Yep, I would have rather quit than admit to
Honestly, I don't think I could watch most of the stuff that gets me hot to read. I just wouldn't want to.
I found myself dazing off into space, thinking about how twisted and strange I find some of the things that make me hot and bothered, when something else began bothering me...
and it sounds kinda
I had to tell him that I had been reading porn.
And I really
really didn't want him to ask what I had been reading about.
It has been a very long time since I felt so uncomfortable under his gaze. I mean, crawling out of my skin to go hide under a rock kind of uncomfortable.
And for that moment, he let it go--He did not ask what I had been reading that made me so squirmy. But he won't let it go forever.
He's an interesting man to live with. Often, he will barely respond to the most disturbing of admissions. At most he will become somewhat aloof and cold, which is scary and incredibly hot in a scary kind of way. Then at some later date in time...Days, weeks, months, a year, he will approach me with that cold aloof air. And everything comes back. In that moment, he takes away private thought, he wants to crawl around in my mind, he wants to know every little detail, and he will have what he wants.
I wonder if that is one of the things that has made me how I am today--feeling like I have to tell him what I'm putting into my mind. As if asking permission for what goes into and comes out of my body isn't enough...He doesn't just want to see, to know, to strip me down and invade completely--he wants me to look inside, to look him in the eyes, to accept, and admit...