Bare Ass Painting

One of the good things about our kids being grown and gone is our privacy.  At any given time, one or both of us is likely walking around naked.

In our D/s relationship, this is very symbolic of our lives these days.  We have exposed our deepest selves to each other.  We don’t hide behind masks, false feelings or clothes for that matter.  Any false pretense is stripped away, quite literally.

It has taken a long time to figure this out and to get to this place.

It was time to paint the bathroom ceilings yesterday.   I removed a favorite t-shirt remembering how difficult it can be trying to remove paint from clothes.  Easy to get paint off skin, right?  Figured, what the hell, shorts don’t need paint on them either.

Curvey walks in to find a naked Sir standing on a ladder, bare ass painting.  She cat-called me.  (Wolf whistle, what ever you call it.)

I was highly offended!

How could she disrespect me like that?

Ha!  No, I wasn’t offended.   I loved it.   In fact, I believe we all love it when recognized by the opposite sex.

The righteous indignation by some these days I find disingenuous.  People seem to love to be the victim.

The rise of the #metoo movement shows that.  The real problem with false victims is they take away from real victims out there.  Yes, there are a lot of terrible things in this world.  Plenty of evil out there.

To claim to be a victim of evil when you really are not, that is also evil.  They hide their truth from all.  Most of all, they hide the truth of who they are from their very own selves.

So where was I?   Oh yeah.

Get naked with your girl as often as you can.  Expose your “finer points” for her to admire.  Then try and figure out how to get all that smeared paint off your bodies. Till next time…

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