Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
I just discovered a new obsession with macrame. So when I saw a macrame plant hanger class, I had to sign up. I imagined a group of older ladies. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Most of the people taking the class were in their twenties and thirties, including a few guys.There was a handful of women in their forties and fifties. But the biggest shocker of all was the teacher. I assumed a macrame plant hanger class would be taught by an older hippie woman. That’s what I get for assuming. The teacher looked like one of those male models on the cover of a romance novel. You know the type. Tall, tanned, and muscular with long sunbleached golden hair blowing in the wind. Well, in this case it was getting blown by the fan. But you know what I mean.
Macrame Obsession
He was the outdoorsy type that could survive off the land if he needed to. I’m sure he rarely wears shoes. He sure wasn’t that day. All he was wearing was bermuda shorts. I mean it was pretty hot in the old little building. Luckily there was a lot of air flow from all the fans and open windows. But when he started teaching us all of the macrame knots, I started to sweat. The way he caressed and wrapped that rope like it was an artform. And the way his muscles flexed each time he pulled it taught. I could feel his strength. And the sweat making my little white sundress stick to my body. I started to regret the decision not to wear a bra when the fan hit my wet dress and made my nipples rock hard. When he turned around and looked right at them, I knew they were as obvious as they felt.
You don’t want to miss what happened next. So stay tuned for part 2
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453