Infinite Yearning

He longed to grasp her thighs, her hips, her tits, he longed to hear her gasp and see her eyes gleam with sexual awakening. It was a potent, constant yen. It felt like one of the things that kept him going, contemplating her cunt.

Lately I have been lustfully regarding the older woman that come into my place of work. There are a fair few of them, a fair few that I have contemplated becoming intimate with. Theirs is an austere, serene beauty.

Goddamit I want to suck her thighs. This is overwhelming at times. I become craven, lust-driven.

The older woman with the cute, timid face. Smiling, quiet. Her perfume I had smelled years ago under some long forgotten carnal circumstances. I almost had to jam a fist into my mouth to stifle a scream when I smelled that perfume again last night. Her timid, curious eyes seemed to beam benevolence toward my fevered psyche.

I am obsessed with her neck. Nipples don't even concern me as much. She is all of seventeen years old. A classic soul-destroyer.
Women of the world, I've seen you in New York, in Mumbai, in Warsaw. You are 17, 24, or 41. You are timid or else flirtatious, or else devastatingly aloof. I prefer the timid ones. The cute ones. I could cuddle them, protect them, heal them. At least this is what I tell myself.

As I write this, my nipples are erect. This is not an unusual state of affairs. Dear reader, I have freakish nipples. I confess this to you now. I am in bed wearing only boxer shorts. Record player on loud. Just finished my second beer. My stomach groans, seeking more substantial sustenance, ie food.

Women of the world, I surrender to you. I am ready to be destroyed by your fucked up whims provided my lust is satiated. A solemn handjob. A whiff of perfume. An unbridgeable distance. The horror and insanity of survival and procreation. I submit myself regardless, in the name of bliss.

My armpits smell. I quite like the smell. Time to open the third beer. The stylus is skating towards the record matrix. The turntable is a fucking glorious portal.
Dear reader, take care in every endeavour. May great fortitude befall you all. Try not to be an asshole in this nightmarish maze of procreation and survival and I'll try to do the same.

Yours sincerely
Charles Tex Watkins