So those of you who have met me will know that I’m a pretty big guy (Rubenesque, one might say). This means that on a daily basis I struggle with the concept of ‘sexy’ and feeling ‘sexy’.

It’s not helped by being bombarded with images of the 6 foot tall, bronzed, six-pack toting DEMIGODS*. I get it, it’s ‘sexy’ but not all of us are that way (at least, not yet). So when I went hunting for some risqué underwear for the bedroom, I nearly locked myself away in a dark room forever. It seems that no one seems to cater to the ‘heftier’ guy – the one with the belly and the slightly saggy arse, because it’s just not ‘attractive’.

And then I thought to myself, well who am I trying to please really? My husband (bless him) tells me I’m sexy every day and of course, he has to say that because he’s my husband. But deep down inside, I’m just secretly wishing that I could just be that little bit more… Grrrrrrr!

So I found some underwear that might accommodate my bodacious booty, and lo-and-behold – they fit! Just. I felt like a complete TIT in them, because instead of the V-shape and the lovely little treasure trail, there are stretch marks and a cake shelf. Yes, a cake shelf (I totally stole that from Sarah Millican). How on earth would he find me sexy in them if I didn’t think I felt sexy in them?

I’d just taken a long hot soak in the tub, and as I was in the bedroom getting ready, I popped my new pants on and gave them a twirl. One thing I did like about them was how they framed my chunky butt – it made it look a little bit rounder and less… well, like a sack of potatoes. In a moment of madness, I snapped a picture. And then another. And another. And for 45 minutes I was throwing myself round the bedroom, trying to take pictures that wouldn’t cause the other half’s phone to scream out and switch off when it received them.

With a bit of creative editing (i.e. some more ‘flattering’ filters), I slipped a couple into his inbox (oooer!). The reply came back promptly. As I stand in the bathroom, he sneaks up quietly behind me, wraps his arms around my waist and begins to kiss my neck. Perhaps they weren’t so bad after all. I turned and went back into the bedroom and lay on the bed. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen, I just was goofing around.

He took a quick shower, and then gently lowered himself on top of me, so I could feel him between my butt cheeks. As he nibbled my ears and kissed my neck, I arched my hips and leaned into him, and I could feel him press back. And before long, I was reaching for the lube…

Afterwards, I collapsed face first into the bed, still reeling. I could feel his warm load inside. I was hot, sweaty and I was trying to catch my breath. He collapsed down next to me and held me close. I felt incredible. I hadn’t even had an orgasm myself, and yet… I still felt extremely fulfilled and ‘spent’. It was just amazing. “So, the underwear was a good call then?” I smiled. He just looked at me with his soft eyes and said “VERY good call…” And that’s when it hit me. I need to stop worrying about what other people might think. If I’m sexy enough for him, then that’s all that matters. And you know what, I AM sexy in my own way. And I don’t need any silly bits of string to make me feel sexy. He does that enough for me already.

Untitled-1

*yes, I get the irony of using ‘sexy’ headers for these posts