Tuesday, March 22, 2005

The One-Armed Husband Bandit Strikes

Dear Jane,

Well, it had to happen eventually -- the collarbone had to heal, and the sling had to come off.

After the on-doctors-orders of 6 to 8 weeks of fiddling around one-armed and fully clothed, the first article of clothing to come off was the sling.

All of this not-naked playtime was actually the most fun I've had with any guy since the Ex. It made me take stock of all the dating experiences I've had, and the verdict was pretty glum. I realized just how perfunctory dating has become. You meet someone, you go out for a drink or dinner, and almost as if you are making ticks on a checklist, you proceed to the brief makeout session, then the mandatory feel-up, the optional blow-job, then right into bed!

So, the adolescent-style makeout sessions, complete with dry humping and hickeys, were a blast.

But when the first opportunity for sorta-naked festivities arose, I actually found myself feeling a little shy. See, as I mentioned in an earlier posting, I'm not exactly a calendar pinup. I do respectably well in the looks and body department, but I'll be the first to admit to having serious body-image issues. So serious, that I really don't know what I look like in or out of clothes any more. At some point, I just stopped looking at myself beyond perfunctory "am I clean, is my hair tidy, do I have eye boogers" kind of way. Putting on makeup had become more of a zen ritual than any real effort to be more attractive.

Anyhow, your husband seemed, well, just so delighted to be taking the clothes off me. And frankly, he was really, really happy to spend lots, and lots, and lots of time kissing me and all the areas of my skin that had been neglected for oh so long.

And by the same token, I delighted in taking the clothes off him. Actually, I was relieved to get rid of those damn Dockers and billowy shirts. (I'm prone to saying things to him like, "Hey, I like your blouse." Your husband's chest is nicely furred, and even the stole he wears year-round on his shoulders doesn't bother me all that much. He's just so substantial. There's a lot of him for me to put my arms around; a lot of him for me to explore...


Post a Comment

<< Home