V is for vivid memory and imagination

Recently, my guy and I went shopping at JC Penney in Seattle. He is always looking for a jacket or some nice article of clothing to wear. He likes to look good for work.

We were looking at jackets that were marked down. They looked nice, but the fabric didn't feel nice. We both like corduroy and looked at a jacket made of that material.

"I have one already," he said to me. "It's a corduroy one in brown."
"I know," I replied. "You wore it in Stockholm. One night, after dinner, I was cold. You let me wear it."
"You have such a great memory," my guy remarked.
"Thanks. Your jacket fit me, except that I couldn't button it up because my boobs got in the way. If I didn't have boobs, I would have been able to button your jacket up," I replied, which made him laugh.
"I am glad that you have boob," he said, grinning.
"Yes. I love when you play with them."

A couple of weekends ago, I went out with a friend and was driving her home. She told me that there was a guy cooking in his kitchen apartment and he was naked.

In a way, I was glad that I had my eyes on the road, instead of on that naked guy.

Isn't cooking in front of a stove dangerous when you're nude? As a man, you could get your manhood caught in the fridge door or burned by accident. If you're frying something in the pan, oil can platter on you.

Of course, I'd love to see my guy naked all the time. However, I don't want him injured that way in the kitchen.