The material was tight, but not overwhelming. His gentle hands kneaded the laces and tied them together firmly. Although not too comfortable, it wasn’t suffocating. In a suave motion, his digits ran over the corset’s front, pressing a chaste peck to your exposed neck.

“Don’t know how you could wear somethin’ like this.” He breathed out, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Of course, the dim-witted man understood nothing of beauty or its standards.