I suspect you have heard this before – the story of a young woman in their 30s who is happily married who lusts after some handsome stud and eventually succumbs to her own desires.
Well it happened to me couple of years back. And what’s interesting (at least to me) is that before these events happened, I’d have bet money that I’d always be faithful. That’s the thing about it.
You see, sexual desire is, I’ve found, at least 50% psychological. When a certain idea hits you, it stays up there and builds and builds whether you want it to or not, just like that dandelion in your grass.
I had an arranged marriage. I was pursued (because I’m attractive) by many, but when I dated, I dated seriously – always working toward long term relationships but made sure I have fun along the way. I only had casual sex in university and at the time I was in a relationship. My then bf didn’t know how many guys I was fucking behind his back.
While I was always open to sex with my boyfriends, casual sex in university and cheating that was a thing of the past and I always kept the wild side private. Not even my best friend new about the adventures I’ve had.
My name is K. I’m 5’4, brown (South Asian), curvy in the right places, and have long black hair. I’m currently 34 and don’t mind dressing sexy for my man. Like I said, I’m open about sex and sexuality however at this stage of my life I’ve never wanted the attention from anyone other than the guy I was with. I’m not saying I mind being checked out. I’m just saying it wasn’t a goal.
I realize that what happened to me was a psychological phenomenon. I became fixated – fixated on an idea. And I couldn’t move on. I was stuck on that idea.
It started at a office party. A group of girls were talking over the music in the corner of the room. I was one of the group. S told M that her new boyfriend looked cute. I didn’t even know which guy was hers, as they were several guys there that I didn’t know. You know how office parties are.
M just giggled and said “He’s alright I guess. He’s just big where it counts.”
We all laughed at that. But, as if being hit by lightning, I felt immediately turned on – even though there was no guy in my mind or view. It was the idea of a guy being “big where it counts.”
L in the group then joked, “So size matters, eh?” This was followed by more laughter. M just responded, “It has its advantages.”
At this point a few guys joined us, wondering what we were laughing about. Someone said, “Men. What else?”
The conversation continued. But the words had been imprinted on my brain – “Size Matters.”
The party went on. It wasn’t until about an hour later that I managed to figure out who M’s new boyfriend was. They were together with his hand resting on her butt. He was, as S had claimed, cute. Really cute.
I tried to be discreet, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at the front of his jeans. And there I saw his bulge. The bulge. Actually, I realized immediately that he was big and that I’d never experienced anything like it with my four guys.
I guess I just never had thought about it before. I don’t really know why it had such an effect on me. But I was really so turned on! I was actually flustered! Its not like I hadn’t heard the term ‘well hung’ before. The difference was this was the first time I’d personalized the idea – I hadn’t experienced a well hung guy – this was about me, personally.
The party eventually ended. I knew I’d never cheat. And I knew that even if I were single, I’d never mess with another girl’s guy. But the rest of that evening I don’t know how many times I caught myself looking at the front of this guy’s pants.
And on the drive home with my husband it was this image that was stuck in my mind.