I met a beautiful woman. I’m already hot for her and I haven’t even had a chance to get to know her. I’m nervous but excited all rolled into one. I keep fantasizing different scenarios in my head. I told my husband how I met her at the grocery store and we exchanged glances and flirtations. He seemed ok with it, so far. My toes are dipping into uncharted waters here and it thrills me to no end.
I have come out to a few more close friends recently and all the reactions have been only positive. I feel myself changing in ways too. I’m eating healthier, caring about how I look alot more, and I’m trying to keep up with ever flowing housework so that my home looks less like a teenagers closet and more like a home. The hard part is that every time I look better and primp, my husband is even more hot for me. Which would be fine, if he wasn’t already hot for me. If I lost any amount of weight and upped myself a point on the cute scale, he’d be following me around the house like a dog in heat. Not that he isn’t close to doing that already.
I know, I know, I should be thankful. I should just love that he fawns over me, but I don’t. Perhaps he’s spoiled me in attention. There could be some truth to that. Perhaps that I feel all the attention is primarily for sex and even though he is being sincere in his love for me, it’s coated with a motive. I cringe at the sink as he runs his hand into my jeans. I feel as if I could sometimes just be a body with no soul attached and he might not even notice. I have a hard time even giving him the time of day, let alone paying any close attention to him. If I do, it is taken as some open invitation to have sex.
“Hey honey, how was your day?” (Sit down on his lap.) “Mmmmmm, huh?” he says as he stares at my cleavage and then snakes his hand to my crotch. So I jump back up out of his lap and set off doing house work, talking from afar. He then sits in bewilderment why I don’t want to “chat” with him. I’ve told him that it’s not always about sex, but for him, unless it’s something that intrigues him, it’s gonna be about sex.
After cooking and cleaning I take my shower while fantasizing about my new friend “Chyna.” Hoping that this incredibly sexy woman woman isn’t a fluke. I start wondering if I’m even remotely pretty enough for her. She sure acts like it, but my insecurities start shining through, reflecting off her Crossfit abs and tanned skin.
I again bring it up in conversation that I met a woman who seemed to like me more than just friends and he asked me if it would just be a purely sexual thing. I said I wasn’t sure, but probably. Really though, how do you know? There’s some hot chemistry already there and we have only seen each other for less than an hour to just chat. I just wonder what would happen if we had some time to really get to know each other! I worry about it too. I don’t want to leave him FOR someone, but rather for myself, if that makes sense? I’m not looking for love so much as I am looking to validate what I almost am certain of in my heart. I think my husband is seeing it and understanding what I like more and more. He has no gumption to tell me no, but I know he’s scared that this road might lead me away from him. We haven’t even touched that yet. I think we are both scared to.
So for now, I am unabashedly flirting with her and hope that I haven’t completely blown off the lid to Pandora’s box, although I am most certain that I have. As a good friend put it, I have found a taste of “lesbian crack” and once I get it in my system, there’s no turning back. Honestly, I hope I don’t turn back. I hope it makes me see my world with a lot more clarity. Perhaps it’s more like “Lesbian Peyote.”