For the love of mike!

I like them sexy. Thick, luscious lips waiting to break open the passion beneath. Strong white teeth. A crooning, mellifluous voice. Titillating. Sometimes reverberating inside the soul. But that's my personal opinion. In my profession I can't afford to choose.

An inch away from those pair of cherry red lips and I swoon. I close my eyes and let go. Singing to her every tune, feeling every breath. Passion, making waves. And at the end of it all they sprain my neck. Soft, warm hands, without realising their strength. Chocking my breath an inch away from life. As if to immortalize those passionate moments.
They need to be in power. As long as I listen and hang on to every word they say things are fine. They have a way with me. They toss me around and catch me on the way down, giving me dizzy spells. But they need to have me around all the time.

I hate celebrities. Some of them hate me too. They just don't know when to stop. They go on, even after the calls of "encore" have died down with my passion.

I am popular because I am a good listener. My eyes are always wide open and ears glued to the ground. I literally evesdrop. On unfaithful husbands, and wives. Powerful people. I know their secrets. They are scared of me.

The power I have over them is amazing. What with being a humble microphone!

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