Youre Going To Let Me Love You

I was having a lot of self-confidence issues, especially since my husband and I were talking about opening up our marriage so I could explore my bisexuality, and fulfill some of our joint fantasies if possible. I couldn't help comparing myself to the girls that didn't look like me. The ones with the small perky tits that kept popping up on my feed. The ones with the flat stomachs and the thigh gaps. It seemed like all the girls my husband followed were petite and doll-like. My body has always been curvy and at the time I didn't really feel confident in it.

A lot has changed since then, but at the time I was an insecure and hormonally imbalanced mess. He was away on a business trip and he asked me to send him some sexy snaps. I probably took a hundred pictures from every angle, in every lighting, and hated every single one. He facetimed me asking where the pictures were and I started crying. I told him how I didn't feel sexy and how I won't ever have the single handful tits he wants or the slim thighs with the perfect gap (my thighs are thick and put on muscle easily; they're made to crush watermelons and smother faces and I fully accept and love them now).

He let me vent to him for a few minutes, getting it all out in the open. He didn't interrupt me trying to convince me I was sexy or that he loved my boobs, he just listened to me. When I was finally done, there was a long bit of silence before he said "I want you to write a list of 10 things you love about your body. I could write a thousand things, so I think you can come up with 10. I'll help you. What's one thing?"

I thought for a long time. I was in such a self-destructive mental state that it really was a struggle to think of something positive. Finally I said "My eyelashes." They were naturally long and thick, I always got compliments on them.

He spent probably 30 minutes on the phone with me, helping me write a list of 10 things I loved about myself. The list was:

1. My eyelashes

2. My earlobes

3. The angle of my nose

4. My cheekbones

5. The shape of my thumbs

6. My nipples but only when they're hard

7. My wrists

8. My ankles

9. The beauty mark on my neck

10. The scar on my thigh

At the end of the conversation, he asked me to send him a picture of the list. Once he received it, he instructed me to write "I love ____. I am beautiful." for each item on the list 10 times and to have the lines completed by the time I picked him up from the airport the next evening. I protested, realizing it was going to be 100 lines. But I could tell how important it was to him and I wanted to please him. I said I'd try to do it for him. We said good night, he said he loved me and that he was looking forward to seeing me tomorrow with my completed task.

I put on Spirited Away, a movie that always makes me feel better, and started writing the lines. It was frustrating at first, and embarrassing. But after a while I started to actually feel better about myself. I wasn't sure if I was brainwashing myself by writing out "I am beautiful" 100 times, or if it was the fact that I was married to a man who cared enough about me to ask me to do it. Either way, I went to bed smiling with all 100 lines completed.

The next evening I went to pick him up at the airport and I laid the papers on the passenger seat for him to see when he got in the car. He put his luggage in the trunk and opened the passenger door, picking up the papers and scanning the lines while smiling. He gave me a soft and heartfelt "Good girl" before giving me a kiss and buckling his seatbelt. We drove home and talked about his trip and the flight, I craved the mundane details of his life while he was away.

When we got home he took me into his arms for a long embrace. "I love you," he said. He kissed my forehead and handed my lines back to me. "I want you to take these and go wait on the bed for me. Get undressed completely and lay down. I'll join you in a few minutes. Okay?"

I nodded, taking the paper and making my way to the bedroom. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but I was excited to have his full attention. I didn't think he was going to spank me, he didn't seem to have that energy about him. I had a feeling we were about to have incredibly intimate and intense sex. After not seeing him for a week, I was fluttering with anticipation.

I laid on my stomach, completely naked, with the lines laid neatly in front of me. I scanned the pages while I waited, admiring my own handwriting. He opened the door and paused in the doorway, his steely blue eyes tracing my naked curves before locking onto my gaze. "You're beautiful," he said softly, causing me to drop my eyes. How was I still shy around him? We've been married for two years.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He carefully opened it up, flattening the creases. "I wrote my own list," he said. He stayed in the doorway while he read it to me. It was a mix of obscure details ("the freckle on your right shoulder"), common descriptive features ("your deep brown eyes"), and a large amount of sexy attributes ("your jaw dropping rack", "your red ass after a spanking", "the look you give me when my cock is in your throat"). I couldn't help but giggle at a few of them. My heart was soaring the whole time. When he was done, he walked over to me and handed me the paper. I stared at it, tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't know what to say other than "Thank you."

He pushed my hair behind my ear and used his thumb to wipe away a single tear that escaped down my cheek. "I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are to me. I want you to lay on your back with your arms above your head and your legs spread open."

I shook away the tears in my eyes and did as he asked. He used the restraints attached to the bedframe to cuff my wrists. He kissed each wrist and traced the shape of my thumbs with his fingers, calling attention to the features I listed. He restrained my legs next, cuffing my slender ankles and running his hands up the full, muscled curve of my calves. His fingertips traveled further, drawing hot lines along my inner thighs. My body was aching for him. His hand lingered over my jagged scar and I thought about how far I'd come since the day I gave myself that scar, over 15 years ago. He kissed it gently and his fingers kept moving, stopping again at my nipples. He played with my right nipple between his fingers while taking my left nipple between his lips, flicking it with his tongue until both stood up to attention. He kissed both areolas, leaving them slick and vulnerable to the cool air which only hardened them more.

He kept moving, up to my neck, brushing his lips against the length of it and circling my beauty mark with his tongue. He found my earlobes next, sucking on each one and sending waves of pleasure through me. My ears were always so sensitive. He kissed each one of my cheeks at the fullest part and rubbed his nose against mine in an eskimo kiss. Finally, he lowered his face so our eyelashes were touching and fluttered his against mine. A butterfly kiss. His smile widened as he did it and I let out a soft and affectionate laugh. I felt so unfathomably and unfairly loved.

I wanted to return the attention to him so badly, to kiss his cheeks and run my hands over his muscles, down his torso... but I couldn't move. My hands and feet were restrained. I realized now the reason he restrained me, he knew I wouldn't be able to accept the attention without trying to give it back ten-fold. I struggled against the restraints.

"You're going to let me love you," he said. He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, then worked his way back down the way he came, giving all of my favorite features even more attention than before. He settled between my legs and used his fingers to gently open my labia, exposing how much I enjoyed his treatment. He lifted my hips upward and pressed his lips to my clitoris while slipping two fingers inside of me, massaging the inside while licking the outside. It didn't take long before I was moaning loudly, shuddering in my restraints and against his face, my body melting into one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had. He stayed between my legs as I continued to ride the climax, my ragged breaths slowing towards the end.

He undressed and removed my restraints, allowing me to return the attention to him. Usually our sex is rough and primal (by choice), but that night it was soft, romantic, and intensely intimate. I'll never forget it.