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Tabu Toypro

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Reply with quote  #1 
from Sexie Sadie's Stories of Seduction: Confessions From My Open Marriage blog

In the recent past, I have (admittedly) needed to meet Hubby's girlfriends in order to assuage a certain level of jealousy on my part. To rule out the possibility that Hubby might dump me in favor of a sweeter, sexier, smarter, spunkier version of Sadie.


As if!

Yes, now that I have become certain that this scenario is highly unlikely, I haven't, until recently, needed or desired to meet Hubby's most recent secondary partner, Hot Young Girlfriend.



But she and I have been chatting via our blogs and there is a possibility she might be moving here to our city to go to grad school, and so these little bits of information and communication got me thinking that maybe it would be a good idea for us to at least get to know each other, so I extended to her an invite to meet. And we did so on Saturday night.


My family lives in Hot Young Girlfriend's city, and Hubby and I have tons of friends there, so we blew into town for the weekend for the sake of socializing. The night that I met her, I decided that we should rendezvous at the bar that my ex (Tyler) manages because I wanted to see him, however briefly. The bar turned out to be populated with shitloads of arrogant thirty-thousand-dollar-millionaires. I was terribly annoyed by the clientele and uber tired from being at the pool all afternoon. In retrospect I wish I could have met her when I was feeling a little spunkier myself.


But she walked up to where we stood on the balcony of the bar holding a silk red rose adorned with teeny hand-placed rhinestones. As she shot me a smile, she handed me the rose before she leaned in for a hug. She's a smart cookie, that one. The rose did the trick. I was instantly smitten.


I was never nervous about hanging out with her, there in a bar, as I sipped my diet Coke surrounded by douchewads of both genders; most of whom were drunk and all of whom were drinking. I had Hubby and a couple of friends as a buffer, to allay the perceived intensity of meeting this pretty and quite petite 24-year-old, large-breasted burlesque dancer who is also a writer, like me, and who adores my husband, like me. Yes, the friend-buffer helped even though the two people, both of whom are male and over 40, could not (would not?) stop from salaciously eyeing her ample bosom.


Ahhh.... men. They are such 'tards sometimes, yes?


But it was all good. Hot Young Girlfriend was sweet. She was chatty. She was jovial and she was coherent (couldn't say the same for most of the other women around there.) In short, we got along quite well, and I believe that she determined that Sadie is as like-able in person as she appears to be here in the blogosphere. But of course, this is not for me to say.


And my opinion of her-- that she is an attractive, intelligent, dynamic young woman who has found herself involved in an unorthodox relationship with a very cool but happily married man-- has been solidified as such.


And when we left the bar, Hubby walked with her to get her car out of valet (at my suggestion,) and I went to our car to wait for him. And as I sat alone, I did an internal check ~


Does my husband love me steadfastly? -- Yes!


Am I hot, too? -- Yes!


Do I have brains and wit and charisma? -- Yes, yes and yes!


Am I young and possessed of huge breasts? -- Ummmm.... nope.


And so I found myself hung up on my age and my small-by-comparison C-cup breasts for approximately 15 minutes. And then I let it go. Because I could. And because I should. And because there was no fucking point in me tripping over anyone's tits.


And because really, youth and boobs may make a woman fuck-able, but they don't make her like-able.


No.


Bringing a thoughtful gift to your boyfriend's wife makes one like-able.


As does being the (fuck-able) wife who's in the position to accept it.

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