The Lucky Guy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

The lucky guy who finds a date from hell.

A random guy received a scented email the other day, saying: Hi handsome, you're so lucky I found you. Here's my link and number. Let's hook up, so we can chat and chase each other in my private chamber. And with moji kisses and smiley faces, she seduces him to gain his purse and power. Like moths to a flame, she captures her men to place them under her spell. She is hot, I give you that, but boy, you are way too cool, not knowing she will play you for a fool.

With flattering lips and flirting eyes, she disarms men with a whisper: I am sugar, and you are spice, let's roll that lucky dice. But her sweet words will drip and stick to your soul like melted candy on a hot summer's day. The fire alarms goes off, but you keep snoozing the bell. Wake up man, it's you who will fry when her breast befalls your eye. Run baby run, lest you burn with lust, trapped in her web of dreams. Play hide and seek, for when she comes knocking, her seductive charms will sweep you off your sturdy feet.

If you be so open-minded with no lock on your door, you'll end up with no walls to protect you from her sinister invasion and mind control. Look a little longer, and sins pleasures become even stronger, for that second glance cannot be trusted. So don't hang around, guard your loins and get out of there. Shut your eyes, and play the blind man on the corner. For it's better for you to enter heaven's gates a mole than to fall into hell's fire with perfect vision. Hell is hot, but she is not, avoid her seduction and lose her number, that you may keep your precious soul in that tempting hour. Lest she eats you up and wipes her mouth, saying: I have done nothing wrong. That's the way of an adulterous witch. For a harlot is a bottomless pit, and a seductress a narrow well. She lies in wait for her victims and increases the unfaithful among men.

Listen to my wisdom, and bow your ear to my understanding. For the lips of a strange woman drips honeycomb and her mouth is smoother than oil. Look how the mighty have fallen, slain by her high heels and strange perfume. Brothels have left many wounded. They will never see the light of day again. But you, whoever you are, flee God's wrath to come, run for cover, and run for your life. For her perfume is the scent of death, and her easy love stings like scorpion's poison. Her soft touch is like dragon claws that will abort your reputation and sells it off to the highest bidder. For her ankles are chained to Hades below, that welcomes the fool that lies with her. Save yourself, cancel her invitation and exit her playground. For the price you will pay ain't dollars, pounds, or yen. Your soul is on the table, for a penny’s loaf of bread.


Submitted: February 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 shineandre. All rights reserved.

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