I remembered every night i took my clothes off for others to see---my fats, my stretch marks, and my scars. They did look at me with lust and i replied with wet kisses.
Every moment felt so amazing.
Every moment was a bliss.
Until we needed to finish and keep our bodies hidden to the world.
It was okay at first---putting clothes on individually; but there will come a guy that will do the same but instead, he will kiss the top of my shoulder closest to him---gentle soft kisses of promises of taking care of me; will wrap his arms around the fat belly full of guilty pleasures and he will pull close to hug keeping me safe. Until he's satisfied with the gestures, he'll lock everything with a kiss on the lips of longing for love whilst helping snapping the lock on the bra; pulling panties up to cover what mess he made; cover the shown skin with clothes for the world to see that he's taking good care of me.
He'll look deep in my eyes without any word, it screams he's happy with my company---not just sex. Not just because I'm a woman. But because it is me.
He chooses me.
