Some call it degrading, I call it irresistible.
Some call it outrageous, I call it love.
Adoration, the prickling of eagerness on the edge of my lips.
How I crave those summer days or springtime, depending on the location. The closer to the tropics, the better.
I have greatly benefitted from global warming, and even more so from the trend of more money for less clothing.
Every day, I fall madly in love. Desperately in love.
There she goes. I am lost in a trance. It’s a delicate balance of revealing just enough skin to be excessive but also intriguing, drawing you in, making you want so much more. It’s the very spot where ass meets upper thigh peaking out under denim material. Loosely or tightly cupping the ass, this little crevice is the key element in our love affair.
Oh, those booty shorts.
She draws me in with the swinging of her hips. I cannot remember the slightest detail about her. Were they high waisted? Did she have long hair? She casts a spell on me every time.
How can I resist?
Part of me wants to talk to her, ask for her number and some slightly irrelevant but nonetheless important facts about her life. I could. It would be easy.
But then she would turn around.
Image ruined. Heart broken. I’d have to scare her away just to see her go again.
And oh would I love to see her go. And go.
We’d be in love all over again.