When I hear a woman referred to as a mistress, I don’t see myself. I picture a beautiful, young, educated, unattached, and unflappable woman. She’s dressed in black, sitting at a bar in an upmarket hotel, sipping a Manhattan, Cosmo, or Aperol spritz — waiting for another woman’s man.
Waiting patiently.
Waiting pays well, and if she minds, she knows better than to show it. She’s not a sugar baby. She doesn’t need to do anything or be anywhere, other than where she is. She’s not paying for a car or an apartment.
He is.
She’s a class act who knows her worth, doesn’t give anything away for free, and makes sure her lover knows it. Her job is to look good on his arm and fuck like mynx, and do both well.
It doesn’t matter how old, fat, ugly, or flaccid her lover is. All that matters is he pays the bills. If he does, she does the rest. She isn’t going to blow up his life or fall in love with him. She might have her own lover in the background, but she isn’t an escort.
I’m not sure where I get this image from, but it’s what I picture when I read the word mistress. I’m sure it comes from the movies and a time that never existed, but to me, a mistress is set apart from us mere mortals.
She’s an ephemeral spirit more so than a woman.
I’m a girlfriend
Whatever the word means or conjures up for you, I’m not a mistress. I’m a lover, certainly, but on most days, I’m a girlfriend; a GF. And in my case, a GF who happens to be married.
I’m too old, too thick, and too impatient to be anyone’s mistress.
I am more likely to show up in whatever sweater, blouse, or tee and comfy mom jeans I happened to put on that day. I might have showered and put on fresh undies, but maybe not. I’ll shower when I get there.
I might dress up on occasion, but if I’m heading straight into a fuck sesh, I won’t. Why would I?
I need to wear something that won’t look like it was balled up on the floor after it was. I need something that won’t show cum stains if we finish round one before my shirt’s off.
I’m going to bring a hairband to keep my hair out of my face, not so you can watch me suck you off. I’m going to expect that you be hard and stay hard and that your mouth sails south of the equator and stays there for long spells. You will work hard on my orgasm, and if you don’t get me there, you’ll hold me and suck my tits while I do, even as the orgasms flow for 40 minutes.
As a GF, I expect an egalitarian relationship where orgasms are concerned. The sex is for both of us, and I’ll take my share, thank you. But money? I can pay my own way but don’t. That’s not egalitarian, but a reality of a free market where married pussy is scarce. In this market, a married GF can find any BF willing to pay more — BFs should remember that.
As a GF, I also might fall in love with you, and put up with a little of your shit, if I’m so inclined — as long as you put up with mine.
So what’s the difference?
A girlfriend uses her man for sex. A mistress puts up with sex.
I’d rather be a girlfriend.
© Teresa J. Conway, 2022
