Tuesday, July 17, 2012

i'm truly a voyeur ...

Papi is my chauffeur.

As much as he gets a little ruffled at the fact that he has to periodically drive me when I can't get a 'short bus', once we're in the car, it seems to be our only quality time alone these days.

Between The Uncle, The Yank and the many visitors we've been having due to The Great DR Purge, we don't get much alone time.

Yesterday, I thought I would accompany my love to the dump.

We make a lot of trips to the dump lately, and I know what those smelly dump boys are thinking when I don't get out of the car to help.

'Princess'.

No, it's not that, it's just that I had my sparkly silver flats on.  I don't need garbage gunk on my fave summer shoes!!!

Well, it's really because I shouldn't be shucking heavy items out of the car.  My bitch of a back would protest greatly.

Anyway, on our way yesterday, I noticed mi esposo smiling as he drove.

I didn't question it.

It's not unusual to see Papi smiling when he's getting rid of a load of crap.

But then I hear him say, "I like playing with my chest hair."

There he was pulling at his little chest hairs.

He wasn't pulling them all the way out of the root, he would just pull and let go, pull and let go, ad infinitum.

He was like a little boy sitting there in his comfort of playing obsessively with a toy.

I got a moment of sitting back and merely loving who he is.

He's just mi Papi, with a few changes to his body.

He used to pull on the facial jewelry he had, but he let those go.

Now it's all about his man hair.

It also gave me a moment to take stock of my current feelings about The Great Breast Disappearance.

I'm growing more comfortable with the loss of those pillows.

Still, I miss them.

I'll never get to touch them again.  They are only a memory of the feeling of that cool nipple against my cheek and the fullness of those perfect breasts in my gentle hands.

Even though my love has told me I could touch other people's breasts, it's just not my thing.

I love Papi.

I loved his Butch Tits greatly.

I had a dream the other day that we were at some swingin' party that Papi wanted to go to, and all I could do was look at everyone and say to myself, "But I don't want to do anything with any of them.  I only want mi esposo."

I made Papi chose for me in the dream.

Fortunately, other things happened so I didn't have to get busy with anyone else and wake up all fucked up like the time I dreamed I got down with Keith Urban.

Keith Urban?!?!?!

Really?!?!?!

I mean he's handsome, a great guitar player, has a gorgeous voice and great sense of melody, but I wouldn't be into anything more than a concert from him.

Back to the hair.

He's got these little teeny weeny hairs that are so damn cute.  They're not taking over his entire chest leaving him to look like a walking carpet.

Just some teeny tiny little whisps of hair that poke out in the sweetest, most innocent way.

He likes to play with his chest hair.

I like to watch.

i am becoming better every day

4 comments:

  1. Papi is so damn cute! I wish I could be so happy with my body, this ageing thing is pissing me off, I have a line on my lip a damn line like someone drew on me with a pencil WTF, just call me prune face hahaha

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. gettin' one between my eyes. you know? the 'angry' lines? usually from squinting while i bitch about my back.

      Delete

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