**Sycophantic Succubus

Succubus (Dungeons & Dragons)
Succubus (Dungeons & Dragons)
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If the appellation of this poem appears oxymoronic, it is only at first glance. In my heyday, I had men bowing down before me.

I learned from an early age how a twinkle in my eye, a shake of my voluminous hips, a moist tongue across luscious lips, a wink, a smile, a twist of my lochs, an added spring in my step, my voluptuous breasts bouncing as I moved could all bring a man to a standstill, knock him to his knees, make him beg for mercy.

I learned how to entice, induce, seduce. I could invoke passion towards the purchase of integrated circuitry. Calculated coquetry coerced cash from his corduroys.

Sometimes the power play was more complicated, the temptress in me subdued, my coy acquiescence, but as we coalesced and power surged in multifarious maneuvers, he was again pliable and unpretentious.

Alas, times change. I have reached a plateau in my life. Men are either no longer charmed by sex appeal or I have lost such through transmogrification from lover to mother. Men I encounter now are more swayed by public displays of intelligence and quick wit than by any amount of cleavage and department store perfume. They see red lips as a sign of desperation and short skirts as self-loathing. They prefer oral overture to felatio and discourse to disrobing.

The sycophantic succubus is displaced in a post-third-wave-feminist society.

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