If You Love Her Set Her Free?

Tonight… I miss everything about her.

I miss the softness of her buttery smooth skin. I miss the smell of her perfume entering a room just before her and demanding full attention of my senses. I miss the soft crisp texture of her recently tousled hair. I miss her sweet face and glowing smile. I miss the warmth of her touch. I miss the confidence she has even if it is misguided. I miss her lips on mine and the way they fit so perfectly together. I miss nibbling her bottom lip and hearing her groan. I miss the curve of her breasts. I miss the deliciousness in every inch of her. I miss her shyness. I miss the tattoo that wraps around her beautiful foot. I miss her sweet voice penetrating my thoughts. I miss her surprises. I miss her watching me. I miss her laugh. I miss her love.

I miss her.

They say your first love hurts the deepest. I want to find a new her... But all I’d ever do is compare them to her. I fear it would be a waste.

No one could touch me like her. No one could put me at ease like her. No one could taste like her. No one could ever be as clean as her. No one could purr like her. No one could love me like her.

All of this because I heard a song… She is that song. … Because there ain’t ‘nothing about you [her]’ that don’t do something for me.

God, how I miss her.

I hope she finds her peace. I hope she finds her happiness. I hope she feels complete. I hope she loves her life. I hope she feels loved. I hope they take care of her. I hope they spoil her right back. I hope she learns to let them in. I hope she lets go of all the past and focuses on her now. I hope the world for her. I hope no one hurts her.

I’m not her girl anymore. Someone else will be her girl. I am a fading memory now.

It hurts.

But nothing was ever on our side, and she deserves to be happy. She loves so completely. She deserves to feel that in return – forever and always. I just wish the ache would stop. But I think a little part of my heart is dying without her. I will be strong for her. I will let her have peace from me.

I will always remember her.

I will always love her.

Worn Panties?

Attempting to re-enter the dating scene I find myself ungodly bored with all of it.  Sick of viewing pictures of the same stuck up, pretentious men.  Sick of reading the same bullshit lines about wanting a girl who ‘takes care of herself’.  Seriously, why don’t they just say ‘I’m looking for a fucking twig, no one else need apply’.  I’m sickened by the amount of men who stick to this gross idea of beauty.  But it is what it is, and frankly I don’t want a prick that thinks anything less than curvy is gorgeous!

I used to spend hours at the gym every night.  And do you know what I had time for with that lifestyle?  No one!  My life revolved around keeping those two hours set aside for the gym every night.  It’s fun.  But honestly when I live my life with a partner, I want my life to be about myself and my partner together. 

My ex and I used to go to the gym together.  And he’d watch t.v. and laugh.  Hang with his pals and show off.  Really, it was not any bit considered quality time. If anything it made me miss him more because our time was more spent apart in site of each other than together.

So, to all those assholes who feel the need to emphasize a girl’s ability to ‘take care of herself’ on their profile… all they are truly looking for is a girl with a high metabolism.  And all I can think is ‘good fucking luck’ because in the good ole’ U. S. of A. girls with hips are more in abundance.

To add to my boredom on the dating scene I recently ran into the sexiest situation I’ve endured in YEARS!!  Yes, my friends, years!  I posted some panties and a matching bra to sell online.  This stuff was new with tags and had zero sexuality added to the sales pitch.  I just wanted to make a few bucks off of something I will never wear.  Simply.

But I received a message back from someone asking what else I might have available.  I mentioned the numerous other pairs of panties I have, with tags.  They pushed further saying clearly I had some style and the natural curves to fill the panties I was selling, but wondered what used items I had.  Finding this rather curious, I acknowledged and offered some of the soon-to-be-tossed panties I have in the back of my drawer. 

He then admitted his gender… admitted his interest in these newly mentioned items… and the desire not only to purchase them but to have them freshly worn upon purchase.  I was totally skeeved out!  But given my current financial situation I bit the bullet and decided to play along. 

He mentioned a lap dance, getting closer, watching me remove these panties, etc.  Okay, ya’ll know I’m not a damn church choir girl here.  I’ve been naughty.  This shit is just about right up my alley, but I don’t know this dick from Adam.  I don’t know how old he is… what he REALLY wants to do to me… how far he is willing to go, etc. 

My mom points out the obvious… that this is a cop and I’m setting my ass up to get placed in jail.  Dually noted, but seriously, I was just trying to sell a brand new pair of unworn panties, I didn’t ask for any of this shit!! And I’d happily cry entrapment should it come down to it. 

We chat playfully back and forth.  As much as I’m becoming turned on by this entire idea, I’m also confused by his disinterest in texting me.  I’m thinking he has got to be married.  Fair enough, I think, as long as he doesn’t touch me… I can live with myself.  I avoid his every attempt to get closer or see a little more from me.  Following some due diligence.  I set up a safe exchange location.  I tell a coworker where I will be.  I even gave her his phone number should I disappear mid-exchange. I was ready for almost anything.  Except… that!!!

He was fucking gorgeous!  He met me with a glowing smile.  If I wasn’t already in heat from knowing what was going down his eyes added to it.  He was sweet as hell… kind, careful, and sexy.  It was a delicious encounter.  I had already set all the ground rules… he couldn’t touch me, and we absolutely would not be somewhere alone.   I’d all but screwed myself out of this charming encounter.  Damn me!!!

