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I have seen women walk into burlesque lessons lumbering and blundering and awkward, I have seen those women walk out of burlesque lessons smiling and giggling and striding. We all want to feel beautiful and comfortable in our own skin ♥ :{D
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Mellon Collie (via GodPossesion)
(c) 2009 GodPossesion under CC-BY-ND license.
Still partly dressed from the night before, she woke slowly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the groggy haze of the morning after was slowly replaced by the smell of fresh coffee.
“He must be a prince,” she thought to herself, “who brings me breakfast on a morning such as this.”
He was at work while she had her friends over for dinner and drinks. It wasn’t the same without him, but he’d said so himself: holidays are holidays and they mustn’t be wasted.
The look on her face as he set the tray of food, a fine display of proscuitto, croissants, marmalade, and black coffee, down beside the bed and handed her a glass of water was one of mild distress and quietly betrayed, though she tried hard to hide it, just how awful she felt after one-too-many beers. While she sipped cool water from the cup he began to speak.
“You were asleep when I arrived home last night.”
“I know… I tried to stay aw…”
“Shh… Drink your water and don’t speak unless I ask you a question, understand?”
*nods*
“You were asleep when I arrived home last night. Splayed out on the couch, arms above your head, legs far enough apart (one dangled off the side, the other propped up on the back) that your pretty little underwear, the ones I bought for you, were peeking out the legs of your short cotton shorts.” He paused for a moment to watch her attempt her best puppy dog eyes in spite of them being still only partially open and clouded by alcohol and sleep. “This was certainly not the mark of a good hostess, but your friends didn’t seem to mind. Some of them had left, others were asleep (but were more modest than yourself) and then there was the one fellow sitting beside you on the couch, close enough that he was between your feet. And I thought to myself: “Surely this can’t be!” But it was”
“Sorry…”
“Shh… After sending your friends home in a cab, I managed to drag you upstairs to bed, where I lay awake for some time deciding what was to be done. But the complicating factor was that this all happened in your sleep, and it’s not really fair to punish someone for what they do in their sleep, is it?
“No! Of course not. Not fair at all!”
“I’m glad we agree on that. But here’s where we run into a problem. You’re my girl, my little pup. You’re the girl I love, I feed, I clothe, I house, I make laugh. You’re all those things and many many more to me. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” She said quietly, starting to see the writing on the wall…
“On your hands and knees. Middle of the bed.” He ordered calmly, taking the empty water glass from her hand and setting it with a thud on the bedside table. He adjusted the position of her hands, straightened her elbows and pressed his palm into the small of her back until it yielded to form the perfect arch. While slowly pacing around the bed he continued. “So isn’t it only fair that my special little girl,” (she felt his hands take the waistband of the little underwear he’d bought her) “if she’s willing to offer so much to her friends, ought to offer more still to me?”
As she nodded yes, she felt her underwear slide down over her bum and come to rest at her knees. She turned her head to look at him as he sat down behind her.
“Look straight ahead and don’t move an inch. It’s a holiday and there’s no paper today; I need something to look at while I have my breakfast. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come once, to help with your hangover, before we begin.”
