Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Feeling Sexy?

This is something I have been thinking about lately. I have been asking myself what makes me feel sexy? I know a lot of people take this for granted but for me, no, it hasn't been like that. For a start, when I grew up, feeling sexy wasn't a luxury that was bestowed on me.

When I was really little, before this question arose, so to speak, I was skinny and looked like a stick. A very small stick but a stick all the same. If I wore a short wide skirt I looked like an ostrich. I wasn't pretty or anything.

I remember a period when I found I wasn't looking as much as a stick any more and for a while I was quite pleased. I did have a bosom, although a small one, but a bosom.

Many women grow up knowing that they are sexy. They may be dissatisfied with this or that but somewhere they know that they are sexy. I don't know if they feel it, I mean, if they get the buzz or what to call it, from it, but they know they are attractive, know they are sexy. I never felt that way.

Felicia was a very quirky girl and weird in many ways but she was also immensely confident. She just didn't care. She was her own and didn't give a toss. I admired that and with her I got confidence and allowed myself to be different and a little quirky too.

It never made me feel attractive, not like she did. She seemed to know, inside her, that she was. I have always doubted myself.

With her this has been changing. First step, I guess, was to realise and accept that she found me attractive. I didn't believe her but she made me understand it was true all the same. There was one person to whom I was attractive...and sexy.

Still I didn't really feel it. It didn't made me feel sexy, it didn't give that tingling feeling in my body.

I know there are so much about this that I don't mention here. Touching, kissing, looking at a gorgeous red haired woman, hearing her say she is going to smack my bottom, all those sort of things make me all tingly but now I am talking about feeling sexy, in yourself, maybe when someone look at you or so.

I had this very private thing (I still blush to write it) about dancing. When I was alone, listening to good music (there are some really sexy music) I could dance and when moving my body, I could imagine I was sexy, like I could feel it was nice to be seen like that.

In reality I was stiff as a stick when out dancing, when other people were there. Alright, it worked when I was too drunk to appreciate it or with really good friends, but it never came easy.

My dear Felicia picked up on that and although she is generally cruel and mean she does want to help me. It was a long journey but I kind of got over my worst inhibition and I could dance with her and even allow her to look at me and sometimes I could feel that sensation in my body, I felt beautiful.

One day, some time ago now, she was sitting down, I was on the floor, dancing. She was watching me and she had that gaze that made me know she liked what she saw. I surfed on that feeling and let myself be watched.

Then she told me to stop. She looked at me and I knew she had something on her mind. She said that I should go on dancing, but not until I took my tunic off. I was wearing a kind of dress/tunic thing, that was rather short and now she commanded me to take it off.

It was a special moment and I decided to not listen to the voice that said I was being a silly girl that looked like a giraffe. Said and done, I slipped out of the dress and danced for her, dressed in knickers only.

It was like I was stripping for her, like I was on a stage and she was the audience. It was magic. I danced for her and I threw caution to the wind and let her watch me. I knew she saw me, my body and all that and I wouldn't let myself feel awkward.

It was one of those moments when you do something you are dead scared of and feel quite happy for being daring. I danced for her and I saw she liked it. I liked it too, I felt beautiful. I felt sexy.


jim said...

This is probably the sexiest piece of writing I have ever read here. I love the way the sexiness is in doubt and deferred, right to the moment its reality and truth burst through in the final sentence.

Many kisses xxxxxxx

Miranda said...

Dear Jim, you are very kind. For me it is like that, doubts and all that. But sometimes it is very nice.