Size Does NOT (really) Matter

Wifey’s been getting comments lately about her size. I know once upon a time she really puffed up to double what she is now, then because of all the problems she faced in her previous marriage, she went from super-puff to Twiggy. I think since I started going out with her until now, she must have put on about 5-10 kilos. Yup, her muffin tops are flowing over her jeans’ waist etc. And although I am equally guilty of making fun of her some times, I find her more attractive now in terms of beauty and sexuality.

And yes, I am guilty of keeping her busy in bed every night and morning and I seriously cannot recall when have I been as active as this sexually in the past two decades. She’s more delicious every single day and I find myself addicted to her, I kid you not. She’s even been declining my attempts to turn her on as she can’t cope with my demands, so much so that at times when I ask to have it doggie-style, she’d roll over and play dead.

I don’t really mind her excesses now as long as she does not grow into Shamu or something. She’s an adult and knows how big she can grow, so it is up to her best judgment when it comes to food and appetite. Of course, I’d make a quip everytime she mentions about her waistline, or how she can no longer fit into her clothes or jeans.

Recently, she’s been the target of a vicious campaign by someone in her office about her weight and looks. I’m proud of how she’s handled that situation. The remarks come from a skinny spinster who’s known for her acid tongue that I’m surprised her teeth fillings have not been dissolved, nor has she been suffering from stomach ulcer.

And Wifey is right that not all men mind the size: the late Yusni Jaafar would have looked unattractive had she been skinny. For me, what matters most would be her heart, sexual prowess and sense of sexual adventure; and last but not least, her overall hygiene…especially oral and vaginal. I wouldn’t want to kiss a woman whose mouth smells like my socks after 3 days of non-stop sweaty jogging, and making my dick smell of belacan (shrimp paste) after I withdraw.

I know some people think that I am not made for her either. I don’t have the looks – if there is any resemblance of Richard Gere in me then I’d be known as Reverse Gear rather. But I hold this motto of mine true:

Muka tak lawa takpe, janji sex gila-gila (Looks don’t matter as long as the sex is wild)

I hope my wife thinks of me the same way…haha.