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2014-01-09 - 3:42 p.m.

He always said that Irish women were the most desirable, most beautiful women on earth. He said he used to have dreams of a red haired, green eyed girl when he was much younger. Every single thing about me, from my hair and eye color, to the sway of my low back, to the fullness of my lips, the squeeze of my hips, my milky white skin, to the shape of my hands, to the softness of my skin... exactly his favorite. Perfection by his standards. By his accounts, I was made for him, exactly to his preferences.

I loved being someone's favorite everything.

Because of my feisty nature and my tendency to test the limits and the restraints a bit, it takes a big strong Masterful guy to be my man. This is a trait he possesses, or used to possess. This trait, along with his wit and intelligence, is why I fell for him in the first place. We had a whole lot of naughty fun with that dynamic between us. I have always known he was strong enough to be my man. I just wish he had as much faith in himself as I have in him.

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