I’ve literally just finished reading an article on XOJane.com and I HAD to share it! I would normally just post the link but it hit me so hard I simply have to share the whole thing. It’s an article about an email from a man to his girlfriend after her body issues had an impact on one of their sexual encounters. I want to share it wherever I can and scream from the rooftops: Don’t let your own insecurities get in the way of the abundance of pleasure you can get from letting go and letting someone love you and your body the way you deserve.
I’ve always had insecurities in the throws of passion and for the most part, I try to ignore them and have fun in the moment. I lead a generally healthy life in the bedroom and don’t often let my issues get the better of me. Unless, of course, I’m with someone that for some reason I feel I’m unworthy to enjoy. And when that happens I focus almost entirely on my partner. That way, I’m busy with his body so he needn’t be busy with mine (unless he’s so inclined). What I’m really doing here, is forcing them focus on their pleasure in an effort to compensate them for having to be with someone like me. I mean, nobody wants to fuck a fat chick right? Well, that’s wrong. Just, wrong. It’s self deprecating, destructive and just plain damaging to your self esteem.
Here’s one perspective and what it’s like to be with a big chick. Read it all. It’s worth it:
“I wrote this earlier today, about a half-an-hour after talking to you on the phone. I wasn’t sure if I should send it but I am going to anyway.
You are a woman of size.
As I’ve stated before, your body—its size and shape—is something I find attractive. Last night I found it attractive in this way:
I had a great hard-on and desire to fuck you.
You lay on my bed, your soft, copious and aroused shape beneath me, its feel on my lips, soft and tender, but buzzing, and breathing—smaller girls being less of an asset here because there is so much less to taste and feel. You kiss a smaller woman’s skin from shoulder to breast and you are there in seconds, but with you there is much more to explore, the width of your chest, the length of your stomach allowing me more time in all honesty to build myself up, to feed, to touch and turn myself on, than with a small girl’s body.
This is a turn-on because I get off on feeding, on sucking in and bringing out my lover. I imagine in the night my cock slowly slipping into your mouth and me, facing downward, kissing you from your breasts to your cunt, your lavishness, sweet long and soft belly, bringing you up and out, pushing through your insecurities about your waist, lighting you up, and tugging an orgasm from your clit like a snake quietly and steadily wrapping itself around its prey. I like to take my time, like an addict smokes his opium. And small girls just do not have enough drugs on their bones for me.
This, in your case, is an asset, an arousal, that I am finding true—as true as I suspected—that as a woman of size, as someone who is physically larger than me, I can feel like the parasite, the lovely disease, invading warmly and honestly the body of its prey. But just to be clear, just in case this sets off some alarms and self-doubt, I am a complete snob when it comes to my drugs. I do not eat poor meat.
My mind and body associates your sexuality, your very sexuality, your lust for sex, your lust for me, with your size. I see your body, your hips, your “thunder thighs,” not as mutated and enormous obstacles surrounding an otherwise ought-to-be lithe and perfect interior shape, but as the lusty physical expression of a true physical desire.
When I am on top of you, when I drag my tongue across your warm waist, when you fuck me from on top and your squishy (yes, squishy) legs push down on me, I am tasting and encountering the desire of a full and curvaceous, truly horny woman’s body and soul, a need that pours out onto me, that expresses wildly and severely and sweetly the need of you to fuck me, or to just fuck. I see your shape—I have always seen your shape (yours, you) –as the expression of a woman whose flesh has its own way and will and character.
And this is very important to state: when I am trying to fuck and taste you, when my lips are against the white and soft and squishy parts, those parts do not react like a hidden, obscured and submerged body within a trap of flesh. They react, as your voice reacts, as a hot and active and salty broad flint, as a whole and active ass and large and squirming set of legs in the throws of sex, like something alive and pulling me in, pulling me in and wanting me to turn on and take you to the moon. They behave like a real body. There is no separation to me. I do not need to overcome something. I want to bury myself into you.
Yes, you have a stalwart body, but you also have a feminine body, a vulnerable body, that I can push into, not just against. There are soft spots, secretive spots, folds and active exposed spaces. You have delicate, aroused and pointed flesh, places to grab and press into, to pinch and pull and scrape and bite. Like that first night when I grabbed you and pulled you in—I love that feeling—that feeling, like my hand on your breast, that there is so much more than I can contain. So I must make love to it, I must pour myself out to you and enter you. To find the secrets. And grab on so tightly that the blood is squeezed to the surface. I don’t just want a brick to throw myself against (I do want that sometimes, of course, as I long to feel that power, that body’s full measure and lust to throw itself again me). What I also want is a world to explore.
So, yes, I am smaller than you. And I like that advantage we both have. As a top, I like the challenge of pushing you down. But I also like the sight of this gorgeous and voluptuous woman submitting to my body, my work, my cock, and feeling my ass because she wants to.
I feel like a sinister and devious burglar, breaking into something truly beautiful, crawling in beneath the beautifully scented and inhabitable flesh, (the curve of your sides making me want to tear you open and go in and go deeper and deeper) showing a true woman (god I’m a cheeseball) what an extraordinary cock I have, what excellent and devilish fuck skills are inside me.
Your lust is as your size is—big and overwhelming and womanly and oh, so fully developed. You are a fully sized and fully developed woman to me. You have always been. A rich and curvy and plush and bursting, devious, sweet cunt machine. I can’t help it, as I said before, there is so much beautiful, female, fuckable and enterable body to you, a body that is the perfect fit to your personality, just as mine, I suspect, is to mine.
And I love to slide on top of you, to push into you, and feel your body react. It is an animated and rich body, like biting into flesh and tasting fruit, tasting a strawberry, tasting blood. Your skin is so beautiful, and the flesh beneath it so rich and deep.”
To say I’m moved it a complete understatement. There are literally tears streaming down my face while I sit here in awe at the eloquence with which this man communicated his love/lust for his very own plus-size princess. It was steamy and sexy and overflowing with desire. It’s exactly what every rubenesque woman needs to believe their partner is feeling. Because they do. They want you. Every fat fucking inch of you! So, let go of your demons, get in the groove and ride that stallion til you’re both breathless, red in the face and satisfied. You might just see yourself through their eyes and from what you’ve just seen, it’s a (big) beautiful view.