Fic, Glamour Lust, untitled part 3
Apr. 18th, 2003 02:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamjarPart 3, in which Mark learns that cleavage is an acceptable substitute for mind-controlling glamour.
Note: After having some trouble dealing with pronouns, I decided to put it like this- if the Person whose POV it is, thinks of Girl!Mark as female, then Mark gets a she. If they think of him as male still, then he.
Davy drank his bloody martini and waited for Io. Davy was pretty much built for monogamy, but he did miss being able to appreciate other women. It wasn't just that Iolanthe was possessive enough to make even a Drakthos blink, thought that was part of it, but most of it had to do with how distracting Io was. Thinking about anyone or anything else when Io was around and female was well nigh impossible. She just pushed everything else into the background, so all the things Davy normally had on his mind- worries, idle thoughts, musings on the evolution of mythology, as exemplified buy Xena and Hercules- well, they all just seemed to take two steps back.
In her absence, all the attractive women suddenly seemed to step forwards and make themselves known. Davy wouldn't dream of actually going up to one- too shy and too faithful- but it was nice to appreciate them, in a purely academic way. Aesthetically. Intellectually.
Like the nice hourglass standing by the coat check. Even from the back, she had a lovely figure, nice hips and a smooth back exposed by a tiny dark dress, that had obviously ridden up a little as she leaned over to argue with the coat-check girl, because Davy could see she was wearing stockings, under knee high boats. Her hair had fallen forwards, so he couldn't see how long it was until she straightened up, tossed her head and a wave of dark hair, longer than her dress, came out to cover her bare back in a way that was...
actually, that was...
a
little
familiar.
Davy banged his head against the table three times, straightened up and covered his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Not again, not again, for the sake of my sanity, not again," he muttered repeatedly. "There's no way, it couldn't be, I'm just going to open my eyes and it'll be..."
He opened his eyes and saw a pair of breasts, in one of those necklines that Io favoured that somehow managed to keep them securely on the verge of bursting out, without it ever happening.
"Ah, there you are, little brother. I need you to intercede for me," Mark said. Davy looked up. It was definitely Mark. Mark's features, although they were warped into something softer,
"Sure, do you mind waiting until I gouge my eyes out?" Davy said, shuddering violently.
"What? Why are you... Pervert," Mark said, amusement and distaste warring for dominance on his -his, Davy chanted silently, keep telling yourself it his face, Mark's face. "Lech. Everyone between here and Aerael's apartment is beneath contempt. I need a drink."
"I need alcohol induced amnesia," Davy said. "What happened? Why are you a girl again?"
Markkas sat down, legs neatly tucked under the chair and crossed at the ankles. He smoothed the hem of his dress down in a gesture that looked as automatic as Iolanthe checking that the tops of her stockings were showing. "Something I did got Bonnie worked up, and no, I don't know what it was, but since you seem to find this situation as almost as disturbing as I do, I suggest you start harassing Bonnie to change me back."
"Davy, it's good to see you again. Can I get you or your friend anything?" The waitress, a pooka, with the animé-inspired fox ears and tail the trendy shapeshifters were sporting this century, asked the question without once looking at Davy. "If this is your first time here, maybe I can show you round the drinks list."
Mark didn't look at her. "Something strong," he said. "And expensive," after a moment. Davy fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'll see what I can do," the waitress said, undeterred.
The waitress came towards them with a tray of drinks. "You've picked up some admirers. The champagne's from the blond in the red t-shirt, it's the good stuff, the beer's from the brunette by the bar, the blue thing is from the two guys by the door and this is from me. House speciality, Strong enough to make you forget all the troubles it gets you into."
"Money, but no imagination," Mark said, touching the drinks in order "What was she thinking, what were they thinking and this had better do what you say," picking up the final drink, something dark green with bubbles.
"Do you want me to take the drinks back, then?"
Mark shook his head. "Just leave the tray."
"If you're sure. And you want anything, you can ask for me at the bar. Lil," she added, gesturing at her nametag.
Mark gave her a look that made Davy shiver. It was the look Mark had when he was weighing someone as a snack, and it looked utterly wrong on his female face. On a woman, it looked a little challenging and a lot hungry, the sort of look that had made men do stupid things to prove their worthiness for millennia. Davy had a nasty suspicion that this was what others saw when they looked at Mark anyway. Dangerous and superior and attractive enough that some part of you said it'd all be worth it.
