I Love Your Inner Thighs

Last night my husband told me "I love your inner thighs."   I won't go into the details of how this comment came up (it's a little personal), but it surprised me none-the-less because in the 20-plus years that we've known each other he has never commented on my thighs.

My husband is a bit of a boob-dude, so most of his body compliments to me through the years have been directed to my breasts.  

Being that I'm a 32D I've pretty much always had breast men attracted to me, and like most naturally endowed women I know, I've got the ass and thighs to go with the boobs.

I've always kind of figured that when men like breasts (the real ones that is), they've always pretty much know that they have to put up with the butt and thighs as being part of the bargain.  

As I told a rather ample-bosomed friend of mine years ago who was complaining about her body, "you've got the kind of body women hate when it's theirs, but the kind that men just love" (and believe me, men went crazy for this girl because she was built like Christina Hendrickson).

Now my big ass has never really bothered me that much.   Yeah, there have been times when I would've liked a smaller one, but ever since Jennifer Lopez glamorized big booties, I've begun to appreciated my curvy bottom.

But, my thighs, particularly my inner thighs, have always been the main focus on my liposuction fantasies. 

Girls, I'm sure you know what I mean.   Let's be real, I know I'm not the only woman in the world to stand in front of a full-length mirror and think "now if I could only get a little liposuction here. . . . "

I've been fantasizing about having my inner thighs liposuctioned for over 30 years now, because my inner thighs have always been one of my major "problem" areas whenever I gain weight.   It's the first place the weight goes to, and the last place I seem to lose it from.  

So that you know what I'm talking about here they are:

They're not exactly thunder-thighs, but they certainly don't look like Michelle Pfeiffer's either.   BTW, that's a chair leg in my bathroom that appears to be hanging down between my legs (I never professed to be anything more than a rank amateur photographer).

So while I've spent most of my life loathing my thighs, it turns out that my husband has actually appreciated them.  

It doesn't mean I'll give up on the lipo fantasy, but I guess I shouldn't be so critical of myself either.