Can’t divert your gaze, can you? Is it the allure of my beauty tonight or the seductive sheen of my outfit that captivates you? You’re an easy target, falling prey to the familiar shimmer of the shoes you so generously gifted. Regrettably, they’re reserved for adorning my feet during an evening out with my boyfriend, not you. However, consider it a privilege that you get a preview before our departure. Oh, did I mention? You’re generously funding tonight’s escapade – dinner, drinks, and dessert, not just the heels adorning my feet. While we revel in the evening, you’ll be left daydreaming, your loser drizzle confined in its cage, envisioning how we delight in the fruits of your hard-earned money. Upon our return, find your place in the corner, eager to remove the heels and massage my feet – a meager task compared to the indulgent fun that awaits me upstairs with my boyfriend. It might sting, the role you play, the locked-up listener from downstairs, but consider it a stroke of luck that your place is at the feet of this goddess, worshipping the very ground I tread upon.
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