It is an honor to be seen with you, to be with you. Know that we prepare for this honor sometimes for hours. We shower, shave, slather lotion on, dry our hair, curl or straighten it, arrange it in an
up do, braid it. We perfume our bodies. We pluck or wax our legs, eyebrows, pubs. We endure the pain and discomfort of this eagerly, willingly. We put on make-up, change our minds, wash it off, re-apply. We choose our lingerie then change it because it doesn’t suit the outer clothes we wear. Both the lingerie and outer clothing are chosen with you in mind, not comfort. Trust me, no one wears a corset or high heels because of comfort. We strap on the pretty sandles, slip into the ma
tching pumps. We make sure to apply deodorant – usually twice – because just the thought of you makes us hot enough to sweat. The idea that your eyes might smolder with desire, that you might compliment us causes slight heart palipatations. But the image, the memory, the hope of your touch – your hand, your lips, your skin – is enough to, pardon the old fashioned expression, make us practically swoon.
I ask that you know we do this not because you expect it of us, but because we expect it of ourselves. To be less than our best, to be less than as close to perfect as we can be, is simply unacceptable. Why? Because you, our men, our loves, our dominants, our husbands, our lovers, you deserve only the best and so we strive to make ourselves better. If we do this in error, if you would prefer jeans, a t-shirt, flip flops, natural skin , please let us know in a kindly manner. Point out to us our successes rather than our failures. Tell us the color of our lipstick is lovely, but not as lovely as our skin. (Rather than telling us to wipe that crap off of our faces.) Tell us the outfit looks made special for us and you can’t wait to rip it off our bodies. (Rather than asking why we’re still wearing a bra.) Tell us the shoes are dazzling and that you look forward to rubbing any soreness from the cramped muscles. (Rather than telling us we will break our necks.)
We, your ladies, your wives, your lovers, your submissives, we prepare our bodies, our minds, our souls with the prime intention of pleasing you.
Be gentle with us.