At the moment, I’m staring at a rack of lingerie… in silk, satin, lace, with delicate sheer fabrics, and beautiful embroidery. Some of the pieces are pretty, some are ridiculous, and I’m surprised at the number of pieces that I’ve never worn. Some still have the sales tags on them.
I remember a time in my life when I thought stuff like that was far to risque to wear. There were other times when I didn’t think I was skinny enough, or curvy enough, or otherwise pretty enough to wear some of them.
Now, the stuff hanging on the rack just looks… I dunno… “meh.” They’re nice enough, but most of them seem cliched, boring, or maybe they just seem too… vanilla?
Since J, I haven’t worn any of them. During sex and play, I’m almost always fully clothed. I wore my beautiful leather corset with him once, but it restricted my movement, and besides that, he didn’t react to it as much as I’d hoped. (Sure, I wear things to feel beautiful, but I’m also a reaction junkie.)
It’s not like I’m going wear any of my vanilla lingerie in the near future. As I take them off the hangers, fold them as neatly as I can, and shove them into a spare dresser, I wonder if I’ll ever wear things like this again. I wonder if I’ll find vanilla sex and vanilla relationships exciting and fulfilling again.
It’s not a goal or anything. I just wonder.