"I'll keep that in mind," Mark said.
"You do that," Lil said. She flicked her tail at Mark as she left, swaying it slightly as she strolled away.
"So, how soon until you can persuade Bonnie to return me to normal?" Mark said, returning his attention to Davy. "We have a conference call between Faerie and Japan on Tuesday. I can't do it like this."
"Io'll probably be more help than me," Davy said. "She should be here soon. What about Aerael? Can't he..."
Mark shook his head. "Bonnie sent him off somewhere. I have no idea where he is, or how long it'll take him to get back." He smirked. "Although wherever it is, I hope it's warm."
"Why? Wait, I take that back."
Mark's smirk widened. "I think she felt Aerael's presence inhibited the punishment aspect of this punishment. You see, we were just about to..."
"What did I just say? Anyway, we need to get you somewhere safer. If word gets out that" he lowered his voice, "Markkastanen si Rhaegal Sartain is vulnerable... There are a lot of people who'd like to take advantage of that, especially when you look like this. Couldn't you have worn something with a bit more... just a bit more," Davy added. Another man passed by and eyed Mark's legs briefly, before staring at her breasts. Davy brought a wing around to shield her. "You're human for the moment, you need to be a bit more careful."
"And what am I supposed to do? Stay at home and meditate on my sins."
"I think that's probably what Bonnie had in mind. She might let you off easy if you behave."
Mark gave him a long, who -do-you-think-I-am? look. Davy sighed. "At least you're not..."
"You liked the champagne?" A voice interrupted Davy. He looked up and saw a man, fae with more than a little high sidhe in him by the looks of it, as well as something a little commoner.
Mark tilted his head on one side, a movement that sent his hair tumbling down his side so it framed him nicely. He brought one hand up to stroke his neck lightly, the movement sending his chunky metal bracelets down his forearms and dragging the man's eyes to Mark's chest like he'd laid a geas on him.
"I want you to listen to me," Mark said in a husky voice. "Are you listening?"
The fae nodded, but didn't lift his head up.
"Good," Mark said. "I am so utterly out of your league that you should be thankful I'm letting you buy me a drink. You wouldn't last half an hour with me, let alone the night, and if I wanted I could make you spend the rest of your life screaming my name in tribute, but frankly, you're just not worth the effort."
That got his attention. The fae raised his head, brows drawing together and glamour gathering around him. "Hey, you can't talk to me like that. I'm..."
Mark dropped his hand to half-hug his ribcage, the movement making him sit up a little straighter. The fae lost his train of thought completely. Mark smiled, showing teeth that reminded Davy that humans were omnivores, not herbivores, and had teeth designed to cut flesh as well as fibre. "You're about to get me a refill of..." He gestured at the table with his free hand. "Of everything, on the off-chance that I'll get drunk, and go topless."
"What! But I wasn't…" the fae said, managing to look up enough to meet Mark's eye. Mark raised one eyebrow.
"Good. And have the pretty vixen with the foxtail bring them over."
The fae slunk back into the crowds. Davy looked at Mark. "Can't you do something about your dress? Pull it up a little?" He mimed tugging at the neckline.
Mark shrugged. "Not without it going up at the hem. I didn't choose to dress like this. It was the only thing Aerael had that fit. I am better built than her, although maybe not up to Iolanthe's standards."
The voice was different but the tone carried every bit of Mark's usual arrogance. Davy ignored it completely, for the mention of Iolanthe. "No-one's up to Iolanthe's standards," he said. "She's pretty much perfect."
"Spare me. When's she getting here? I need to get out of this outfit." he reached down and undid the zips on his boots a few inches. "It's not comfortable like this."
"I don't want you to stay like this either," Davy said. He looked at Mark then looked away quickly, shaking his head. "It's... disturbing." The body was human, was female, and was notMark. It didn't smell like him, didn't feel like him, didn't have his glamour and every instinct in Davy's body was saying that this was human, female and appetising in a lot of ways. And then instincts ran into the thought that this was Mark, and the resulting collision made him want to claw out his brain and have it dry-cleaned.
Markkas finished his drink, looked around to see who was next to be served at the bar, made eye contact, nodded at his empty glass and half a minute later was enjoying his refill. At least that was on advantage
"And maybe you shouldn't..."
