Sunday, 2 August 2009

Booty Call

Last night after hours* I got a booty text. (Is it even still called a booty call/text?)
Would I fancy a massage?
Could I be at his sharpish?
My loins were indeed tickled by the text but I wasn't really appropriately dressed. I was in jeans, a leg wax long overdue, my hair was a mess, I was wearing flats (he has a thing for knee high boots which even in summer I try and oblige).
I replied with "maybe next time...".
When I get home I regret not being prepared like a good Girl Guide. I am organised in every part of my life except this. If I'm just going down the pub with friends what is wrong with jeans, a highly unsuitable ironic t-shirt and flip flops? Or more to the point maybe why wouldn't I feel comfortable going to his dressed as me and not as his 'fantasy' woman.
*I was still in the pub but it was after 11.00 pm which, if it's too late to sound a car horn in a built-up area, it's too late to be deemed as innocent communication.

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