Tuesday, October 20, 2009
It's sick and wrong to be this horny. I feel like an old pervert. Grokking every halfway adorable male I see. I can't seem to help but notice the hotness I'm surrounded by. Usually- I can just look and I'm good. As of late, however, I find myself literally salivating. Captivated by the curve of lip, the swell of bicep. The fluid way their bodies move. I'm a happily married woman, and honestly were I to get my hot little hands on one of these pieces of beefcake I'd probably be happy to tell him to take off his shirt so I could ogle, then send his tight adorable hiney away. But still! I know with Ian gone my hormones are all a mess. And I know I'm nearing my sexual peak (at 30 something, how's that for fair?) and yet I'm still caught off guard by an amazing display of manhood. A spectacular spectator sport of trying not to rubberneck like a fiend on collage campuses (where I should be banned, really) or at certain coffee shops.