Mark leaned back in his chair, legs crossed and idly winging one of the steel bracelets as casually as a gunslinger twirling his pistol. "Shouldn't what, little brother?"
Davy shook his head. A familiar head briefly appeared through the crowd and he straightened up.
"Sweetie, what have you been up to? I hadn't stepped one foot in the bar before people were telling me about the beautiful woman you were for the love of Bacchus, no!" Her cry of denial was immensely cheering on some level. Misery loves company, Davy guessed.
"Io, Bonnie's done this to Mark again."
"What did you do?"
"She didn't say," Mark said, shrugging.
"And you couldn't narrow down..."
"Io," Davy hissed, pulling her down. He glanced at Mark, who seemed absorbed in the latest alcoholic concoction in front of him. "Io, you've got to help," he whispered. "We've got a meeting and Mark can't do the work as a human, and I don't know what to do and he keeps getting all these drinks from people and..."
"There, there, sweetie," Iolanthe said, cradling him to her bosom, a form of therapy Davy always found tremendously effective. Knots of tension in his back started to unwind as he stroked his head. "Of course I'll help you, even if it means helping your bastard of a brother as well. I tried to call Bonnie earlier, about our girl's night in this weekend, but I couldn't get through. I can try again later."
"Thank you," Davy said, closing his eyes in relief. "Will you help me look after Mark until then? See that he doesn't get into too much trouble."
There was a moment while Iolanthe's desire to help Davy visibly warred with her desire to see Mark suffer for any of the things he might have done to deserve it, but Davy won hands down. "Okay, but you owe me for this one."
Davy smiled brilliantly. "Whatever you want."
She sighed turned to Mark who was waiting for her, drink in one hand and eyebrow raised. "Well, how soon can you get Bonnie to fix me?"
" Probably not quickly enough for you to avoid the hangover from those drinks you've been knocking back," Io said. "And if you want to see tomorrow, you should probably lay off them." She touched one of the champagne glasses. "Especially when you don't know who or what sent them over." She rubbed her finger together and Davy could see something like smoke come off them. "Glamour, geases and alcohol don't mix. This bar has a lot of wild types, and you're pretty much helpless now. You might be a complete bastard, but..."
Mark drew himself up. It was an impressive display, one that made Davy avert his eyes and contemplate banging his head on the table. "What did you just call me?" He said, putting his glass down carefully and flexing his hands in a way that drew attention to the talon-like nails on them..
Io smiled prettily and stood up. She was a few inches taller than Mark, and her wings were stretched out, like a cat's hair standing on end as it prepares for a fight. She crossed her arms under her chest in a way that made several men in the bar offer thankful prayers to various gods for the gift of breasts. "Complete bastard? Or are you still telepathic, because in that case it could have been twisted son of a-"
Mark waved a hand dismissively. "No, before that."
Io blinked, genuinely confused.
"Helpless," Mark said. "You called me helpless. Like I was some powerless little bit of prey, a snack in the waiting."
He bent over at the waist, one arm holding the hair up so it didn't drag on the floor, and incidentally causing the woman standing behind him to drop her glass and rethink her sexuality. A little bit of jiggle and he straightened up again. The movement had done something to the neckline, something that made Davy want to stab his eyes out with a cocktail umbrella for even noticing.
"I am Markkastanen Si Rhaegel Sartain," he said, managing somehow to whisper and declaim at the same time, "and whatever body I'm in, I am not helpless. And I think it's time you, the Wild Bitch and the rest of the universe realised that." He twirled around, his hair settling behind him like a pair of tucked in wings and stalked off to the bar.
"Drink," a human said. Markkas surveyed him slowly from head to toe and deemed him worthy of a sip or two. He was warm and golden, muscular in the particularly solid way humans were, that little bit of extra density that comes from the absence of otherworldly material in their making. "I'm Nathan, by the way." He looked confident and charming and just dominant enough that Markkas would enjoy making him bend under his will. that might take a little bit more effort without glamour or telepathy, but Markkas took a deep breath and watched Nathan's eyes dart to his chest.
Yes, he'd do for a little practice. "You can call me Mara."
tbc.
Note: After having some trouble dealing with pronouns, I decided to put it like this- if the Person whose POV it is, thinks of Girl!Mark as female, then Mark gets a she. If they think of him as male still, then he.
