I posted about casual attire the other day, and how hot men can look in the right pair of jeans. Well dressed men are equally hot. Maybe even more so.
A man wearing an expensive, well tailored suit exudes sexiness. He is successful, confident, and knows how to please a woman. Getting him undressed is always a treat! Something about a well-dressed man in sexy dishabille is such a turn on. That crisp, white shirt hanging open, revealing the soft tuft of hair on his chest, and the glory trail leading to untold delights.
It doesn’t matter who unbuckles his belt. It’s hot when he does it, you watch in anticipation. It’s hot when you do it, like unwrapping a present. Either way, watching his clothes being removed piece by piece is an incomparable visual pleasure that never fails to entice.
I think I was about 15 when I first noticed there was something about the way certain guys looked in the right pair of jeans…
My girlfriends and I engaged in the the precursor to texting and text speak. We wrote each other notes while we were in class, to be passed to each other between classes, read and responded to during the next class, and we did this all day long. There is one particular acronym we used that I have never forgotten, and still use, at least in the privacy of my own thoughts, and that is CLA. What, you ask, does that stand for? I’ll give you a hint – a note I may have written at the time might have read something like , “I was standing behind <hot guy> at the drinking fountain, and I was just staring at his CLA.”
Cute Little Ass. Firm, rounded cheeks, nicely hugged by a pair of tight jeans. Hot!
The evolutionary tale is that, because women have been so long forced to walk behind men, they learned to appreciate the view.
I have never stopped enjoying the view from behind. I have also learned that it’s not only the view from behind that makes well fitting jeans a treat for the eyes. Hot guys in jeans is just extremely sexy.
Perfect fantasies start with a kiss. Kissing is so hot, sexy, sweet. Lips, I fear, get forgotten sometimes in our rush to other hot, sexy body parts. But the lips… ah, those make me sigh. The sight of a man’s full sensuous lips is all I need for my thoughts to start wandering.
His arms encircle my waist, as he pulls me against him. I tilt my head to look up at him, my lower lip trapped between my teeth, anticipating. I know he can see it in my eyes, how intensely I long for his kiss. He caresses my face with his strong, warm hand, pushing back my hair. His thumb gently traces my lips. I catch my breath, his touch sends a familiar thrill through me.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, pressing my body against his. He smiles, and moving his hand to the back of my neck, he bends to me. I close my eyes. Ready. Wanting. My knees go weak the second our lips touch. My body melts into him. His hands slip low, grabbing my ass to pull me more tightly against him and I can feel through our clothes that he wants me too.
His tongue parts my lips and my head falls back. I love the hot feel of his mouth on mine. Our tongues dance, our breathing quickens. His kiss becomes deeper, more insistent.
We both know where this is going, but tonight, I want to kiss him forever…
Recently, I began wearing bifocals. I’ve enjoyed 20/20 vision most of my life, but not anymore. I didn’t realize how far from 20/20 I was until I got these glasses. The optometrist told me to wear them, even though it takes awhile to get used to the progressive lenses. She said if I give it enough of a chance, it won’t be long before I know exactly what degree of head tilt I need to see whatever it is I’m looking at.
I am vain enough that I took a good long time picking the frames. So far, everyone has liked them, but friends and family aren’t going to tell you the glasses you just spent top dollar on are not that attractive on your face. I do see myself in the mirror, and think, “I don’t know…”
I met some new people this morning, and one of the people in the group said, shortly after meeting me, “I really like your glasses, Rowena.”
“Oh, thank you,” I responded. “I just started wearing them.” The rest of the group then complimented me, as well.
It was nice. It reminded me that it is always a good idea to say something nice to someone when you can. Also taught me something new – you can compliment someone on their glasses, even if you don’t know them. I never knew that.
Like most people, I guess, I expect HEAs in romance books. But what if the girl doesn’t end up with the guy? Or with the expected guy? Does it leave the door open for a sequel?
Does it lead us us to our own happy ending? I didn’t need a sequel to know that Scarlett O’Hara won Rhett Butler back. There was never a man she couldn’t win over when she set her cap for him. And even though it took her long enough, she finally realized he was the one. (Geez, Scarlett! Rhett was so much hotter than Ashley! What the hell were you thinking?)
Is HEA always the girl gets the guy (or vice versa)? Does the fact that our heroine grew, and learned, and became a stronger person negate happy? If she walks away knowing herself, and knowing her real true love awaits her, doesn’t that warrant some smiles?