And just as satisfying were his thoughts of me.  How beautiful, smart, sexy, and fun.  Argh.  Damn intelligence, due diligence, and safety!!!  I wanted him, instantly!

We texted… all… day!  He had me… all that he wanted me, he could have me.  But suddenly he was smarter… he knew better and he wasn’t giving in.  He knew I’d fall like a sinker for him.  So I keep wondering… why can’t hot, curve-loving men like this one be on the damn dating sites?  Why do all these sexy 30 year old men think they are too damaged? Fuck that baby, I know damage and it is not anywhere near him. 

Suddenly the standard dating site is ten times more boring.  Blah!!!  Booooo-rrrr-iiinng asshole... they all are compared to Mr. Wants-My-Panties.  And since then he has been stuck in my head.  I just keep wishing I hadn’t been so safe.  I’m also looking further into this worn-panty selling business.  I joined a site.  We shall see how this goes.  Anyone have any advice, on either front?

Rebuilding...

Our relationship has started over in a way. It is a whole new beginning... sad in some ways, happy in others. It is like starting over with fresh eyes and planning to be stronger and smarter. Knowing each other's weaknesses and strengths we have more to grow on.

I am scared in a hundred new ways. And my sense of his devotion and love for me is blurred almost beyond recognition. When we started... it was with a bang. He fought for me, fought to have me. I felt so special, loved, desired, wanted, and needed. I feel the love coming back day by day, litte by little. There are glimmers of moments when I feel wanted. But to feel special, desired, or needed... I wonder if those feelings will ever come back. And I wonder if I could survive intact without them.

I feel as though I am begging him to want me. I feel as though I am fighting for him. I understand he needs to see some of this. I walked out repeatedly because of my own fears and emotional methodic instabilities. He needs to know I won't do that. He needs to know that I love him to the ends of the earth. He needs to see that I believe in him more than anyone ever will. I have to give him back the faith in me and us. But first, he has to see that I am who I have always been. There are no head games and there never will be. I am not the type to play petty games. I am real, as is my love for him!

In giving him what he needs I begin to wonder if I am forfeiting some piece of myself. I know I have needs. He is holding back in fear and doubt, but will he ever be the man I first met, again? Will he come back to being the supportive, giving man he was from the day we met. It's funny to me... he said repeatedly, "I show who I really am from the beginning so that you won't be confused about who I am later". I am confused... very confused. The entire definition of who we are has evolved.

I'd say I have been me from the beginning. I've been scared, overly honest, emotional, somewhat irrational, highly sexual and extremely passionate. I am still that person. The only difference is that I am trying to manage my ill-timed panic attacks and careless temper. Trying to be the person I really want to be, with the man I want to be it with.

I want to make love to him more than ever. This seal that I have only felt with him. There has not been one man in my life that has made me feel the way I feel when my naked body is pressed against his. I love feeling him, seeing him, seeing his reactions, seeing him see me, hearing him... all of it has made this perfect connection I have never felt before. A connection sweet, powerful, and meaningful enough to be classified as 'making love'. A feat I could never make happen with my husband.

I'm afraid to need anything and I find myself trying to give everything. I don't know where the balance is... I guess that is why relationships are so much work. A balance of two.

I want to be his number one. I hope that I am not rebuilding to be number two or three on his list. I was hurt by my father who told me I would never come first to him when I was eleven. And hurt by my mother who proved I was not her number one by staying in an abusive home for years. I fear I will not be his. I've never been anyone's number one. Maybe I never will. But for now... I am just rebuilding... praying we make that beautiful castle I long for. I hope he still wants that too.

Eroticized Water

Ok, so I'm going swimming today. My cousin invited me out on the boat with her and her father. I dove at the opportunity. I absolutely love water. How could I not, I am a water baby after all. I love feeling the cool silky sensation surround every inch of my body. And when it's hot out, truly nothing could be better.

My confusion comes mainly from my past experiences from water. Inching my way down the beach with someone beside me. Lowering those sensative parts in one damn millimeter at a time. Until finally you jump in head first and get it all over with. I am well padded so I float effortlessly. I feel so free in the water. I swim a few strokes and then... then it's on!

I get near him. Crouching down in the water under him as he stands above me is so completely sexy to me. Tip-toeing closesr until I can run my hands up his thighs and I do. Tugging lightly at the elastic band of his suit... staring up at him as he's looking down at me... inches from where we both want me to be... my bobbing breasts grazing his thighs. And the second I have him on his knees at my water level ... my legs wrap around his waist and all four of our hands begin to explore what is unseen due to the murk of the water.

This happens to me so much... this overwhelming sexual desire that comes from being in water and near someone so sexy. I feel a little naughty, afterall, most swimming areas are public and that means children everywhere. But if you can keep it unseen... is there truly a harm here? Each time I think I will be a good girl, but lets be frank here, I won't be. And oh my god, it is so much fun!! Clearly the swimming can't last long at this rate. We're lucky if we can make it home. Might have to just take him in the car seat. ;) Either way clothes will be coming off!

Of course I love skinny-dipping... and I love going out late at night when the beach is deserted and doing everything I wanted to do in the water when there was daylight. But is something wrong with me? How could water make me so overwhelimingly hot? Does water do this to anyone else? Or should I just chalk this up to being a nympho?