And so again, carnal knowledge of a new woman and the sense of glad new morning. All the anger and tensions and afflictions of the spirit, gone utterly.
Yes, that’s it, she seemed secretly amused by the situation, by her strange power over my male body. Like a bionic interloper from some far sexless planet, flawless female form adopted to infiltrate the earthly natives, study their quaint habits, compatriots observing from a console in the sky, trying to figure out, what the hell is that man doing to her, what is he letting her do to him? Maybe she was thinking, this is silly, they’re playing some sort of prank, better put on a faint smile, show I’m in on the joke.
Now, sitting down on a public bench, a pond and trees in the distance, thinking, as a pure physical sexual experience, she’s as close to perfect as is possible to be, maybe even too much so, it proved impossible to be in her presence for more than a few minutes without climaxing. But as a personal engagement, near negligible. No vestige whatever, no durable imprint, nothing, just a small sensory aftermath like the memory of a photograph.
Wonder if I’ll ever see her again. Maybe. She sure was beautiful, she sure had sexual power. Yet our twenty minutes together seemed enough, sufficient to exhaust the possibilities, do it again and it’ll feel like a mere repeat. Nothing more to explore, no adventures to share, no discoveries to jointly make, no places to boldly go. Best just to celebrate the marvelous but limited moment, and move on.
Collecting myself, rising from the park bench, walking again in the sunshine, happy to be alive.
