Reality and Fantasy
I really really like girls. I never admit that in real life, but even though I try not to look in a noticeable way, I am fascinated by the curvature of a girls shirt. Okay – I’m shallow, but I really don’t even remember what a breast looks like. I know I’ve seen a couple when I was single but the image doesn’t stay with you. I’m married and my wife is one person out of a billion and doesn’t have breasts. Surprise – we’re not allowed to watch porn either. She is religious and you can be sure nothing is going to happen in our house that the pope wouldn’t approve of.
It’s a long story but when we were dating, she took the time to work past my anxiety and I became pretty good at sex (I think). Though I realized the performance thing would have to start over with each girl because one weekend she went to Disneyworld with some others I went drinking with and spent the night with a girl I knew. She had huge breasts but the nipples were very wide and they didn’t look that great. Anyway, I was nervous again in bed. I later broke up with the girl and of course soon realized my prospects were limited. I freaked out when the only girl that seemed interested starting sounding me out to make sure I WAS a racist. I begged for the girl back and though was very unsure during the engagement, I just couldn’t do that to her. After we were married I worked up the courage to float the idea of breast work to her. Oh boy – not happening!
I don’t think she even noticed when her sister went through a horrible divorce, got a boob job and then landed a fantastic guy for life. She’s got a blind spot there. The fact is though, girl would be out of my league if she had that done. She just wants to be loved. I should try harder.