Two scenarios come to mind.
The first:
In a noisy, crowded, but high-class bar a woman is having a drink with friends at a table. A good-looking young man walks into the bar, or maybe ‘swaggers’ is a better word for it. His boyish charm and cheerful arrogance captivate the woman immediately, and she studiously ignores him while noticing every move he makes. No stranger to the flirting game himself, he proceeds to laugh, chat with and captivate every other woman in the place, without a glance in her direction. Finally, toward the end of the evening, without either of them having even acknowledged the other’s presence, he whispers to her in passing, “I’ll do anything you want for $50, but you have to command me in three words.”
Surprised and more than a little excited, she sits back in her chair and appraises him, his broad shoulders, narrow waist, powerful legs and strong arms, and his cocky smile. She licks her lips and stares into his eyes while she reaches into her purse for the cash. Stuffing the bills into the front pocket of his tight jeans she places her cheek next to his and purrs into his ear, “Paint my house.”
The second:
On a trans-Pacific flight a nervous, virginal young woman, traveling alone and afraid of flying, is maddened by fear when the plane experiences unexpected turbulence while flying over the dark ocean. Suddenly, one of the plane’s engines flames out, and despite the captain’s announcement that there is nothing to fear, she becomes convinced that her death is imminent. Panicked, and unwilling to die a virgin, she rises from her seat and screams, “Is there a man on this flight who can make me feel like a woman before we all die?”
A middle-aged businessman, also traveling alone, is the only one to rise from his seat several rows ahead of her. He turns to face her, and as he does, he removes his suit jacket and tie, leaving them on the seat as he slowly moves in her direction. She silences her cries as she watches him approach with a half-smile on his face, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he approaches. The plane is still lurching in the dark, yet all of the passengers – and especially the young woman – are intent on the man slowly disrobing as he staggers toward her.
Finally he reaches her seat, just as he undoes the last button on the shirt. Quickly he doffs the garment and hands it to her. “Iron my shirt,” he commands.