We’re dining at a restaurant; nothing fancy, just casual

I hear our waitress has a pretty face and great body.

I wouldn’t know it first hand, because I’m not looking at her.

I’m too busy enjoying the view on the other side of the table.

Our home is filled with plenty of catalogs from Frederick’s and Victoria’s Secret

I won’t lie, I look inside.

But, when I do, I’m not looking at the model.

I see only the outfit and I’m imagining how you’d look in it.

There will be some who say there’s something wrong inside my head.

Some people might accuse me of being untruthful, whipped or a eunuch.

My question to them is, why would I look around at other women

When I already have the most beautiful one lying next to me each night in bed?