Serves you right.
I tried to tell you, didn't I? I said your little obsession would end in tears. Well, here we are.
I mean, when you first came home complaining about some pretty young woman deliberately flashing her knickers, I thought you were just having a little fantasy. I mean, who would stand on a bridge in a little summer dress waving to kayak riders right beneath her, if she thought they would be looking up her dress? But heck, the sex was pretty enthusiastic after that, so I didn't wanna rock the boat too much.
But when you later told me you had seen the same pretty girl sitting on the grass at the same park, deliberately raising her knees to show off her knickers while she read a book? I wondered if you'd lost your mind. It just seemed so fantastical, and I wondered if you were trying to confess about some fetish you have, or something. You kept insisting it was real, and complaining it was immoral, but I still didn't believe you. You did start wanting me to wear short dresses more at that stage, and I have to admit, asking me to leave it on during sex? That was pretty hot.
And when you came in jabbering about, (I mean, come on), the very same pretty girl just "arranging" to rip her dress open in front of the punters in the beer garden, I would have probably started thinking about getting an intervention together except you had photos. Not that I could tell much from them, but at least you could show me a real girl, who actually was really pretty, with a shredded dress, trying in vain to cover up while a hundred beer-soaked onlookers gawked. I wondered if you even believed your own protestations, at that point. I mean, I even said at the time, were you just following this young woman around to complain about her?
I never admitted it to you, but I pulled out those pics several times when you weren't looking, and just enjoyed them again. In fact, they provided... err, inspiration, if you know what I mean, for me to really enjoy myself.
That's when I told you if you don't let it go, bad things might happen. But did you listen? Of course not.
I started to think about myself in that situation. I started to think about the other situations you had described, and I dared to think about the possibility this girl was doing it on purpose. That was extremely powerful. I was too shy to let you know what I was fantasizing about, but you might have noticed that's when I started asking you for things I'd never agreed to before, like a spanking. Of course, I didn't blame you that you weren't keen on taking me anally. I totally accepted that. I figured I was getting carried away at that point. But that's what was going on for me at that stage, ok?
Anyway, if it had stayed at that we might have made it. But when you brought pictures of the same beautiful woman soaking wet in a transparent cotton dress? Let's just say a couple of things happened: First of all, I believed you. Second, I started actually planning how to do some of the incredible things this sexy woman was doing. Third, I started wondering how you could possibly believe your own complaints at this stage. I saw that you were so uptight, and I had never realized it before.
I tried hard not to gross you out with the things I wanted in the bedroom when I was thinking about this woman. I Googled how to deep throat, but you didn't like the choking sounds it made. I wanted to try Shibari bondage ropes, but you were too shy. I wanted to be smacked harder, with a ruler, or a crop, but you didn't want to do that either.
I really did try to reel back in what had leapt from my Pandora's box, but it had been opened, and that toothpaste wasn't going back in the tube (to mix metaphors).
The final straw was when you took me to see her in the flesh (awesome, lovely, incredible flesh). She was sitting on a low wall with her knees raised just enough that you could get a glimpse up there, and she was just reading her book, ostensibly oblivious (although I don't believe that for a second).
