As I have said before, the only man I have any interest in sexually is my husband. In fact, the thought of other man naked makes my skin crawl. But women, on the other hand, fascinate me.
I love a woman with curves to die for, perfectly proportioned with skin that begs to be kissed all over. I love to caress specific lines along her body, along her collar bone, around the curve under her breast, down her waist to hip bones that stick out ever so slightly. I love women in their underwear, feeling proud of their shapeliness, stockings covering their legs, feet bound in gorgeous shoes, peep toes, heels, mary janes. I adore the softness of their touch, the sweet taste of their kiss, the unspoken understanding. I fantasise and desire to feel their warmth against me. I miss something but at the same time, don't want to destroy the idea I have in my head.
There are a few real women in my life I would love to have a little extra fun with but they will remain the objects of my desire, secretly dreamt about, painful longing in my heart.
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