I had my first kiss/hug/hold hands with girlfriend when I was in the fourth grade, and even then I knew there was something remarkably special about being close to a female body, but it wasn't until two years later that I had, to the best of my recollection, my first real look at a girl's body in a budding sexual kind of way when I was in the sixth grade. There was a foreign girl who'd started attending our school and although she was only in the fourth grade then, I distinctly remember my cousin, who was a classmate of mine, and me watching this girl's tits develop and remarking to each other about her shapely pointers quite often. I think it was then that I started girl watching in earnest - watching my female classmates as their own little boobs started making bumps under their blouses - watching their skinny, tom-boyish legs take on the classic female shapes as they got longer. I've been looking at women ever since.
I don't just look at obviously attractive women. Except for the truly ugly or horribly obese, every woman turns my head for at least a cursory glance. Every ass in a check-out line gets noticed. Every tit in sight at the mall is assessed. The nape of every bare neck at an amusement park gets a stare. Every pair of legs, especially in the spring and summer when shorts are in season, gets a studied notice. I can't help it; it's as natural as breathing to me to check out women. I do it in church as much as I do it anywhere else. It's not an aesthetic thing; it's most decidedly a sexual thing. I'm not studying a voluptuous set of ass cheeks at Wal-Mart to admire the female form as a work of art. I'm thinking about them bare - about the lady they're attached to with all her clothes off - wondering how hot she might be in bed - whether she's a frigid "flatbacker" or vocally multi-orgasmic - whether or not she sucks a mean cock, and about how many hard dicks have gotten a feel of her warm pussy.
The sad thing - sad to me - is that I believe that the vast, vast majority of the women I look at have no idea that I (and probably many other guys) would think they're good looking enough to be checked out. Until Dee became a shared wife, she says that she'd never have imagined that any guy might give her a second look. Now she's amusedly conscious of the way guys try to sneak a peek, especially if she's wearing a slit skirt or something that shows her cleavage, and delighted when she notices some guy noticing her. Dee admits that for most of our marriage she believed that I told her that her body is beautiful because I thought it was my duty as her husband to say such things, and that she didn't think I could possibly mean it.
Unfortunately, it seems that most women have been taught by advertisers that beauty is formulaic - that if you're this size and shape, with tits this big, and legs that go all the way up to here - you're beautiful, but if you miss the mark, you're not. I wish I could somehow convince every "average" woman out there that she's uniquely beautiful and more than worthy of notice - of being desired - than she can possibly imagine. I wish I could make her see herself through eyes like mine - eyes which accentuate the positive and look for what makes her her uniquely desirable, rather than to dwell on what she thinks are her glaring imperfections. I wish I could convince every woman who doesn't believe it, that there is plenty of true beauty to be found in tits that hang a bit lower than they used to, in inner thighs that touch each other, in buns with a touch of droop, and in a stretch marked belly.
Many of the letters I get in response to our online posts of Dee's nude pictures come from guys who long to be in my shoes - who wish their own wives could see themselves as Dee sees herself - cognizant of the highly desirable features that make her who she is. Unfortunately, their wives have no idea that they're being checked out all the time by lots of guys - guys who work with them, shop in the same stores with them, go to church with them, guys who encounter them anywhere and everywhere. If only those women could open their eyes and see that their own unique form makes them desirable, and that there are men all around them who'd give anything to lie down with them and release passions in them that they never realized they still had. The world would be a hell of a better place if they could!
If you are one of those guys whose wife I've just described - hot, but not at all aware of it, consider this my encouragement for you to do all that you possibly can to convince her that she is - even if it means having her take off her clothes for another man to prove it to her. Talk her into letting you post some nudes of her online; they can be faceless and anonymous - let her read some of the letters you'll get from the men who'd love to do her. At the very least, tell her about me - that I'm out here somewhere, waiting to give her a good once over when she'll least suspect it - sitting in a waiting room somewhere, walking down some street, in line to have my ticket ripped at a theater. I'm every man, and I'm everywhere, and she's going to be ogled, admired, and fantasized about whether she believes it or not so she may as well become conscious of it and enjoy knowing that I'd love to strip off every last stitch of her clothes and fuck her silly.