Every night this past moon, when they separated for the night, he stood beside her to get his 'goodnight kiss'. Like courters and wooers do everywhere. At least a peck or two.
But now, after the kiss, he'd also ask for his 'goodnight peek'. She'd always giggle and blush, but allow him this strange male preoccupation.
He'd drop to his knees before her. And she'd hike her dress a little, like the way a Spanish dancer does, when she's about to curtsy.
All over the isle, every evening, suitors are asking for a peek. Up a lassie's skirts. “Just one little, pretty panty peek”, a lad says, “and then I'll be on my way”.
And though his proposal embarrasses her, if she really likes him, she might glance around, assure no one is watching, and say “okay, but make it quick!”, lifting her skirts up over his head, so he can take a peek. At her panties. At her feminine world.
That's just what the fire-beings want. To see your unmentionables.
It's why, if you're driving quickly through a neighborhood late at night, you might see a pretty maid standing in front of her home's door, with four legs protruding from under her skirts.
But there is more to this than meets the eye. Because what a man really wants is a sniff. A good sniff. Oh, on their first date he got to sniff her hair, and her cheek and neck, and all was fresh and sweet and girly.
But everyone knows that the real scents of a woman are beneath her skirts. That's where the good sniff is. That's where the good stuff is. That's where you can really sniff her out, and discover who she is.
It's why in the days of yore, suitors would court many a lady, kissing as many as they could, to see how they kissed. Then fall to the knees, to see what kind of sniff her snuff was. Until finally he found a girl whose sniff scents ‘spoke’ to him. That rang a bell inside his head. He'd come out from under her skirts and say “you are the one!”, and propose to her, then and there on her daddy's doorsteps.
He might not even bother to stand up, as he was already on his knees in prime proposal position. He'd just pull a ring out of his pocket and hand it up to her, saying: “thine cunt sure smells purtty, milady,... please accept me ring, and I'll take care of ye all me lifelong days.”