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Manipulating a young woman, or creating a woman for the long term, who is stronger, more confident, more sophisticated, and perhaps more, modern is intriguing.

As heck.

As long as it is her idea, and I make her stronger, or more able to exist in the messed up modern world, I guess I can work with it.

And her.

After dinner,and at the long oak dining table we usually eat at, Storm takes our white china dinner plates away. She returns with a large note pad, several pens, and a sticky pad, of all things.

She also has those overly big round hot nerd glasses, and she is wearing thick woolen socks.

As she flicks her feet under her cute butt, and sits, I try not to imagine her butt in her panties. She looks up at me, now with a pen in her mouth.

Dear God.

I stand, collect my thoughts and snap into it.

“Now, listen,” I say, as an opening. “There should be no screwing around, literally, and for a while. Now, if you want to compete in NYC’s ruthless dating market, then I suggest you consider this. Get some hobbies, and maybe, some dynamic ones. You mentioned gym bunny date loser noted hobbies. So, perhaps get one or two you enjoy, and ones that may expand your universe. Now, because you spend so much time with your head buried in books, maybe look at non book related hobbies.”

The hot nerd scratches away on her pad, and she is in the zone, fast.

For whatever reason she’s listening to me, like I’m a dating god. I’m not. In the day, I was maybe close, but I was more of a fuck God. Numero Uno, and I was good.

“Maybe just focus on outdoor hobbies, and maybe exotic hobbies.”

“Ideas?”

“No way, Storm! You. Must. Choose. What excites you? What inspires you?”

The hot nerd watches me, and she does bad things to the pen in her mouth. All without realizing.

“Okay, next.” I say as I pace.

I look back at her, and I have an idea. I just don’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Storm. You are perfect the way you are, really, but this next note, is about giving you competitive edge.”

Our eyes meet and she can tell I’m reluctant.

“Say it!”

“Okay, most women today will use some kind of makeup. Now, I personally love natural woman, and I dislike over the top looks, or fake looks.”

“Sir, what is your point?”

I smile, and she is kooky, but refreshing.

“Look, you are cute, and I like that you are natural, but if you want to compete in the NYC dating arena, maybe consider eye makeup. I know you don’t really wear makeup, and I love that about you. I mean like. But, maybe just a little on the eyes. Not a lot, maybe just some.”

“Hmmm,” she says again with the pen between her full wet lips.

“Sure,” she then says. “Let’s even consider a full makeover. Clothes, hair and you know, overall.”

I hope she doesn’t go too far. She is rare, and perfect the way she is.

I like natural women, they are scarce in my world. Actually, they’re unicorns in NYC, and LA.

“Great,” I say trying to wrap things up, and put it to bed. “Just don’t go too far, okay! Maybe one of each, whatever you get. Not too far, please!”