About the Man by the Wife
|
Posted:Feb 23, 2019 7:08 am
Last Updated:Feb 23, 2019 7:08 am
1036 Views
|
I love to blog. I am a published writer under a different, private name. A real author as in no self-publishing. My work has been published in literary magazines, journals, and websites. I worked for two years as a journalist and photographer. I am relatively successful at what I do now.
There is a brain behind the blonde.
Sorry, guys or bi-curious friends looking for something different.
I want to write about the man, and how we hope to be successful here as a couple just starting out. He’s not going to write about himself, and I’ve read through some of the profiles for what people want in a male: completely in shape (six pack) and no body hair.
Friends, I hated body hair at 23.
I liked men with just a little weight, not fat, but who looked strong like they could protect me. It was a turn on.
I too thought: Shoot, I’d never date a guy over 50.
Then I had some change of life experiences. Guys I dated when I was in my early twenties were always stuck on the X-box or another gaming device. My first husband was blonde, one year younger than me, and had a flat stomach. My current husband, 32 years older than him, could outpace him, and climb walls. If you’re lost in the woods, my husband can get out without a GPS. You go into the woods, and you’re without, he’ll make it with a match and a pocket knife.
While I attended college the first time, I had two crushes on men much older than me before my current husband. One was in his early forties. The other in his sixties.
Why?
They know shit about life.
They had a sexuality more powerful than men my age with a six pack and a can of beer. Wow, you want a blow job while you watch TV? Okay, no. These men were educated, and not dirty old men. One was an editor. He never knew I had a crush on him. He was confident and cocky without being an X-box dick. (No pun intended.) He had his Scotch on his bar, and kept his house pristine. He’d worked as a correspondent and journalism professor.
The other man was a professor older than my husband. He had toured in blues’ bands, and played harmonica. He carried a vigor and knowledge of life about which I had not clue at the time.
My husband and I talked about how hard it would be to find a couple or experiences to share as we are a team. We know the realities with our age differences.
I thought: Why don’t I do what I do best?
Write.
I won’t give away everything on this first post about him, but when I met him, I was miserable in my first marriage. He led me away from that flat stomach, British, blonde first husband on mine because he was funny. He hinted at sex in ways that left you yearning to know more about his experiences. He wasn’t uncouth. He was playful, flirted, and was adventurous. On the first night we went on a sort of date outside of work, he stood behind me in the middle of a busy road, so I could take pictures of Christmas lights mixing with car lights to create a visual effect.
He was—and is—able to talk about multiple subjects with depth without being too much of a history professor, and his eyes—they’re a blue with green mixed in just like the mountains in summer he loves.
Why this?
I’d like to experience another man, but it comes with the understanding, my husband is nearby. I’d love to watch him flirt with another woman. We want to have some fun, but start the journey together.
|
|
0
Comments
|
|