There’s something about the female body that makes me greedy. I lose myself in the curves of feminine anatomy; I gladly relinquish control to my so-called carnal desires and dive joyously into pleasure’s waters on a regular basis. I’m your atypical whore.
I say atypical because I’ve made it an art. Women themselves are masterpieces, and therefore bedding them is not a skill just anyone can acquire. (I suppose that rule doesn’t apply for women of certain professions) It fascinates me to find exactly which method of seduction a woman will respond to; what matters is not the time I take to chase, but what the chase will eventually end up as. I guess you could call that…the victory party.
-open one eye-
Speaking of women of certain professions, I’m all for legalizing it. Too much fuss over something that’s going to go on anyway. People need to get off their high horses and stop pretending that we’re a solely religious socialist nation. And besides…at least half of the women not doing it professionally do it for free anyway. Folks just need to WRAP IT UP.
-notice there’s someone next to me-
And it all comes back to me.
I had an agreeably blurry night…the kind that you can remember the good bits and still judge if the mama you’re going home with is actually hot, but tinged with an acceptable level of tipsy happiness. I know I wasn’t unruly – not really my style - and I know I didn’t come home with anyone…so who was this?
-she turns, still sleeping-
Ah. Yes. Fumbling with the key to my apartment at 3 in the morning. A hand helping me – the next door neighbour’s pretty wife who I’ve always thought is secretly a freak. I ask no questions as to why she’s in the hallway at 3 in the morning, because many questions get you expansive space for a bedfellow. Then…more fumbling. *disclaimer…blame it*
The neighbour’s wife. Ok. Well. This is manageable. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, it’s just that…it wasn’t usually the next door neighbour. Granted, I don’t like the fool, but still.
-she’s awake. She smiles and says “Morning.”-
She has a glint in her eye. I generally like glints. They’re a foreshadowing of good things to come. Maybe this whole next door neighbour thing could work out. There’s no denying the convenience…and the forbidden fruit appeal never, ever dies.
-my phone beeps. I climb out of bed to take it in the living room.-
I don’t necessarily remember which one the one who called is, but her voice on the phone holds great promise. Looks like I have a date this evening. I walk back into the bedroom. She’s propped up on her elbow and watches me walk in. “Are we going to use that?”
-waste not,want not-