Interesting Situation- part 2

Lovingyou.com > Family Matters > Marriage > My Wife
posted: 07/08/06 at 12:43 PM


boballen [more]

Maybe you are right, I am hung up on it because of the size thing, I have been hung up on it ll my life. I just want an honest answer, if your wife was bigger, stronger, and hairier would you feel like less of a man? She likes it and I love her very much, but it kind of bothers me at times.


posted: 07/08/06 at 1:06 PM

Poetman [more]

I wouldn't

Remember, it's who you are *inside* that makes the man~not your size, strength or hair
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Rodger Swan 12/19/1986-1/26/2010 Gone too soon, remembered forever. R.I.P my friend.

You have everything that I have to give; it is the only way that Love truly exists. You and I are each One, and we are both One~E

I cannot be accurately judged by the meat and bone wrapped around me - its features were not my choice.~E

I Love you. Love Me as I Love you, you are Me. you are not me; only here are we we, separate rather than Me, One.~E



posted: 07/08/06 at 1:38 PM

boballen [more]

Thank you

posted: 07/08/06 at 2:19 PM



Poetman [more]

Anytime

The world is entirely too caught up with external appearances~she's happy with you, you're happy with her, that's all that really matters.

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Rodger Swan 12/19/1986-1/26/2010 Gone too soon, remembered forever. R.I.P my friend.

You have everything that I have to give; it is the only way that Love truly exists. You and I are each One, and we are both One~E

I cannot be accurately judged by the meat and bone wrapped around me - its features were not my choice.~E

I Love you. Love Me as I Love you, you are Me. you are not me; only here are we we, separate rather than Me, One.~E


posted: 07/08/06 at 2:39 PM


boballen [more]


Thanks, that makes me feel better.




posted: 07/09/06 at 12:28 AM



banarabbyt1 [more]



I replied to your pm but I'll post here to- a man isn't considered a man because of how hairy or tall he is.

A man is someone who takes care of his responsibilities, works hard, and is good to his wife and kids and family, the way he acts to others is the most important thing- specially to children IMO.

I mean, yesterday we went to a pet store and my husband was looking at some rats and this little boy came up to him and was like "what are those?" and he told them "those are rats" and the little boy probably spent 5 minutes at least asking my husband questions and he answered every single one very patiently- it was VERY sweet. And my husband makes me feel special, works hard, and supports me in what I do- THATS a man.

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posted: 07/09/06 at 5:45 AM


boballen [more]



Thank you I appreciate your support and kind words.


posted: 07/12/06 at 12:54 PM


boballen [more]


We did talk and she said that it was my height and lack of hair that attracted her to me and she likes the fact that she is stronger (she is only stronger because she out weighs me by so much and has been training for most of her life). She said that she likes having hairy arms and legs and does not want to change that, but she said she will stop teasing me about our differences. She said she did not mean to hurt me and that whie she likes these differences and I would be fine with them because she is beutiful and has a great body if she would not keep saying "I am like the man in the relationship" , but she says she says these things because she likes the fact that she has the more masculine attributes (by societies standards)which bothers me because I am the man in the relationship. Our relationship is great other than this and I think some of you are right, part of it was my insecurities, however it seems the things I am insecure about are the reasons she married me and is what turns her on about me and she says she wants me to embrace our role reversal and feel comfortable with it because she is, but as a MAN it is difficult to accept at times. Thanks for the input.


posted: 07/13/06 at 5:59 AM

JamesMD [more]



It will be a problem as long as you cannot accept her and yourself for whom you both are.

My guess is that you married her for you lack and vice versa. What are your attributes? What does she lack that you have? Remember, society also views "true" women as needing to be less hairy. less muscular, and shorter than the man. How does she feel that she isn't?

Why did you marry her again if she is bigger than you? Go back to your first impressions and first lover for her.

Just my thoughts. I can totally understand your insecurities.

posted: 07/13/06 at 6:01 AM

Elindelwolf [more]

Tell her. "Hell no."

Ok, maybe not those exact words.

In a relationship, there is no call for things that hurt your SO. Especially in a marriage.

Peace, ~Lucas

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O love! 'Tis but a sweet dream, found only in the heart that deceives me; not the nightmares that suffer me; O foolish man I am!

posted: 07/14/06 at 11:02 AM

boballen [more

It is getting better, I just, well it is wierd seeing this beautiful woman with such a great body and then it being literally covered in hair and it feels funny also.click to: respo

Beared Lady

From the very first time Sangeeta walked through the front door at the firm, everyone took notice. She was tall, with long, lustrous, auburn hair. She had the face of a Punjabi princess and a long, slender body to match. She strode in the door wearing a navy blue pinstriped suit, a high starched collar on her dress shirt and wing-tipped, stiletto heels that were so glossy, they picked up blinding glints of sunlight as she walked. Her make-up was sultry but subtle and she wore no jewelry save for small, gold earrings and matching cufflinks.

