Monday, October 17, 2005

Every Want Rebounds From Such A Perfect Curve

We women have the most curious hormones. Truly. I wish you men could feel this stuff, it’s amazing. (Yes, sometimes it sucks, but it’s still amazing.)

The female cycle rotates like this:

Day 1, Period
Day 15, Ovulation
Day 29, Period
Day 43, Ovulation

And so on and so on unless you get pregnant, then it’s something like:

Day 1, Period
Day 15, Ovulation
Day 29, Freaking out, where is period?
Day 30, Buy Pregnancy Test. Freak out some more.
Day 31, Puke, puke some more, repeat for several months

Right before The Crimson Permanent Assurance sails, around Day 27, I become a guy…a 16-year-old, horny, quivering mass of pent-up sexual energy. It would be pathetic if it weren’t so much fun. I hands-free-masturbate in the car, continuously. I masturbate in the shower with repeated offenses. I’ve even been known to wrangle Sergei into a several-hours-long sex-fest.

Epic.

(Daydreaming…sighing….)

Anyway. The same is true right after the Crimson sails out of port, say, Day 8. The rush of fresh hormones feels something like inching up the crest of a roller coaster, that first big hill, where you know very soon you’re gonna drop and the world will race under you and your heart can’t beat fast enough and you scream “AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Your seat gets wet, not with sweat, buck-o, and your body tenses and you can’t stop that feeling like you’re gonna die but if you get off it’ll be a big letdown.

‘Course with this new fountain of youth comes fantasy. Driving to work this morning, I saw a young man cross the street, backpack slung casually over one shoulder, sleepy sexy look on his face. He looked like this guy from the Guy Ritchie films. Who I never realized I had a crush on til this morning. Mr. Dangerous-Cute saw me as I passed, I made that little sound we women make when we see something yummy. Now I’m at work with my pump primed and can’t do anything about it. It’s Day 8, people. I’ve already handed over my ride ticket, I’m strapped in and the car is inching it’s way up to the top, and my hands are in the air, waving.

Sergei, honey, eat well today, because later, when the kids are in bed, I’m gonna throw you down and pour sex all over you.

1 Comments:

At 11:01 PM, Blogger The Assimilated Negro said...

yowza!

 

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