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The Granny Panty Materialization

People often joke about sex or the lack of really, once the happy couple finally says I do.  Like Zsa Zsa Gabor once proclaimed, “I know nothing about sex, because I was always married”.   And I can totally relate because I was once in a sexless marriage.  In my defense, it had nothing to do with marriage and everything to do with my ex screwing every female he came in contact with.  He didn’t quite get the concept that being married meant you only screwed one female for the rest of your life.  Lucky for me, his extra marital activities now fall under the responsibility of his current wife.  But, the whole icky marital non sex thing did end up leaving me with a few emotional scars.  I went on an extended three year hiatus… post-divorce; closed up shop and everything.   It was during those three years that I found comfort, safety and familiarity in one thing… granny panties (and sangria, so I guess two things really…but who’s counting right?).

Fast forward through a few bad relationships later and to the beginning stages of me and the love of my life /now fiancé (and yes, I never thought I would hear myself say those words again…ever).  We did not see each other much at the start of our so called relationship, maybe once or twice every other week.  I had my girls; he had commitment issues.  I got to play dress up in my sexy lace panties on the nights we went out and still enjoyed my granny panties when I stayed home.  It was the best of both worlds.  For all he knew, I wore my sexy lace panties everyday… because that’s what we sex-kitten single moms always wear (insert hysterical laughing here).  Seriously, it’s a lot of hard work having to find the perfect sexy lace panty that makes my 45 year old ass look decent.  Like in decent enough for someone to be seeing me without pants on decent.  I would obsess over my choice of undergarments for days.  I didn’t want to seem slutty; even worse, I didn’t want to seem grannie panty-ish.  I needed my panties to scream out Total-Sex-Goddess in the house…even if it was only temporary.  I was able to maintain my “secret granny panty wearing double life”.

Now that the love of my life and I are about to be married, it may be time for me to come of out of the granny panty wearing closet I’ve been hiding in all this time. I mean, he jokes about me wearing them, but I just nervously laugh him off saying “you are too funny!”  Honestly, after four years we are still in the “I can’t keep my hands off you stage”.  And I don’t ever want that to change.  I mean we don’t even poop in front of each other yet, and forget about farting…it doesn’t exist.  Except for the times when the love of my life tries to tell me that I do that while I sleep.  My motto… if I can’t remember it, it never happened. Don’t get me wrong, the love of my life has seen me at my worse.  Like the time when I was staying the night at his place, he was trying to be sweet by turning up the heat so I wouldn’t get cold while he ran out to check on his mom.  I had just finished three big glasses of wine, we agreed it would be better if I stayed and napped for a pinch.  Little did I know he had turned the heat up to like 90 degrees; the wine and heat probably didn’t mix well?  I ended up throwing up just as he put a waste basket near the bed…while he was still holding it.  At that point, even if I were lying there totally butt naked, Total-Sex-Goddess was not happening.

I know the love of my life really loves me for me and not for what I wear or don’t wear. Please, there were times I thought he was going to run straight for the hills and never return (still not sure why he never did, I will count my blessings). He has proven himself time and time again.  It’s just that I want to keep the romance…aka sex… alive in our relationship.  I don’t want a sexless marriage again. I want to keep the farting, pooping, noose picking and granny panties in the closet (or behind closed soundproof doors) where they belong, at least for now.  I know we are all human… putting our granny panties on one leg at a time.  But, just like the number of alcoholic drinks I consume before attending various family functions, I prefer to keep some things to myself.

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