I sat at my receptionist's desk in my office; she was on her lunch break, so I answered the phone and prepared a To Do list for the coming week. A sales representative from a company we have never dealt with before walked off the elevator and directly to the desk in front of him. Thinking I was the receptionist, he began to introduce himself offering charm and sincerity in the same breath.

"Good afternoon, young lady," he began, obviously more than a generation younger than I, but figuring the age differential would be neutralized with a quick complement. "I'd like more than a few moments of your time."

I leaned forward to reveal just a little cleavage. "No, thank you," I said, and picked up a copy of Glamour sitting on the desk.

I ate chinese food tonight and thought about how it reminded me of sex, an hour after feeling fully satisfied, I was ready for more.

The kids used to laugh at my initials, VD, and say mean things like, "You are a social disease." I hated them for that and kept mostly to myself until I was older and discovered that I could give and receive pleasure. On my own terms. I became impervious to taunts and criticism. I knew who I was and how to get what I want. I admit now that I used my feminine charms to get men to do my bidding, but could easily feign innocence to get them to want to take care of me. In that way I could be in control.