Well, dear readers, something happens i9n April in a college town. In the winter, perhaps a trip to Walmart will involve me noticing a woman more usually closer to my own age or even older, but all those college girls, for one thing, are not out in force, but for another thing, aren't dressed like that! . But a few warm days, and a chance trip to town for bargains, and one after the other after the other intrigue me. I'm like, "she's hot, wow so is she...there goes another, " and by the end of the half hour I've mentally fucked a dozen women, all under 23 or so, and not a damn one made eye contact with me, flirted with me, or knew I existed.
i wish we lived in a world where we could be as honest in a Walmart as we sometimes are online with women from who knows where from sometimes. Imagine coming up and just laying it out there. "Pardon me, but do you realize your cleavage shows around 45% of your breast, which by the way is of perfect roundness and desirability, and between the sight of your boobs and the beauty in your eyes, I just want to tell you that if you want to have your pussy eaten like it's never been eaten before, here's my number, my email, and an offer to show you the hardest orgasm you've ever known." Now, as someone who generally appreciates subtle seduction and the delicious ache that comes with the anticipation of the what if's of the lesbian flirtation process as it applies to a closet fem like me, I have to admit, I wish there were a time and place where that kind of blunt force forwardness was welcome.
Now throw this into the mix. In addition to the annual showing of the cleavage festival the advent of spring brings about around here, now I run into the girl with the "I Kiss Girls" T-shirt, the two co-eds who were obviously a couple and in a very public display of affection that went beyond (sorority?) sisterly, and the girl who was not dressed to impress a woman per se, showing enough skin and tattoos to make it impossible not to associate the term "slutty" if even for a fleeting moment, and trust me when I tell you that I don't mean that term in any derogatory way at all, especially with the rush of blood in my veins her look inspires, making me feel like a trucker dyke with a chain wallet and a thick redneck accent saying under my breath "I'd like to fuck that."
While I confess this lust of the impossible connections to you, what simultaneously bothers me is that while I am ogling tits and mentally undressing these women as much as 15 years younger than me, trying to imagine their "I'm coming" eyes while multitasking the pricing of macaroni and cheese and pretending to listen to my 9 year olds enthusiasm for the latest video game he craves, is that my sex drive geared up like this, in this way, goes firmly against everything I would LIKE to pride myself that the lesbian me is about. That I CLAIM to be attracted to ... the sense of humor and intellect and "I'm interested in you" reactions to a good give and take conversation, seems non-existent when large, medium, and small breasted women of the community I live in insist upon choosing every stitch of clothing to torment me into aching, bursting, needing to masturbate horniness :)
So masturbate I will ...in my next post. :)
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