It's low enough to easily catch his eye, and I know I'll catch him looking...he'll want me to. Even now, thinking about the evening, I can feel his eyes appraising me, slowly working their way from my plunging neckline, up my neck to my face to stop eventually at my eyes, which will be firmly fixed on his. I can feel his appreciative gaze, the way it lays me bare and causes my heart to flutter and sends a flush of excitement throughout my body. I'd be content never to see another thing, but him look at me that way.
I took this image
I have a special occasion coming up this weekend and my man and I have dinner planned at an Italian restaurant right on the city fringe and we'll wander later, enjoy the city lights and maybe share a dessert over coffee.
In truth, he has it planned, as I'm not supposed to know but...I'm a sneaky little thing sometimes, and I found out. He told me we're going out on the weekend but not where and quite frankly it wouldn't matter to me where it was, but this little place is special: Great food, a nice casual atmosphere and genuinely spectacular food. It's not cheap, but we don't do it often and this occasion is special enough to warrant the restaurant.
I've been working on my outfit and decided on a purple dress I have that I know he loves.
The neckline plunges in a deep 'V' and exposes just enough to ensure his eyes won't wander far from me and the hem is short enough to send a powerful message, it comes to mid-thigh. I'll wear one shoulder slightly pulled down to expose my own shoulder and I'm doing my hair in big rollers so it'll cascade down that shoulder in huge bouncy silvery-blonde curls. Coupled with suede high-heeled boots, of a contrasting purple, that come to just below my knee, the outfit will be complete. A few sprays of Angel by Thierry Mugler, and I'll be ready to make his eyes pop out of their sockets...just a little bit.
It's not a slutty dress, that's not at all my style, but on those occasions, I wear it the result is...very predictable...as it will be on the weekend.
It's been quite a while since we've been out to a restaurant as cafe's are usually where we end up.
We tend to stay home a lot though, happy to cook for ourselves or order in. But on occasions we step out and I simply love it. I feel safe with him, and proud to walk beside a man who cares so much for me, is able to protect me should I need and whose eyes never stray from me; I think that's one of the things I so love about him. I feel like I'm the only important thing in the room when I'm with him and the fact his eyes don't wander is part of that.
I'm ordering spaghetti, they do the best spaghetti ever, and will probably spill some, knock over a glass on the table, or fling my bread roll across the room as I'm trying to apply the butter, I'm predictable in that way, but that's all part of the fun. We don't set unrealistic expectations on each other, our relationship or ourselves; we just have fun understanding that neither of us are perfect, and that silly things happen. It's always been that way and that's another reason to love this man; his ability to laugh things away, to laugh at himself and to make me laugh.
I'm smiling as I write this thinking about some of the things he's done to make me smile...especially at times I've been mad at him for something. He's always trying my patience; they must teach men that in school. I always forgive him because...well, because it's him and I struggle to stay made with him. I'm also smiling at the thought of him seeing my outfit and that way he tries so hard not to grin like an idiot. It's cute...he never succeeds though, he always grins...and I like making it so.
I'll probably not write about the evening as I like to keep things private between us; they seem more special that way, more intimate. Maybe I'll do a photo of my spaghetti though and write about the food a little...even if I spill it on my dress.
Becca 馃挆
