The Southern Gentleman decided to help me pick out my outfit for the night.
“It’s great,” he said as he leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “But what’s under the shirt?”
I shrugged, “a bra.”
He smiled, “and what’s under the bra?”
“My…” I rolled my eyes, “ugh, you’re such a child.” I pulled my shirt and bra up, showing him my breasts.
“Good girl,” he grinned.
True story: I once sent the following text to a girlfriend while in an art museum:
This statue’s nipples look JUST like yours.
I just sort of felt it needed to be said. And I’m a little tired of modern standards for how every last minute detail on a woman’s body should look, when art shows such gorgeous variety.
And I’ve got chills.
She’s a model, it’s obvious. Nothing but dirt and dust around her, and not even a smudge on her. She likes posing for these dirty pictures, giggles about it with her girlfriends. Why not have some fun with these pervs? And it pays well.
When she looks up, she’ll see that the camera is standing alone on its tripod. Everyone has left and the door is locked. I don’t know how long they’ll leave her there, but she won’t be this clean again.