Stella_Omega
No Gentleman
- Joined
- Jul 14, 2005
- Posts
- 39,700
Someone asked about being sharp dressed, and polite-- over in the fetish forum.
I want to knock on my date's door, knowing I look fabulous in my black slimline slacks, cream shirt and grey vintage Pierre Cardin single-vent jacket, that my dark-green tie is perfectly tied and set exactly right at my collarbone. I want my girl to take my arm and hug me close so as to steady herself on her teetering patent heels while we go down the steps to the street, and I want to see her set herself into the passenger's seat butt-first, swinging those bombshell legs of hers around while I wait to close the door after her.
I want to walk into the restaurant with my hand on the small of her back while heads turn to see this beautiful lady that's with me. I want to pull her chair out for her, help her slide it in as she seats herself.
I want to confer with her on what she'd like to eat, and order it for her while she nods approvingly. I want to order the wine, and pass it to her to taste.
I want to stand when she gets up to powder her nose, and stand again when she comes back. And, as I come around to pull her chair out for her, I want her to look down at me (because in those heels she'd be two inches taller than me) and say in a voice full of promise;
"You, Stella, are a Very... Bad... Man."
That's what I want.
I want to knock on my date's door, knowing I look fabulous in my black slimline slacks, cream shirt and grey vintage Pierre Cardin single-vent jacket, that my dark-green tie is perfectly tied and set exactly right at my collarbone. I want my girl to take my arm and hug me close so as to steady herself on her teetering patent heels while we go down the steps to the street, and I want to see her set herself into the passenger's seat butt-first, swinging those bombshell legs of hers around while I wait to close the door after her.
I want to walk into the restaurant with my hand on the small of her back while heads turn to see this beautiful lady that's with me. I want to pull her chair out for her, help her slide it in as she seats herself.
I want to confer with her on what she'd like to eat, and order it for her while she nods approvingly. I want to order the wine, and pass it to her to taste.
I want to stand when she gets up to powder her nose, and stand again when she comes back. And, as I come around to pull her chair out for her, I want her to look down at me (because in those heels she'd be two inches taller than me) and say in a voice full of promise;
"You, Stella, are a Very... Bad... Man."
That's what I want.