Day in and day out, she was always at the height of glamour and fashion, though she always had a very masculine bent to the way she dressed, as if to say, "yes, I'm beautiful, but I'm also good, so pay attention." We worked well together, but I was beyond smitten. I never misbehaved or made any overtures, however, because I was always acutely aware that she was out of my league. Still, I delighted in every time I made her laugh or impressed her with an observation. We were both department heads, but I cared far more about impressing her than I did our bosses.

One day, however, things began to change. I had been out of town for a month, setting up a new office in Hong Kong. Upon my return, I knocked on her door to discuss the progress of her counterpart at that office. It was winter, and she was wearing gray, flannel trousers, a brown, cashmere v-neck with a starched, blue shirt that had white cuffs and collar. Under the collar, she had a red, silk tie in a double Windsor, and she completed the look with a wide-lapelled double-breasted jacket to match her trousers.

After exchanging pleasantries and a handshake, we sat at opposite sides of her desk and got down to business. It was then that I noticed a layer of pervasive, dark fuzz all over her face. It was more densely collected and longer on her cheeks and upper lip, but it caught the light rather dramatically on her chin. Then I noticed that in spite of the familiar length and volume of her hair, I could see through to her scalp. It was noticeably thinner at the top.

I put it out of my mind and continued the meeting, but that night, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Over the course of the next month, Sangeeta’s hair got thinner and her face got furrier until one Monday morning when her face was suddenly bare, and her hair was conspicuously darker and far fuller.

Later that day, I rounded a corner in the hall and caught Sangeeta studying her chin and upper lip in her compact. Several days later, seated beside her at a meeting, late in the day, I noticed that she had five o'clock shadow. It was then that my suspicion was confirmed. She had been shaving her face.

At the end of the meeting, the others left while I decided it was time I took a shot. Suddenly, I felt she was not only attainable, but whether interested or not, she may appreciate the idea that someone would want her. I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Sangeeta."

"Yes?"

Suddenly, as her piercing eyes locked with mine, I lost my nerve.

"Oh, I... I just wanted to see if you had an opening tomorrow to discuss the quarterly numbers."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. The scheduled appointment we already have at ten."

"Right. That's right."

It was then that she stood up but her hair didn't all go with her. In a flash, I picked it up, replacing it on top of her head before anyone else had seen. She looked at me, petrified. She said nothing and scrambled to collect her papers, disappearing without a word.

Realizing how upset she may have been, I followed her to her office. "Sangeeta?"

"Come in."

"Sangeeta, I..."

"I'm okay. Please, just..."

"No. Sangeeta. Of course you're alright. I didn't really want to ask you about tomorrow. I wanted to ask you out to dinner."

"Why would you tell me that now?"

"Because I'm asking you now."

"After what you just saw?"

"Sangeeta. We work in very close quarters. I already knew. So? Would you do me the honor?"

"Uh... Sure. I mean, yes, of course."

"How's Friday at eight?"

Her look of astonishment melted away and she curled her lips into a smile.

The rest of the week dragged on. We never mentioned our plans, but I did notice her responses to my jokes were a bit more boisterous and Sangeeta had taken up the practice of touching my elbow from time to time.

When Friday rolled around, Sangeeta was wearing a pair of brown, wool-cashmere trousers, a striped, green button-down with a silk ascot, and a dark green, tweed jacket. By five o'clock, her facial hair had begun to peek out and I caught her itching her hair piece.

"What kind of place are we going to? What should I wear?" she asked.

"Dark. Candle lit. Quiet, but laid back. I was kind of hoping you'd just come as you are."

"Oh. Well, sure."

"In fact, Sangeeta, I kind of figured that you look forward to taking that off at the end of every day."

She looked embarrassed.

"No. I mean, I picked a place I thought you would feel comfortable without your wig. You don't even have to shave. Not that it needs to be dark. I'll take you anywhere."

"What? How did you?" She seemed angry at first, then shifted, perplexed. "Do you mean that?"

"Absolutely, Sangeeta. I don't want to embarrass you, but you are an incredibly beautiful woman."

"Well, I was..." "You are."

It was seven fifty when I arrived at Sangeeta's building. I buzzed her unit and she called down. Minutes later, the door opened and I was floored. Suddenly it occurred to me that I didn't look at her head when the wig came off. Sangeeta's hair had been cut to an even length of a few inches all over. The sparse top was combed forward and her pink scalp showed through. As I had suggested, she spared her face another shaving, and she replaced her jacket with a soft sweater. She looked at me as if to ask for my approval.

