by anon*

ooops

Tonight, like so many past nights, I’m in bed, wearing a lacy white lingerie set from the intimates section at Target. And, without any particular audience in mind, I lick my lips, arch my back, and snap a pic with an outstretched iPhone.

It’s not hard to feel sexy in something that was designed for that specific purpose. Let’s face it, a balconette bra is practical for little else than producing that coveted, nigh edible, cleavage. Don’t even get me started on what that tiny, uncomfortable thong does to accentuate my ass. But each itchy stitch is a reminder of how much sexy fun it is to have this beautiful body — delicious breasts, softly curved hips, pouty pink lips — and to be able to dress it up, do my best Bathsheba, and capture the moment in a 5 megapixel freeze frame.

In all the costume changes, lipstick applications, donning the highest heels I own and standing in front of my full length mirror in next to nothing, my indulgent iPhone photo shoots are almost strictly for my own eyes. On a lonely laundry night in my apartment, I’ll appropriately strip down, smile coyly and slip a finger or two in the band of my panties… click. I’ll put my shoulders back and shake my curls out… click. Then, revisiting the pictures on a slow day at the office will give me that familiar surge of sexiness, as I smile at the semi-secret knowledge of how enticing my own body is underneath the prison of a freshly pressed pantsuit.

However, I’ll admit: the thrill of exhibitionism is a difficult temptation to resist. So, inevitably, a few select shots are sent to a particularly horny guy friend, or an ex-boyfriend who’s forgotten what he’s missing. And in the flurry of affirming words, I examine the photos of my own figure for the fourth, fifth, sixth time, and absorb the compliments from others that I was giving myself all along.

An Ode to Sexy Selfies was originally posted on meandmyopinion.com

*the author has requested anonymity for this post.

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