SECRET ATTRACTION: THE MAN NEXT DOOR.
I’m a new but ardent reader of your blog and I've been fascinated at the way you handle issues, so I feel confident to seek your advice on a matter that of utmost concern to me.
I’m sort of a newlywed, but I had been living with my husband for about 3 years before we finally hitched.
Before we got married, my husband, then my boyfriend, fiancé (or whatever they’re called before marriage) paid a great deal of attention to me. I kinda enjoyed my life with him then. And sex was… wow… head-shattering and mind-blowing. And to tell the truth, even though I knew about this single and handsome neighbor next door, I never paid him that much attention apart from occasional hellos and heys, when we run into each other, and trust me, that’s it. Never even waited or cared for that matter to know his name.
Now, I’m married and my husband has bagged his trophy (Me), I’m beginning to feel like a conquest. He’s still loving, don’t get me wrong, but he’s more often gone chasing deals than chasing me. He’s accomplishing goals, but I’m feeling sidetracked. I have a great job too but not satisfied because what we had is fast fading.
I ran into the neighbor next door and this time I took a good look and man is he “fine.” (with high pitch!!!) Now we stand to chat and ask about our businesses and I discovered he’s a work-from-home kind of businessman, making good money, but no lady in his life. And did I remember to say that I now know his name and he knows mine. There’s a way he looks into my eyes when we chat that pierces even to the dividing asunder of my inward parts and tickles my outward parts too. His voice is so smooth when he talks that it reminds me of when Babyface sings.
The other day, he invited me over for a drink at his place and as I was crossing the threshold to the entrance of his doorway, he was reaching out to close the door, not looking, when his arm brushed over the corner of my breast accidentally of which he apologized profusely for. But PJK, honestly, deep inside me I felt a ring for further exploration. Of course he didn't go there; we just had that one drink and talked. That was all, but I am certainly having these unholy thoughts and ideas. Is this normal?!
Please, please help a suddenly lonely woman out.
P.S.: “I’m about to go ring his doorbell.”