Why is it that the same thing can be so damn exciting and exhilarating every time? Why doesn't it get old? Why does the heart beat race, the blood rush, the breathing quicken every time like it's the sexiest encounter in the world?
Who cares! I'm just glad it does.
OK a little more about the lingerie show. It really was a great feeling not being ashamed of my body. I've lost a bunch of weight just recently, and that combined with regular, strenuous exercise has left me pretty fit, so while I was modeling for Peter, I was feeling pretty comfortable about myself. Maybe some of that has come with age. Does being in your 30s make you mature enough to accept non-"perfection?" Maybe I should post a pic with my head cropped out. But my room might show up in my other blog, and I'm not ready for any connections to be made.
Arching towards ecstacy
Reaching
Reaching out with every fiber of your being
Blood racing
Breath ragged
Everything concentrating just there
Until the wave lifts
Carries you out past the edge
Rolling over you
Crashing down on top of you
Smashing you into shuddering spasms
Washing you away
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