"I'm not quite sure of all the rules of dating a coworker, but I think I can safely say that you look gorgeous tonight."

Her smile made my heart swell.

Dinner went well, but we were far too polite for a couple on a first date. During the meal, we only discussed business. But on the way back to her building, I decided to get honest. I put my jacket around her shoulders.

"So, what happened, darling?"

She looked me in the eyes, clearly gauging my sincerity. Then she looked down on the sidewalk as the cuffs of her pants danced around her wool socked ankles. She pulled my arm tighter with one hand and drew the other to her stubbly chin.

"They don't know, exactly. They thought it was hormonal, but all of my hormone levels are normal. The theory is that certain receptors in my body are simply hyper-sensitive to normal levels of hormones. Do you really want to know?"

"Absolutely. I want to know. Is this permanent?"

"The truth is, it will probably only get worse. I'll get hairier most places, and I'll just get balder and balder on my head."

"And you want to just keep wearing wigs and shaving?" "What choice do I have?"

I stopped and pulled her close, running my hands over her head and around to the velvety stubble along her jaw-line.

"You could embrace it. You could just be the uniquely extraordinary person you were born to be."

She was briefly pulled into me, about to allow me a kiss when she pushed away, leaving me to catch up.

"A freak show."

"No. A beautiful woman with qualities few other women possess."

She fell quiet, but permitted me to hold her head against my chest as we walked. Eventually, we came to a barbershop that was open late. She stopped and looked in the door. As suddenly as she stopped, she resumed a brisk pace.

"So you're telling me that if I showed up tomorrow with a beard and a bald spot, you not only wouldn't skip a step, you'd continue to take me out, romantically?"

I pulled her close again, and kissed her.

"Sangeeta, from the day I met you, I have dreamed of being this close. I would consider myself the luckiest man alive if you would continue to date me while you explore this situation."

After another kiss, I took her home and we shared another beautiful moment.

The next day, I got to work early, eagerly anticipating Sangeeta's arrival. Right on time, she strolled into the office, wearing her hair piece, a pair of wool, charcoal trousers, a plaid, silk, sport coat and a white shirt with a red and black stiped tie and a pair of tasseled loafers. What impressed me, though, was that she hadn't shaved. It clearly impressed the whole office as hushed chatter swept throughout.

For the first part of the day, Sangeeta seemed almost to forget the previous night. Then, around lunch time, she knocked on my door, opened her blazer, plunged her hands into her pants pockets and lifted her pants to her waist.

"Do you stand by everything you said last night?" "Of course."

"Alright. Follow me."

Twenty minutes later, after an almost silent walk, studying Sangeeta's growing beard in the sunlight, we stepped up to and into the barbershop from the previous night.

"What are you planning to do here?" I asked with a flirtatious grin. She responded in kind, saying only, "you'll see."

Almost as soon as she crossed the doormat, Sangeeta made a point of ignoring me, as though she were pretending we were strangers. As she passed the lone, female barber, they exchanged nods and we sat. When I sat beside her, Sangeeta stood up, ceremoniously removed her sport jacket and sat back down, several seats away, hanging the jacket over the back of the next seat. She picked up a magazine, and I followed suit.

As I pretended to peruse an old New Yorker, I looked up at the barber. She put the finishing touches on an older man's haircut. She was younger than us by a few years, maybe 26. She was hip, wearing tight black jeans and an old white t-shirt. Its collar had

been stretched out so that as she shifted her shoulders, it almost drifted off, and occasionally revealed much of her cleavage. Her hair was long and pulled into a ponytail, but a fringe of feathered hair wrapped from cheek to cheek.

When she finished the older gentleman, she had a short, bubbly, exchange with him as he handed her a twenty dollar bill. After accompanying him to the door, she turned to me.

"So, what can I do ya for, handsome?"

"Please. I believe she was ahead of me," I returned, trying to play along with Sangeeta's charade.

"Oh, please forgive me. Sandy, what do you say you hop right up here? What will we do today?"

Sangeeta slid her wig off and, strangely, onto the floor as she stood. Her hair laid flat to her scalp except where it poked awkwardly out over her ears and the back of her collar. As she stood before the barber's chair, she loosened her tie, opened her collar, and lifted her trousers to sit down. As she crossed her legs, I got a glimpse of long, dense fur above her black socks.

"Shorter on the sides. Long enough to part on top." "And the, uh..?"

Sangeeta leaned in to whisper into the barber's ear. Then she turned to me, smiled and winked as the barber walked over to me.

