[MasterfulButch]

Apparently, I need to fantasise:

Right now, I would like to be at a swanky evening event with a fabulous femme as my date. I’d like to be just at that moment when we’ve done the mingling, enjoyed the meal and I’m holding my hand out, my eyebrows raised as I invite her to dance with me. We would step onto the dance floor, me in my tux, her in a long, slinky black number with a slit up the thigh. I give her that private smile and she knows she’s the only woman in the room that my eyes can see. She takes my hand and steps in toward me and I relish the feeling of her body sliding into place against mine. I wrap my arm around her back, honoured that it’s my place to do so, and close my eyes as I breathe in her scent. We sway in time to the music, adrift in a precious moment shared between us alone.

I’m roused from my blissful reverie by the feel of her pulling away slightly and placing her hand lightly on the centre of my chest. “Take me home?”

My innards somersault in response. I’ve seen that look before. “Gladly,” I murmur.

I take her hand in mine and lead her from the dance floor. Both of us wear secret smiles of anticipation and of the knowledge that the best is yet to come.