Bless me readers, for I have committed a grave, grave, single-gal sin.
I think I’ve allowed myself to fall head over three-inch-heels in-like with a fella. Not just any fella, a good one. A keeper. The kind you bring home to mama and let kiss you in the rain.
Please, please, yes. Bring that tall pitcher of juleps over here darling and pour me another.
Best get settled in my sweet little peach. Best get yourself snugged into that chair nice and comfy with your very own cold glass of refreshing bourbon and mint. That’s right darling, this is going to make everything perky stand straight at attention.
I need your advice.
No, I’m not pulling your leg. Quit looking at me like that. I really need your advice.
As a strong, independent lady, I don’t generally have any trouble wrangling the more macho and deliciously-man-lovely sex into some sort of sweaty submission. Unless….
Unless they truly make my wee little heart go pitter-patter.
That’s right my juicy little plum, I think I’ve met one of those rare gentlemen that deserve to be called, “gentleman”. Instead of flirting and teasing and making my way to the boudoir with this fellow, I’ve become tongue-tied.
Perhaps that’s for the best, no? It would be downright shameful to slip up with what my thoroughbred of an imagination comes up with every time I see him. It’s like I get caught in time, picturing his body under his white linen shirt, imagining his fingertips at my back, and his soft, thick lips on my neck…oh my! It’s makes me shiver with delight, and I haven’t even touched him (yet).
Well, it’s enough to make a girl blush!
Yes, top me up darling. It’s getting awfully hot out here, and I’m nearly faint from the heat. I’m dripping wet from all of this here humidity and girl talk.
No one can ever be sure of what a man is thinking my lovely. That is, if they ever do think at all. Some older, wiser, gentlemen friends have advised that I make my interest known, but I don’t know how to do that. Not with a gentleman, at least.
Something tells me that standing on my tippy-toes and pressing my bosom against him while I check his adam’s apple delicately with my tongue isn’t the right approach.
Well, don’t just sit there looking like the cat got your tongue honey! I’m asking for your help here!!!