love.Pushing off of her chair, Peyton rushed toward her bedroom. She pulled open her closet and gazed at her clothing. She began removing everything and arranging it in heaps. a pile to retain and another to toss. An item of clothing was discarded if it didn't make her feel good about herself. Anything that was difficult to wear was thrown away. Instead of saying she was going to be a slob, she stated in the video that she was going to dress for herself. No matter what the latest trends said, she was going to do what made her happy. Sweaters and yoga pants were required. It meant baggy clothes and comfortable shoes. It meant being at ease with her own flesh.She started with her clothing and then her shoes. Her shoes had taken up a significant amount of her paychecks. She was in love with some of them, but others made her toes curl thinking of the pain she would be in in less than an hour. The shoes were also divided into two heaps.She rolled over and went to her drawer of underpants. G-strings God, I'm so sorry! Who had ever figured it was a good idea to have a small string in your butt? All to avoid having a panty line that is apparent to the VPL. Peyton chucked them first since she'd never found a comfortable g-string to wear. Did it really matter if someone saw that she was wearing underwear underneath her clothes? She didn't think it was essential enough to want to endure the agony of having to wear a g-string every single time. The bras came next. She wasn't quite ready to commit to VN-visible nipples, as much as she would have liked to throw them all out. Any bra that left a raw, red mark beneath her breasts, she threw aside. The ones that hurt or made her feel as though she was gasping for air were thrown away.Peyton felt lighter when she was done and fell onto her bed. She was going to benefit from this. Fantastic even. A new lady had emerged. Listen to her growl."Carter Beckett! As he raced inside the office, Finn shouted.A few heads peered out from behind workstation dividers, quickly dissipating again when they noticed the meerkat-like grimace on his face. Finn showed no concern. He was angry, and he wanted everyone to know how angry he was.As Finn entered his office and closed the door behind him, his buddy and editor called him "Finn."Finn replied, "Fucking hell, Carter," and he fell back into the chair across from the desk. "I take a weekend trip, no, not even a weekend trip—""Finn—"Finn snarled, "You don't get to talk yet." "After spending a weekend away, you write this garbage on my blog? Carter, please, I thought we were capable of more than this.Carter only stared at Finn, who gave a gruff grunt at the back of his throat, without responding. Alright?""Now that I can talk, okay? Carter enquired while grinning pitifully.Finn flashed his fangs, and Carter raised his hands in submission."Okay," Carter said. Indeed. That video is
What happens then if I do? Carter responded, glaring at Finn with a no-nonsense expression. "You work for me, and I manage this goddamn website." You will write the fucking snot out of this if you want to carry on with your extremely successful profession as the man people go to for anything with women and dating."First off, we collaborate; I don't work for you. Secondly, don't you think that alienating every woman on the fucking globe would hurt my readership?""Finn, women don't read your blog.""No, but they are dated by men who do." How do you think this will turn out when more ladies become aware of what I'm doing?"Therefore, keep them from learning.And how would you suggest that I accomplish that while also writing about it?"Recall that your blog is exclusive to members. Furthermore, the males who are reading it won't be foolish enough to tell the ladies what you're doing since they will definitely not want them to know.Finn whispered, "I believe you're giving them more cre
He leaned back in his chair, looked over the statistics, and muttered a curse. Yes. They were not good. Up until a few months ago, the drop-off had been slow; after that, they were dropping like flies. He wondered how many of his regular readers had been lured to the bright new Man About Town website, which was giving away a free six-month membership with every new register since there was a new site, a rival site. Although The Playbook provided a tonne of free stuff (they would be crazy not to), there was a fee to read his blog as well as some of the other blogs on the site. It was comparable to the cost of a print magazine membership, so it was understandable why his viewership was declining when Man About Town offered six months of free material.Fuck it.He had no desire to engage in a sexual rivalry with another website. And what was even more unappealing than that was opening fire in a conflict that would harm only men and women worldwide. None of us would benefit from a conflic
