Publications
Partners
In movies it looks so easy, you know, greeting your boyfriend at the door dressed in sexy lingerie. Let me tell you, it’s not. Timing is a b*tch, but if you haven’t experienced just how big a b*tch, you might have more of an idea after reading this.
It’s mid afternoon.
Yes, I know, romantic plans take place at night with candles flickering away and Barry White on repeat, but I had no desire to wait for night time and Barry and I don’t really see eye to eye, so daytime fun it was.
For some reason it actually made me feel slutty…after all, good girls are at work or school or getting ready for Bible study and here I am, nefariously plotting and scheming. Titillating.
Looking at the thing I was about to strap myself into, I messaged him and said I’m going to need 15 extra minutes. And so it started – I huffed and puffed as I manoeuvred myself into the corset.
Damn, stockings – it might have been a good idea to put them on before the corset. After carefully pulling up the stockings…the boning of the corset slowly cutting me a new hole to breathe from, I fell down on the bed a sweating mess. Sexy, ne?
Catch my breath, retouch make up, check myself out in the mirror and wink at myself, yes, I approve.
That was the easy part.
I had no idea when he’d be showing up, it could be right away, the next fifteen minutes or maybe he was running late. That meant I would have to stand there, in my sexy pose, for what could be a very long time.
I assumed the position but it was not long before the boredom set in. I counted the blinds, counted the eggs in the tray…the amount of tiles form one wall to another. It felt like 10 minutes had gone by but when I checked it was more like three. Change of plan. I can hear the gate to the complex open so there is no reason why I can’t go sit and relax and just strike the pose when someone drives in. This could work.
As soon as my butt touched the couch the gate opened. I darted to the spot, channelled the sexy and waited…and waited. Then my mind went into what I can only describe as ADHD mode…
“Ooo this is funny. You slut, you. Stomach, stop growling, you were fed. Nice weather today. I came in like a wreeeeeecking baaaall. Miley is hot. Argh, this stupid tan line. Ow, cramp, cramp. When did I eat so many eggs? I’m thirsty. I hope no one else knocks at the door since I don’t plan on moving out of this sexy pose to check. Hahaha. Imagine the caretaker’s face…”
And so it continued.
Then, then I spotted the Iron syrup and everything went downhill from there.
“You forgot to take it this morning. Better late than never…”
Open bottle, pour into measuring spoon, misjudge where mouth is, mess half of syrup on boobs.
“ WTF did you just do? Yes, give him a passionate kiss while you taste and smell like blood, you idiot. Sticky idiot. Water. Need water.”
Rush to the tap. Wipe frantically at boobs with wet cloth. Grab a glass. Fill with water.
Someone is coming down the passage. What now?
Before I know it I’m back, waiting to greet him like planned, but apparently now with an added glass of water.
That won’t do.
I take a mouth full of water, swirl it around, aim at the sink and spit. Okay, maybe not spit…imagine one of those pretty angel fountains, yes, do that. The glass disappears behind my back and I work my personalised Blue Steel look. Sexy, ne?
Suffice it to say, it wasn’t him coming down the passage and I had a few minutes to giggle at the things we’re willing to do when it comes to love.
So now you know, this romance business is a hard one and not all that glamorous behind the scenes. But as long as you don’t take yourself too seriously, you’ll pull it off with only minor injuries but the grin on your boyfriend’s face will make you forget all about them.
Miss_Muse is a Women24 reader and blogs on Women24's blogging platform. You can read more on her blog here.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
It’s mid afternoon.
Yes, I know, romantic plans take place at night with candles flickering away and Barry White on repeat, but I had no desire to wait for night time and Barry and I don’t really see eye to eye, so daytime fun it was.
For some reason it actually made me feel slutty…after all, good girls are at work or school or getting ready for Bible study and here I am, nefariously plotting and scheming. Titillating.
Looking at the thing I was about to strap myself into, I messaged him and said I’m going to need 15 extra minutes. And so it started – I huffed and puffed as I manoeuvred myself into the corset.
Damn, stockings – it might have been a good idea to put them on before the corset. After carefully pulling up the stockings…the boning of the corset slowly cutting me a new hole to breathe from, I fell down on the bed a sweating mess. Sexy, ne?
Catch my breath, retouch make up, check myself out in the mirror and wink at myself, yes, I approve.
That was the easy part.
I had no idea when he’d be showing up, it could be right away, the next fifteen minutes or maybe he was running late. That meant I would have to stand there, in my sexy pose, for what could be a very long time.
I assumed the position but it was not long before the boredom set in. I counted the blinds, counted the eggs in the tray…the amount of tiles form one wall to another. It felt like 10 minutes had gone by but when I checked it was more like three. Change of plan. I can hear the gate to the complex open so there is no reason why I can’t go sit and relax and just strike the pose when someone drives in. This could work.
As soon as my butt touched the couch the gate opened. I darted to the spot, channelled the sexy and waited…and waited. Then my mind went into what I can only describe as ADHD mode…
“Ooo this is funny. You slut, you. Stomach, stop growling, you were fed. Nice weather today. I came in like a wreeeeeecking baaaall. Miley is hot. Argh, this stupid tan line. Ow, cramp, cramp. When did I eat so many eggs? I’m thirsty. I hope no one else knocks at the door since I don’t plan on moving out of this sexy pose to check. Hahaha. Imagine the caretaker’s face…”
And so it continued.
Then, then I spotted the Iron syrup and everything went downhill from there.
“You forgot to take it this morning. Better late than never…”
Open bottle, pour into measuring spoon, misjudge where mouth is, mess half of syrup on boobs.
“ WTF did you just do? Yes, give him a passionate kiss while you taste and smell like blood, you idiot. Sticky idiot. Water. Need water.”
Rush to the tap. Wipe frantically at boobs with wet cloth. Grab a glass. Fill with water.
Someone is coming down the passage. What now?
Before I know it I’m back, waiting to greet him like planned, but apparently now with an added glass of water.
That won’t do.
I take a mouth full of water, swirl it around, aim at the sink and spit. Okay, maybe not spit…imagine one of those pretty angel fountains, yes, do that. The glass disappears behind my back and I work my personalised Blue Steel look. Sexy, ne?
Suffice it to say, it wasn’t him coming down the passage and I had a few minutes to giggle at the things we’re willing to do when it comes to love.
So now you know, this romance business is a hard one and not all that glamorous behind the scenes. But as long as you don’t take yourself too seriously, you’ll pull it off with only minor injuries but the grin on your boyfriend’s face will make you forget all about them.
Miss_Muse is a Women24 reader and blogs on Women24's blogging platform. You can read more on her blog here.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