"I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to leave. You're making the lady uncomfortable. I felt cheated, but I understood. She set me up. Now she wants to build up anticipation and surprise me. On my way back to the office, I received a text message from Sangeeta that read:

"My place. 9 o'clock. Bring a tooth brush and a change of clothes."

When I got to her place, I was fresh out of the shower at the gym, dressed to go out, with my gym bag full of work clothes and toiletries. She buzzed me in.

Out of the elevator, I came to her door, which was cracked open. Inside, it was dark, but I could see a candle lit through a door at the end of the hall. I set my bag down and walked toward it.

"Sangeeta?"

Her voice returned from inside the door, "keep coming, darling. Take a seat at the foot of the bed."

I entered. In the light of the single candle, I found the end of the bed and sat. "What's with all the..."

"Shhh. Just be patient," she whispered from the shadows.

With her back to me, she stepped in front of the candle and it went out. The room went totally dark. Seconds later, she picked up my hands and placed them over her waist. She was fully clothed in the thick, soft fabric of one of her suits. I slid my hands down to her tight, round butt as she leaned in to kiss me. First, on my cheek, then my lips, then again on my lips only to part her own, softly biting my lower lip. With each kiss, I felt a soft, velvety mustache brush over and press against my skin. It felt different, though. It felt like it had all been trimmed neatly just over her lip.

She rubbed her cheek against mine, revealing that it was bare. It was so bare that I never would have known it had ever been bearded. I ran my right hand up, over the back of her suit to her neck. It was also bare, up to the base of her skull, where it tapered gracefully from tiny, sharp bristles to soft, crushed velvet. My thumb jumped over her ear to where she had a short bristly sideburns that came to her earlobe. It wasn't tapered or pointed like most women wear them. It was blunt. Before I could do any more exploring, she pulled away and flipped a switch, lifting the veil of darkness.

As she walked forward, I saw that her hair was parted on top in a very conservative, men's haircut. It was clippered short on the sides and in back. On top, due to the thinning, I could see her scalp receding to the back under the part, but the part did disguise the full extent of her hair loss more than her longer hair. The widow's peaks above her temples went dramatically far back, but it was still flattering combined with her beautiful features.

What I had not noticed until just then was that her hair was turning a silvery gray. The sides had become almost uniformly silver and the sparse top showed strands here and there. Her mustache, which was all that remained of her beard, was still very dark brown with red highlights here and there. It was thicker than I had remembered and trimmed to just over her lip in a precise line, extending from just past each corner of her mouth. It was strange, but somehow extraordinarily arousing.

She was suited from head to toe in a wooly tweed. She wore a broad tie beneath a high vest, wrapped within a wide-lapelled, double-breasted jacket tailored to wrap tightly over her breasts and around her tiny waist over pleated, cuffed, straight-legged trousers. She kicked off a pair of brown wingtips, revealing brown, red and tan argyle socks.

"Now, get to work. You take the rest off," she commanded.

I stood up and walked up to her. I removed my own clothes and pulled her close, kissing her as I opened her jacket. I then got on my knees.

I opened her belt and trousers. I slid her pants down. Her legs were carpeted all the way into her panties. I wrapped my hands around her ankles and ran them all the way back up, making the long, dark hairs stand up. I lowered her panties, which had bulged from the crotch. Once down, an eight inch beard clung, extending up over her stomach. I parted the beard to reveal her lips and pressed my own against them before standing.

I took her by the necktie, pulling it just an inch or so from the vest, and again, pressed my lips against hers. I plunged deep into her mouth with my tongue as I relished the sensation of her soft, fine, mustache. In one quick motion, I threw her toward the bed and bent her over the edge. I forced her legs apart and plunged my hand into her furry crotch. As she arched her head back, I could see the bare circle at the top of her head. Oddly, it only turned me on more, and I pulled her close as I plunged my penis inside her.

When I woke, she was sprawled out naked. I saw her in all her splendor for the first time, and I found that her chest and back were even hairier than mine. I ran my fingertips over the alien terrain, waking her up. We kissed and I lifted my fingers to her mustache, combing it against the grain. To my surprise, no stubble had emerged over the night where her beard had been.

"Why is your face still so smooth?" I asked.

She rubbed her cheek and jaw, and flattened her mustache back down.

"The barber did it with a straight razor. I don't know why, but it usually stays smooth for a couple days after that."

She kissed me again, and then took me by the hand into the bathroom.

"Speaking of which, I have a job for you." She handed me a safety razor and a can of shaving cream. "I need you to shave off my mustache."

"What? Why? I kind of like it."

"Honey, I'm a balding woman. That's unique enough. I don't need to be the bearded, bald woman."