Davy drank his bloody martini and waited for Io. Davy was pretty much built for monogamy, but he did miss being able to appreciate other women. It wasn't just that Iolanthe was possessive enough to make even a Drakthos blink, thought that was part of it, but most of it had to do with how distracting Io was. Thinking about anyone or anything else when Io was around and female was well nigh impossible. She just pushed everything else into the background, so all the things Davy normally had on his mind- worries, idle thoughts, musings on the evolution of mythology, as exemplified buy Xena and Hercules- well, they all just seemed to take two steps back.
In her absence, all the attractive women suddenly seemed to step forwards and make themselves known. Davy wouldn't dream of actually going up to one- too shy and too faithful- but it was nice to appreciate them, in a purely academic way. Aesthetically. Intellectually.
Like the nice hourglass standing by the coat check. Even from the back, she had a lovely figure, nice hips and a smooth back exposed by a tiny dark dress, that had obviously ridden up a little as she leaned over to argue with the coat-check girl, because Davy could see she was wearing stockings, under knee high boats. Her hair had fallen forwards, so he couldn't see how long it was until she straightened up, tossed her head and a wave of dark hair, longer than her dress, came out to cover her bare back in a way that was...
actually, that was...
a
little
familiar.
Davy banged his head against the table three times, straightened up and covered his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Not again, not again, for the sake of my sanity, not again," he muttered repeatedly. "There's no way, it couldn't be, I'm just going to open my eyes and it'll be..."
He opened his eyes and saw a pair of breasts, in one of those necklines that Io favoured that somehow managed to keep them securely on the verge of bursting out, without it ever happening.
"Ah, there you are, little brother. I need you to intercede for me," Mark said. Davy looked up. It was definitely Mark. Mark's features, although they were warped into something softer,
"Sure, do you mind waiting until I gouge my eyes out?" Davy said, shuddering violently.
"What? Why are you... Pervert," Mark said, amusement and distaste warring for dominance on his -his, Davy chanted silently, keep telling yourself it his face, Mark's face. "Lech. Everyone between here and Aerael's apartment is beneath contempt. I need a drink."
"I need alcohol induced amnesia," Davy said. "What happened? Why are you a girl again?"
Markkas sat down, legs neatly tucked under the chair and crossed at the ankles. He smoothed the hem of his dress down in a gesture that looked as automatic as Iolanthe checking that the tops of her stockings were showing. "Something I did got Bonnie worked up, and no, I don't know what it was, but since you seem to find this situation as almost as disturbing as I do, I suggest you start harassing Bonnie to change me back."
"Davy, it's good to see you again. Can I get you or your friend anything?" The waitress, a pooka, with the animé-inspired fox ears and tail the trendy shapeshifters were sporting this century, asked the question without once looking at Davy. "If this is your first time here, maybe I can show you round the drinks list."
Mark didn't look at her. "Something strong," he said. "And expensive," after a moment. Davy fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'll see what I can do," the waitress said, undeterred.
The waitress came towards them with a tray of drinks. "You've picked up some admirers. The champagne's from the blond in the red t-shirt, it's the good stuff, the beer's from the brunette by the bar, the blue thing is from the two guys by the door and this is from me. House speciality, Strong enough to make you forget all the troubles it gets you into."
"Money, but no imagination," Mark said, touching the drinks in order "What was she thinking, what were they thinking and this had better do what you say," picking up the final drink, something dark green with bubbles.
"Do you want me to take the drinks back, then?"
Mark shook his head. "Just leave the tray."
"If you're sure. And you want anything, you can ask for me at the bar. Lil," she added, gesturing at her nametag.
Mark gave her a look that made Davy shiver. It was the look Mark had when he was weighing someone as a snack, and it looked utterly wrong on his female face. On a woman, it looked a little challenging and a lot hungry, the sort of look that had made men do stupid things to prove their worthiness for millennia. Davy had a nasty suspicion that this was what others saw when they looked at Mark anyway. Dangerous and superior and attractive enough that some part of you said it'd all be worth it.
"I'll keep that in mind," Mark said.
"You do that," Lil said. She flicked her tail at Mark as she left, swaying it slightly as she strolled away.
"So, how soon until you can persuade Bonnie to return me to normal?" Mark said, returning his attention to Davy. "We have a conference call between Faerie and Japan on Tuesday. I can't do it like this."
"Io'll probably be more help than me," Davy said. "She should be here soon. What about Aerael? Can't he..."
