Love, Sex, and Disabled Women: we want to be sexy too.
I loved my one and only backless top so much that it became my one key going out essential. Whether it was teamed with a skirt, jeans, or trousers, slipping it on made me feel strong and confident. A certified c-cup, it didn’t give my boobs any support (how responsible of me to consider this), but I didn’t care, cause in it I felt hot.
Like capital H-O-T.
It was a turquoise shimmery colour held onto my body by thin black elastic that crisscrossed my back. It’s neckline was quite high, some modesty obviously required, and the hemline sat just above my bellybutton, allowing me to show of my belly button piercing. Yes, this was the early noughties and I was embracing the fact that belly button piercings were in.
There was one particular night where the magic of this backless top hit its desired mark. The barman went by the name Levi. A name that made you think of too cool for school men and hard liquor… or the jeans that cling to your butt. My twenty one year old self swooned. Leaning back on the tall table behind me, I jutted my chest out, all turquoise shimmer and sexy allure. Levi kept glancing my way, a subtle smile and come hither look in his deep brown eyes. His skin was so tanned and smooth looking. From under his black shirt sleeve a tribal tattoo peaked out.
