The women who amaze me most are those who boast a body close to perfect. Then, elect to dress in less than is required to prevent my tired eyes from rising to observe the tantalising curve of well filled blouse, or arouse my baser feelings with revealing sight exposing, toes to thighs a glimpse of leg which begs my chance unhurried glance to pause, and cause reaction.
But, the action which they take to quickly make some small and fake adjustment to their dress reveals the sweet distress my eyes caress has caused.
They are aware, their choice attire has stirred desire, and yet react with tactile skill to close the split which tempted it to surface.
Iād love to **** their expectation for a thrill inducing chance to show their slow, deliberate disapproval of my supposed unwelcome glance.
Yet, just like less self conscious men I find myself ensnared again, to render satisfaction to their skilled and ancient action, to elicit a response they can wantonly reprove with one smooth and practised movement of a hem.