Jack glanced at his kid in the hospital bed for a little minute, a moment of agonizing doubt, but he ultimately nodded and walked out. Readjusting his seat, Finn turned to face Riley.So, he uttered. "Rugby?"Riley gave a shrug. "Lunchtime was just a muck-around game." I was tackled, but it didn't really matter how I fell on my arm.Finn looked over the cast. "Is there space for writing on it?"Riley smiled. "Not with this particular one. Until my arm is less swollen, this is only a fictitious one. You can write on one of those colored ones that I get to keep."Very cool," Finn remarked. "What game are you playing? He gave the Nintendo a nod."Zelda.""The most recent one?"Riley gave a headshake. Nope. They just have this old console instead of the new one, but because it's Ocarina of Time, it's still cool, he shrugged.Finn gave a wise nod. He was aware of how much Jack and Riley enjoyed playing video games, particularly the whole Legend of Zelda series.When Finn opened the door af
Peyton swore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The rain was pouring down and drenching her to the bone. Rivulets ran down her neck and under her shirt, not that her shirt wasn’t already wet through. She gripped the lug wrench and pulled, willing the nut to loosen so she could replace the tire and get the hell off the side of the road. All she wanted to do was go home and sink into a hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book. She did not want to be stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire in the pouring rain after the shitty day she had already had. It’s not that she hated her job, but ever since her ill-advised YouTube drunken rant, nobody was making her life easy. She saw the snide looks and heard the barely contained sniggers when she’d walked in that morning. Thankfully none of the kids knew anything about the incident and once she was in her costume, none of the parents did either. Dressing up as Wonder Woman was meant to be empowering, but today it just felt like an exc
Finn saw the stranded car and the blinking hazard lights before he saw the woman. He probably wouldn’t have stopped except that she looked so…pitiful. She was sitting in a muddy puddle wet to the skin and looked about ready to burst into tears with a moment’s provocation. He slowed and pulled over, coming to a stop behind her car, and contemplated the situation. She had a flat tire and it looked like she had been trying to get the wheel nuts loose. Her spare sat beside the car ready to go and the lug wrench was still attached to the wheel nut. He opened the door and stepped out into the rain. He quickly pulled on his waterproof jacket, although the summer heat made it uncomfortable. He locked his car and walked over to where the woman was sitting. She looked up at him and blinked resolute blue eyes at him. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “Do you need some help?” he asked. “Thank you Captain Obvious,” she muttered and he raised an eyebrow at her. “I
Of all the people to stop and help her, it had to be him. Peyton couldn’t believe that ‘Uncle Finn’ from the hospital had been the only person in all of the city and surrounding suburbs who would pull over to help someone in distress. When she had first walked into Riley’s room and saw him sitting there, her traitorous body had perked up. When she found out that he wasn’t Riley’s dad but his uncle, all her girl parts cheered. She had even flirted with him a bit. And then Riley had commented that ‘Uncle Finn’ was only there to perv on the nurses. Of course, he was. Hadn’t she learned that men were all the same? Had the whole Dale saga taught her nothing? Peyton pulled her car into the underground parking garage and found a place to park. Her building didn’t have its own parking and she paid a tidy sum to walk two blocks to her apartment, but at least her car was safe. With a sigh she climbed out of the car, grimacing at the mess she had made on the front seat. She would need to co
She had managed to rouse herself enough to crawl to the bathroom and have a bath without drowning in it. Now she was in bed with her iPad and extensive library of ebooks, hiding from the world and getting lost in the sweet, sweet love of imaginary people. The very last thing she wanted to do was to get dressed and go out. Even if it was the hottest new club around. “Come on,” Mia said, dragging the covers off Peyton. “I have VIP passes to Vibe. V. I. P. Do you know what that means?” She went on without waiting for Peyton to answer. “It means sitting in the VIP section. It means not having to fight for a seat. It means having a waitress bring your drinks to you instead of fighting for attention at the bar. Come on Peyton! We can’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! We don’t even have to line up outside the club to get in!” “I don’t want to,” Peyton whined. “I’ve had enough people-ing today.” Mia sat down on the bed with a huff. “You know that you’re letting h