So we hopped in the shower, and I did as she asked.

For several months, we alternated nights at each other's apartments. I tended to her beard, and she went to the barbershop once a month for a trim and a shave. Gradually, she lost more and more hair on her head. I found that she wasn't so much balding entirely as the hair that was growing in as thicker hairs fell out just wasn't maturing. It was thin, sparse, and translucent. The rest of her hair became progressively more silver, but so far as I

could tell, her beard was still dark, though I was tasked with shaving it morning and night.

Our six month anniversary came two days after I returned from a month long trip overseas. When I got to her apartment, no one was home. I made myself comfortable on the couch and set out to catch up on some shows on the DVR.

Somehow, Sangeeta snuck in without a sound, and she startled me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. I pulled her over the back of the couch and into my lap.

To my surprise, she had changed her hair and begun to grow her beard. I plunged my lips into hers for some time, and then I sat back to take her in. Her hair had been reduced on the sides and back to a bare shaved scalp. From there, her hair was precisely flush with the scalp and seemingly perfectly flat on top. At the very peak of her head, it was completely bare. Her hairline had retreated further up, but it only served to highlight her extraordinarily beautiful features. She had apparently colored her hair, restoring it to a reddish brown.

Her face was similarly precisely trimmed. Below her jaw-line, it was shaved smooth, and the border her jaw constituted was as flat as the top of her head. From there up her cheeks, chin and mustache were all one length, creating a lustrous, velvety texture.

"Do you like it?" she asked, with a spritely confidence. "I do."

Over the next several months, Sangeeta maintained her haircut and grew out her beard. With each week, her cheeks, chin and upper lip got fuller while she had her barber maintain a precise plane at her jaw-line and just over her upper lip. Every night and every morning, she brushed and combed it as though it were the long mane she once had on her head.

All the while, the hair on top of her head became less and less apparent. She still maintained the precise flattop with the insubstantial fuzz that lined her scalp, and she became even more determined to keep it dark.

Ladkiyo ki daadi aur mooche-click on pic to zoom it

Hairy women: hirsute Female in sexual dominance in India

Hairy women: hirsute Female in sexual dominance in India: My wife and me, we both are in our early 40's and have a healthy life, She has more stout and strong body compare to me in th...

hirsute Female in sexual dominance in India

My wife and me, we both are in our early 40's and have a healthy life, She has more stout and strong body compare to me in this age due to her daily house hold job etc while I am doing office job on a managerial position in government office.
She has now becoming hirsute due to some hormonal imbalance in her body which is quite common in this age for mostly healthy woman in Punjab. I never mind this because i love her. we shave together in the morning and its fun sometime because she has more coarse and thick hair on her face than me.

This is a second marriage for her. We have had an active and enjoyable sex life and we love each other very much. Although she enjoys conventional vaginal sex, she rarely achieves orgasm from it. She gets her orgasms primarily from oral clitoral stimulation, which I love doing for her. She has an unusually large clitoris which protrudes prominently when she is aroused, almost like a penis from her very hairy crotch.

A couple of years ago, I suggested to her that I thought we both might enjoy the sex even more if she would try to become more dominant sexually, at least part of the time.

Being an conventional Indian housewife, It was awkward for her at first as she never heard about this. she was shy in that role initially. That has now changed entirely. She has grown into the dominance role so much that now she is always taking the dominant position and controls the sex that we have.Even now she assume male role and started Squeezing my chest and my chest has grown man-boobs due to her rough squeezing and rubbing.

She squeeze more and more with intention to make them even larger for her play and started making fun of my boobs saying that she will make them bigger than any girl around. Actually initially, I started teasing her for having beard and mustache like a man  so its kind of revenge for her to feminize me by making boobs on my chest, thank god she has very big breast of 40 DD size so i couldn't have size bigger than her, not to worry that i will get bigger boobs than her.

The upside is that we have sex much more often than before because she enjoys it more  now. It seems that i released the beast out of her or I would say her manly form out of  typical Indian housewife.

Can I put the genie back in the box?

I am having more sex and my wife is more satisfied now but want this to end as this is challenging my male ego.

I just thought, Why do I want to put this genie back in the bottle? Is more action or more satisfaction for her part is a bad thing? Or is it that i would like to be the dominant one sometimes?

I found it latter one, I try to make my moves but she keeps making me her bottom , using her strong body ( i never realized that she is stronger than me until she use her strength on me) now quite forcefully, still in a pleasurable manner and we end up having even more sex! She want to have sex me now only forcefully than before the genie was out of the bottle and that is why she is dominant and I end up becoming submissive or i say feminine way.