Can I just preface my very first post on You Won’t Go Blind with a hearty “Hallelujah!”?
Tough. I just did.
Why, you ask? Well, you see, my future mother in law reads my blog, which means I have 2 choices when posting things that no mother wants to read about her son: 1. trash the post and 2. send a disclaimer telling her she may, in fact, wish she had gone blind if she reads my latest post.
I love the woman dearly, I do. She’s great. And it’s not that she doesn’t know that
I’m a randy tramp I’m technically married to another man so is her son or that we do in fact have sex, because trust me, she does. I suspect it wasn’t my blog that gave that away. Could have been picking her up from the airport in clothes that were inside out.
Regardless, I like to shield her from our more, shall we say, adult pursuits.
Yes, I managed to make Christmas into some kind of drawn out porn. (Filed under: Reasons my future husband loves me.)
Weeks before Christmas, but after I was told he was done his shopping, I pointed out the most amazing thigh high boots ever. They were black and come up to about mid-thigh. The top is laced up the back. The heel is a good 4-5 inches.
These suckers were exactly what I imagined all these years when I desired my very own pair of Julia Roberts (a la Pretty Women) fuck-me boots.
I promised him that if he bought me these boots, I would make him a very happy man.
He explained he was already a very happy man and that I was a woman with many shoes.
I explained that I would wear them to my mother’s for Christmas to give him something to think about while we were there.
He looked me in the eye to see if I was serious. Then he smirked because he knew I was.
So he bought me the boots.
The boots came in and I’ve been in love with them ever since. And for Christmas I definitely put on those hooker boots, coupled with a corset and some very lacy underwear. I forced him to see exactly what was on under my conservative below the knee skirt, blouse and jacket and off we went to my mother’s house.
He was shocked I followed through.
Meanwhile, I’m convinced I wasted my own money on Christmas presents for him, because after we went to bed that night and the conservative clothes came off, he informed me that those boots were the best present he ever bought for himself.
photo courtesy of google images