I have a conflicted relationship with suits. I love them. They are sexy and powerful and I love the way Sir looks when wears them. Most couple’s walk-in closet is full of women’s clothes and shoes. I think I have three dresses in ours. The rest is full of Sir’s suits and dress clothes. I wash his dress shirts once a week. He even lets me wash my bras with them (it’s odd that I get a warm fuzzy from that).
He looks so confident in a suit. I mean, he can command a room with a beer t-shirt and plaid shorts on. But it’s like he stands even taller in his three-piece. He buttons that jacket and I just want to drop to my knees. I will always crawl for him, but it is a lot easier when I can look at suit pants and dress shoes. He doesn’t take on a different personality, per se, but he does have an air about him. His dominant side is even easier to see. I usually don’t joke with him when he is in a suit. That doesn’t mean I don’t drool when I see one hanging on the door though.
However, a suit can usually only mean one thing. It means that Sir has court. He always looks professional and smart for work, but the full suit is for court dates and important meetings. He’s earning a living for our family and I will always appreciate that. But suit days are stressful for him. The suit brings with it a lot of weight. A lot of responsibility for his clients and his reputation. As much as I want him to do well, I don’t like the idea of all that pressure. But that’s his job.
Because the suit means court, it also usually means a long day. He is rarely home for dinner on suit days, and we rarely ever play. He comes home, has a drink, and usually crashes. I don’t judge him for that, I’m sure I would do the same.
So I never know how I will respond when I see a suit sitting out for the next day. I want to jump and smile and kneel. I want to crawl toward him in his suit and deliver his whiskey. I want to unbutton those pants and service him as he relaxes after a long day. In a way, his suits give me confidence too. The suit represents his work for our family, and I want to show him my appreciation of that work.
Maybe I need to buy him a Dom suit. A suit that he doesn’t wear to court. One that is just for me and our time together. It’s selfish, and it would be expensive, but it would also be really hot. And I wouldn’t have to worry if it got a bit dirty. Though I would clean it as soon as I could; so he could wear it again as soon as possible.