HNT - Half Naked Thighs

As reminded by the cheeky Waynecoff (who is indulging in a wank-free few weeks and so should not torment himself by reading on), it was National Stocking Day on Friday. So, to celebrate that fact, I prepared for my trip to visit Ruf by donning a pair of lacy-topped hold-ups and completed the outfit with a nice basque. Hidden under a denim skirt and a zip-up cardigan but flashing a nice bit of stockinged calf in my little suede boots, I was aware of the admiring glances in the Service Station half way into the drive.

It has taken Ruf an inordinate amount of time to finally get me to accept that I do not have fat thighs. He has pointed out on numerous occasions that he loves the lacy tops of hold-ups but particularly when they're on me as I have no muffin-top swelling out over the top and 'spoiling the line'.

When I said I wanted a 'stocking photo' for my blog, he spent nearly an hour trying to find a pose that showed off my pins in all their slender glory but which would also meet with my satisfaction.

So many poses were adopted, photographed and then rejected. One leg fatter than the other, looking deformed, knock-kneed or just generally too fat. I can picture him now, sat on the floor of his bedroom as I ummed and ahhed in front of the Magic Mirror, completely naked apart from his patient smile as he snapped away and had his labours sniffed at and decried. Bearing in mind that he hadn't even had a chance to sample the goods, he was remarkably good natured about the proceedings.

Until, finally, he lost patience and pushed me back onto the chair to have his way with me, stopping short of throwing the camera onto the bed in disgust as he looked down at me and took this last one...




Cue one much happier Cake because, even with the squidging of sitting down, he has made my thighs look passable.

What I love about this man is his ability to normalise everything. To help me to see myself through his eyes and not look askance at me as I make demands that to most men would seem quite ridiculous. The way he can take all the bodily functions that we have been exposed to over the last few weeks and make them immaterial. Stopping me from squirming with embarrassment at my body's errant timing. After all, what's one more bodily secretion?

We started with vanilla and we grew through chocolate and raspberry ripple, rapidly progressing towards tutti frutti.

Fascinated and totally unperturbed by the imperfections that time and childbearing have wrought upon my skin, he has introduced me to a type of uninhibited coupledom that I have never before experienced. Complete understanding and acceptance that my body works in mysterious ways but none of which will phase him or stop him from wanting to possess it.

This man truly loves me...

...and I want to shout it from the rooftops :)