Mark shook his head. "Bonnie sent him off somewhere. I have no idea where he is, or how long it'll take him to get back." He smirked. "Although wherever it is, I hope it's warm."
"Why? Wait, I take that back."
Mark's smirk widened. "I think she felt Aerael's presence inhibited the punishment aspect of this punishment. You see, we were just about to..."
"What did I just say? Anyway, we need to get you somewhere safer. If word gets out that" he lowered his voice, "Markkastanen si Rhaegal Sartain is vulnerable... There are a lot of people who'd like to take advantage of that, especially when you look like this. Couldn't you have worn something with a bit more... just a bit more," Davy added. Another man passed by and eyed Mark's legs briefly, before staring at her breasts. Davy brought a wing around to shield her. "You're human for the moment, you need to be a bit more careful."
"And what am I supposed to do? Stay at home and meditate on my sins."
"I think that's probably what Bonnie had in mind. She might let you off easy if you behave."
Mark gave him a long, who -do-you-think-I-am? look. Davy sighed. "At least you're not..."
"You liked the champagne?" A voice interrupted Davy. He looked up and saw a man, fae with more than a little high sidhe in him by the looks of it, as well as something a little commoner.
Mark tilted his head on one side, a movement that sent his hair tumbling down his side so it framed him nicely. He brought one hand up to stroke his neck lightly, the movement sending his chunky metal bracelets down his forearms and dragging the man's eyes to Mark's chest like he'd laid a geas on him.
"I want you to listen to me," Mark said in a husky voice. "Are you listening?"
The fae nodded, but didn't lift his head up.
"Good," Mark said. "I am so utterly out of your league that you should be thankful I'm letting you buy me a drink. You wouldn't last half an hour with me, let alone the night, and if I wanted I could make you spend the rest of your life screaming my name in tribute, but frankly, you're just not worth the effort."
That got his attention. The fae raised his head, brows drawing together and glamour gathering around him. "Hey, you can't talk to me like that. I'm..."
Mark dropped his hand to half-hug his ribcage, the movement making him sit up a little straighter. The fae lost his train of thought completely. Mark smiled, showing teeth that reminded Davy that humans were omnivores, not herbivores, and had teeth designed to cut flesh as well as fibre. "You're about to get me a refill of..." He gestured at the table with his free hand. "Of everything, on the off-chance that I'll get drunk, and go topless."
"What! But I wasn't…" the fae said, managing to look up enough to meet Mark's eye. Mark raised one eyebrow.
"Good. And have the pretty vixen with the foxtail bring them over."
The fae slunk back into the crowds. Davy looked at Mark. "Can't you do something about your dress? Pull it up a little?" He mimed tugging at the neckline.
Mark shrugged. "Not without it going up at the hem. I didn't choose to dress like this. It was the only thing Aerael had that fit. I am better built than her, although maybe not up to Iolanthe's standards."
The voice was different but the tone carried every bit of Mark's usual arrogance. Davy ignored it completely, for the mention of Iolanthe. "No-one's up to Iolanthe's standards," he said. "She's pretty much perfect."
"Spare me. When's she getting here? I need to get out of this outfit." he reached down and undid the zips on his boots a few inches. "It's not comfortable like this."
"I don't want you to stay like this either," Davy said. He looked at Mark then looked away quickly, shaking his head. "It's... disturbing." The body was human, was female, and was notMark. It didn't smell like him, didn't feel like him, didn't have his glamour and every instinct in Davy's body was saying that this was human, female and appetising in a lot of ways. And then instincts ran into the thought that this was Mark, and the resulting collision made him want to claw out his brain and have it dry-cleaned.
Markkas finished his drink, looked around to see who was next to be served at the bar, made eye contact, nodded at his empty glass and half a minute later was enjoying his refill. At least that was on advantage
"And maybe you shouldn't..."
Mark leaned back in his chair, legs crossed and idly winging one of the steel bracelets as casually as a gunslinger twirling his pistol. "Shouldn't what, little brother?"
Davy shook his head. A familiar head briefly appeared through the crowd and he straightened up.
"Sweetie, what have you been up to? I hadn't stepped one foot in the bar before people were telling me about the beautiful woman you were for the love of Bacchus, no!" Her cry of denial was immensely cheering on some level. Misery loves company, Davy guessed.
"Io, Bonnie's done this to Mark again."
"What did you do?"
"She didn't say," Mark said, shrugging.
