You were standing in the kitchen when I got home, putting away the last couple of bits of shopping. You heard me drop my keys in the bowl by the front door, and called out a hello, and I replied in kind.
“How was your day?”
“Antsy! Nothing in particular, just a low tolerance for for stupid people in supermarkets. Oh, and all the idiots seemed to be out on the roads today.”
I step up behind you and wrap my arms around your waist, nuzzling your neck.
“Well it’s chill time. I’ll make dinner in a bit. Risotto?”
“Mmmmm” is the only reply I get.
“If you’re antsy, does this help, or make it worse?” I ask as my left hand comes up to hold your right breast through your blouse. You release a quiet gasp and wriggle your hips into my groin.
I got up at the first buzz of the alarm this morning, rather than snoozing 4, or 5, or 6 times. You’ve done this for me more times than I can remember, and I’ve loved it, every single fucking time, but it’s never felt like a thing I could do for you. My body – men’s bodies – just aren’t made for this kind of sexy play. It feels different today. I can do this for you, and I know you’re going to love it, and I feel a new confidence in myself.
My body is sexy, not because of its youth, or its finely chiselled contours (because it has neither), but because I love you with it, with every inch of it, and you love it. That is the only acceptance I need. The same patriarchy that tells you that you’re not good enough also tells me that I can’t look at myself that way at all. Fuck. That. Shit. Continue reading Kink of the Week – Men in Panties