This is for the woman in you ... I want you to stare into my eyes in a dark romantic restaurant. I want you to run your stockinged toes up my leg to my crotch, to feel my need. I want you to the window in my apartment and gaze across the river. I want you to feel my lips on the back of your neck, to turn and kiss me, to feel my hands running up your legs lifting your skirt. I want you to be guided back to the sofa, to feel the coolness of the leather on the backs of your legs as we kiss and caress. I want you to feel me guiding your knickers to one side and find you are already wet with anticipation, to gently wrap your legs around my back as I slide into you, as I make you mine… Perhaps we could add a precursor, we arrive back from the meal, your head swimming with excitement, I leave the room and return with a box, I explain it is just a little something for you to wear to get in the mood... Thrilled at the prospect, you retire to the bedroom to examine the contents, thrilled as you find a single blood red rose sitting on the tissue inside the box, you lift the flower off and draw back the tissue. Inside you see the Agent Provocateur Diva corset, perfect in black, resting on this are the most gorgeous, sexy, impractical, black stilettos you've ever seen, over these are draped a pair of sheer, seamed hold up stockings, the little mountain of eroticism being topped by the most delicate, sexy lace knickers imaginable and a sheer pair of elbow length satin gloves... You strip off the clothes you wore for the restaurant. Firstly, you pull on the knickers, which bite into the cleft of your bum and barely cover your bud. Next the stockings, it's tricky getting the seams straight but you manage it at last. You climb into the corset and begin to slowly draw in the strings, adjusting as you go, to get the perfect hourglass shape. It's hard to breath at first, but then you're breathless with excitement anyway, you know it will become easier as your body adjusts. You reach into the bag and draw out the gloves and gently pull them on, you can't resist the urge to just run them down your body, and they feel delectable. Your nipples rise in anticipation and you are leaking imperceptibly from your most intimate places. Finally you step into the stilettos, totter a little unused to the altitude, and quickly fix your lipstick from the kissing earlier. One more quick glance in the mirror, perfect. You reach for the door handle, the only thing on your mind being "Now how can I thank you for such a glorious evening and gift..."