I’ve written about her before – about my thoughts, my fantasies, which, if carried forward into action, would be inappropriate.
She’s tall. Ish. Slender. Fit. Super-smart, super-curious, very vulnerable. Anxious, needy, hungry.
Our relationship precludes, at least for the time being, my advancing from thought to action, from fantasy to reality.
For now, at least, I’m stuck in the realm of fantasy.
Here are a few things I would like for her to do (for me):
- Wash more often, and use deodorant. I have nothing against a musky, human scent. I like it. Generally speaking, I would prefer a woman to smell like she’s been out in the world, rather than like she’s just stepped out of the shower. But she shouldn’t smell as if showers are unfamiliar to her.
- Wear clothes that flatter her figure. She doesn’t dress to obscure it – she doesn’t wear muftis, or kaftans, or mu-mus. But super-high-waisted mom jeans and clothes bought at H&M, while not hiding, don’t flatter. Her figure is lovely – a tiny waist, real hips, a meaty ass, and full, round breasts. Artful curation of clothes would increases her appeal.
- Ask me (even more) questions. There’s something profoundly, if narcissistcally, seductive about being seen as a figure of authority. She sees me as such, uses me as such. She should do so even more.
- Make use of my housewarming gifts, and think of me as she does so. She recently moved, and in an entirely socially appropriate, and consciously innocent, way, I got her two small gifts: a bottle of rum and a set of metal straws. As I pondered the gifts, I realized I had (unconsciously) created the possibility for her to think of me as she wraps her lips around something. Over and over. As she sucks, as she ingests, as she draws into her body. I would like to be in her mind as she does this.
- Remove the structural, ethical, logistical obstacles that, currently, stand between my cock and her mouth.
She’s hard at work on #5.