Voluptuously Yours,

Figuratively Speaking

Richard watched Dawn under his hooded eyes, who was sitting across the vast expansive table.

Gloria was at his side, praising the beauty of the dining hall to Lorenzo, who was serving rich tomato soup.

It irked him that Dawn wasn't even paying attention to the decor surrounding her.

It was worth attention-grabbing.

The long majestic mahogany table polished in wax made the reflection of the chandelier on top more clear. Long French windows at the side showing off his vast trimmed out grass lawn.

A painting of Richard was hung on the wall right behind him.

He had personally done it to reward his eyes every morning of his looks.

The painter was one the famous watercolor artist who was paid big sums of money to acquire the realness of his portrait.

In the picture, he stands with his hand tucked into his pocket. His chest puffed up naked with him simply wearing dirty grey pants. The background was dark velvet.

The sexual aspect of it wasn't unnoticed. Richard leered at it ever so often. Any one who was invited, leered at it too.

Only Dawn didn't.

Someone who was purposely ignoring his beauty didn't seat well with him.

He always had problems with his looks when he was overweight.

With a lot of therapy, working out and diet, he finally got himself well defined and ripped. The hard work and the centered focus of not eating things that were fattening made him want reward himself.

He can still remember that night and that was the one and only night he had brought over six women. The feelings of being wanted again returned and being caressed all over, petting his cock while he laid on his bed.

The bad thing about that night had been his sudden addiction to women.

Addiction is deadly when not done right. Now he knew how deeply sexy and beautiful he actually turned out to be, women would take notice of him.

A little wink here and there. A little gazing of the hands. A squeeze on his biceps, telling him they were really liking what they were seeing.

He never brought the women home but he simply marveled over being wanted.
Thats it.

He had list for what he was truly addicted to: It's rating started with himself first, then work, his house, whiskey, and lastly women.

It's only right which is why his sudden brooding of someone not noticing him or his splendors sent sharp glasses cutting through him.

Dawn could feel the man's atrocious gaze on her.

She was busy checking her phone, watching the  front screen wallpaper.

She sighed. It was the one darling beaut of a man she had a crush on.

Giovani Garcia, a well known artist and photographer. He too worked for the same magazine company as Dawn did but he was at the top now.

She was still climbing to reach where he was but his work was inspiring.

Giovani was more into black and white photography and he believed colors were deceiving.

His words gave him ambition because literally who are people without color.

Yet Giovani stood by his own belief and no matter what anyone said he stuck to it.