On My Red Hot, Sinfully Sexy Affair.

IN: Life

 

I’m currently gnawing on a big, squishy, ripe red tomato.

Right now. As I type this.

I’m forking salty chunks into my mouth as I hope (but not pray–I’m pretty bad at that) that tomato seed juice doesn’t dribble all over my keyboard.

Before my current lusty, red hot tomato affair, I was getting a massage.

I woke up at 5am to write, like I do every day, worked all morning until 2pm, and then showed up at a random Costa Rican lady’s home that I had never been to before for the massage.

As I lay in ecstasy on the table, in my little black bikini, there was a moment when I realized just how damn beautiful this life is. Right there, in this cracked cement-floored house, on this makeshift table covered in a faded yellow sheet with a border of teddy bears lining the edges, the fan blowing a breeze all over my tanned (and now oil-covered) skin, a flute-like version of Unchained Melody humming from the nearby boombox, and the faintest hints of the loveliest thunder booming in the distance.

It really is the little things.

And ever since my energy-fused, coffee-laden, excitement-filled One Night Stand call with the vixen-like Audrey, whose main focus is on helping women experience as much unbridled, uninhibited pleasure in their every day lives, I’ve been thinking a lot about it–which is precisely what prompted me to schedule today’s massage.

And you know what? I’m going for another one tomorrow.

Very unapologetically.

Audrey’s right–life’s too short to not seek out pleasure every single damn day, and be a little selfish. Selfish, my friends, can be sexy.

And with that, I’m challenging you to do the same.

Today.

Tomorrow.

The day after that.

And the day after that. 

You’re not a slave to anyone or anything. And that includes yourself.

Get selfish. Get self-indulgent. Do everything for you, and nothing for anyone else for once. Push the fuck you button on the phone the next time someone calls. Go take a long bath, and put on your hottest lingerie. And then have a deliciously scandalous, off-the-charts, blissful, sinful affair with yourself.

You deserve it.

(Probably, unless you’re a serial killer, in which case…tsk tsk.)