"And you couldn't narrow down..."
"Io," Davy hissed, pulling her down. He glanced at Mark, who seemed absorbed in the latest alcoholic concoction in front of him. "Io, you've got to help," he whispered. "We've got a meeting and Mark can't do the work as a human, and I don't know what to do and he keeps getting all these drinks from people and..."
"There, there, sweetie," Iolanthe said, cradling him to her bosom, a form of therapy Davy always found tremendously effective. Knots of tension in his back started to unwind as he stroked his head. "Of course I'll help you, even if it means helping your bastard of a brother as well. I tried to call Bonnie earlier, about our girl's night in this weekend, but I couldn't get through. I can try again later."
"Thank you," Davy said, closing his eyes in relief. "Will you help me look after Mark until then? See that he doesn't get into too much trouble."
There was a moment while Iolanthe's desire to help Davy visibly warred with her desire to see Mark suffer for any of the things he might have done to deserve it, but Davy won hands down. "Okay, but you owe me for this one."
Davy smiled brilliantly. "Whatever you want."
She sighed turned to Mark who was waiting for her, drink in one hand and eyebrow raised. "Well, how soon can you get Bonnie to fix me?"
" Probably not quickly enough for you to avoid the hangover from those drinks you've been knocking back," Io said. "And if you want to see tomorrow, you should probably lay off them." She touched one of the champagne glasses. "Especially when you don't know who or what sent them over." She rubbed her finger together and Davy could see something like smoke come off them. "Glamour, geases and alcohol don't mix. This bar has a lot of wild types, and you're pretty much helpless now. You might be a complete bastard, but..."
Mark drew himself up. It was an impressive display, one that made Davy avert his eyes and contemplate banging his head on the table. "What did you just call me?" He said, putting his glass down carefully and flexing his hands in a way that drew attention to the talon-like nails on them..
Io smiled prettily and stood up. She was a few inches taller than Mark, and her wings were stretched out, like a cat's hair standing on end as it prepares for a fight. She crossed her arms under her chest in a way that made several men in the bar offer thankful prayers to various gods for the gift of breasts. "Complete bastard? Or are you still telepathic, because in that case it could have been twisted son of a-"
Mark waved a hand dismissively. "No, before that."
Io blinked, genuinely confused.
"Helpless," Mark said. "You called me helpless. Like I was some powerless little bit of prey, a snack in the waiting."
He bent over at the waist, one arm holding the hair up so it didn't drag on the floor, and incidentally causing the woman standing behind him to drop her glass and rethink her sexuality. A little bit of jiggle and he straightened up again. The movement had done something to the neckline, something that made Davy want to stab his eyes out with a cocktail umbrella for even noticing.
"I am Markkastanen Si Rhaegel Sartain," he said, managing somehow to whisper and declaim at the same time, "and whatever body I'm in, I am not helpless. And I think it's time you, the Wild Bitch and the rest of the universe realised that." He twirled around, his hair settling behind him like a pair of tucked in wings and stalked off to the bar.
"Drink," a human said. Markkas surveyed him slowly from head to toe and deemed him worthy of a sip or two. He was warm and golden, muscular in the particularly solid way humans were, that little bit of extra density that comes from the absence of otherworldly material in their making. "I'm Nathan, by the way." He looked confident and charming and just dominant enough that Markkas would enjoy making him bend under his will. that might take a little bit more effort without glamour or telepathy, but Markkas took a deep breath and watched Nathan's eyes dart to his chest.
Yes, he'd do for a little practice. "You can call me Mara."
tbc.
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Date: 2003-04-17 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-18 03:55 am (UTC)Wouldn't the question what didn't he do be approporate then?
Date: 2003-04-18 11:15 pm (UTC)Wonderful story. Mark's discovered what most women discovered a long time ago. They all stare at the breasts, and every thought leaves their brains. ^-^ What's worse I guess is that it really works.
Re: Wouldn't the question what didn't he do be approporate then?
Date: 2003-04-18 11:26 pm (UTC)Which, as secondary sexual characteritics go, isn't a bad one- as attractants, it beats those seals that blow giant red balloons out of one nostril membrane.
I like the filter-theory of breasts myself, as stated by Snow White in vertigo's Fables series: "Perhaps women wear low necklines to filter out the gentlemen from the dogs. Those few who can still manage eye contact, even in the presence of breasts like these, might actually have some potential."