The Tricks I Pull to Make Myself Feel Better

I am so drunk trying to post this for the morning. It’s full of grammar and spelling mistakes – but I couldn’t not post it. Yesterday’s was horrible.

Happy Halloween.

Abbi xxxx





I’ve had this in my head for a bit, it’s in my head nearly all day these days simply because I’m not myself lately. I’m an average girl, with possibly an above average interest in sex.

But I’m susceptible to insecurities, probably more so than most and that could explain my need to share here? I’m off the point. The point being that at sometimes I look better than at others. If I’ve been working out and eating properly I feel better about myself and more confident. But at times when I take the foot off the pedal or you know, go on holiday for 4 weeks and live on red meat and butter, then it has an obvious effect on my body and therefore on my confidence.
But unlike an average girl (I think and I’m happy to be corrected on this?) I do the opposite of what you’d expect. (yes, thank you before you say it I know what I actually should be doing is putting down the Kerrygold and getting to the gym) But what I do is pull every trick I can to remind me that I’m not half as awful looking as I think I am and even if I was, I would still be attractive.
I am now going to give away a few of my secrets.

First thing I do when I don’t feel great about my body? Buy sexy underwear (possibly a little bigger). Get some gorgeous and super flattering saucy knicks, bra and any other matching bits I can get for less than €30 (I need to do this a lot so I’ve had to curb the limit, spending real money is for when I feel great)
Then put it on, take a nice pic of myself and possibly show Twitter.
This wasn’t always easy to do but it’s getting easier. Trust me, that camera is absolutely my friend. I am way handier with it than I am with anything else. You get to see the best of me not the worst, and it does exist.
(If I’m very pleased with what the underwear has done, I might have to show my appreciation and get some release. With myself. In case that wasn’t clear)

Trick two.
I will get out every top that showcases, highlights or otherwise draws attention to my boobs – and wear them every day. It’s not massive, my rack, it’s really not. But that’s great because it means I can wear really low cut tops and sometimes go without a bra. And I can get away with this. But the reason I draw attention to my boobs? Because it’s all about deflection! I don’t want you to notice the bits I hate so I will make damn sure you only see what I want you to see. Guaranteed no one’s looking at my muffin top when the ladies are on show, pretty sure no one even notices.

Trick three
This might not work for everyone but I am very lucky to have been bestowed, from my mother, a pretty ok set of pins. I love them possibly more than the tits? It’s a tough call. But … when the insecurities creep in they do eventually make me think I’m delusional about the legs. This usually stems from thinking the thighs have let me down (they have, that’s where the weight goes). But all I need to do it stick on a short skirt and some killer high heels and I will forget about this soonenough. Again, I have to force myself to do this. But I’ve learned it’s always a good idea.

The last thing I do, because it’s not always available to me is the one thing that I want more than the others. As soon as I don’t love my body; I want to be naked. I want to be naked and having sex with someone who really wants to sleep with me. Someone who’s had me before and that I know is into me. Properly.
Ok, not naked, naked but with just some great underwear.
There’s nothing that makes me feel better about myself or more powerful than when I stand in front of a partner, trussed up in a load of spectacular underwear, and I see their reaction and desire to rip it off me. Nothing makes me feel better than that. Well, that coupled with getting on my knees, in the right position so that he can see the right bits of me; where I can get the best leverage and hear him tell me how fucking amazing I look as I suck his cock. How amazing it feels to have my mouth around it. To hear ‘Oh God yeah, lick those balls’ ever before he asks me to. I want to make him lose himself as I lick every millimetre of his thighs, shaft, balls – right through to his perineum and back to his asshole. I want to kneel with my tits pushed up, and my ass leaning back – showcasing the widest part of my hips and making my arse look great. All nicely covered but looking good. I want to get in under his balls and lick and suck them, while he has his hand on his cock looking down at me, telling me that he fucking loves my filthy mouth and what it does to him. I want to look up at him from under his balls, my mouth dripping with my own spit and see him enjoying this. And that will make me feel better. That will remind of what I do actually already know but that insecurity makes me forget: that I am attractive and worth sleeping with, not just because of how I look but because of what I can do. That I have the power to make somebody else feel great. And that’s one of the best feelings in the world.

So I’ll get back to an acceptable level of fitness, of course I will, I always do. But in the meantime I really hope I can get my hands or mouth on an appreciative cock.

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