Loving my Muffin Top
More Mediocre Sex
After having had more mediocre sex with a man, I’d been dating for a little over a month, I turned on my side and curled my back into him. It was my, I will still let you touch me, but only the back of me post-sex preferred cuddling position.
Not understanding the social code of this, he slid his hand across my hip and up to my belly. I wanted his hand to stay on my hip, it needed to stay on my hip, my hip felt round but not fat in this position. My stomach was a no-go zone for post-sex cuddling. I was like one of those Pillsbury Dough containers, spilling out the side in all the wrong ways. The dough boy is not at all sexy.
I grabbed his hand and put it on my boobs. I knew he was a boob man, and he would not pass up a free boob literally handed to him. But not this dude. He took one squeeze, like a constellation, “okay, I’ll pay attention to this,” and his hand went right back to my over-spilling belly and started to caress and knead.
I grabbed his hand again, a little more forcefully, and put it on my hip. He again took a squeeze and a slight pat, and his hand went right back to my goddam belly.
Instead of moving his hand, I did my best to pull in my now post-baby-separated abs and make it feel like I had some core.
