She wears nine inch nails six inch heels, and her legs go all the way down to the ground. I look her up and down. The curve of her calf, the strength in her thighs, her short skirt barely hiding the gap between her thighs, her wide hips, narrow waist, breasts rising tremulously over a blouse that is barely held closed by a pearl button. Her neck is elegant and her cheekbones high.
It’s when I get to her eyes, that my heart truly begins to go wild. They are wide and big and sparkle with intelligence and humor. She knows what she’s doing to me and she is glad she is, but more than that, she knows that I see her not just her physical beauty. I can tell she has opinions, and knows things I don’t know, and at the same time, she likes to play—all kinds of play, not just bedroom games, although those games are what flash into my mind when I first look her up…. and down, unable to control my reflexive, purely male reaction.
I am attracted to her like a moth to a light. She is the only thing I see, and I am so turned on and yet, so anxious because when she says something to me, I can’t think, and I stumble over my words and I sound like a teenager trying to ask a girl out for the very first time.
In a few moment, my brain will kick in, and my control will be back on line, and the ion shields will protect me while the thrusters build up their power. But right now, I am entranced and thrilled to be a boy, and still wonder if she will say yes.
