Desire is a peculiar thing. It sort of creeps up on you and starts laying eggs in your brain like so many spiders crawling all over you in your sleep. I have these moments of desire, more often than I like to admit in polite conversation. It doesn’t take much these days. Perhaps a quick flutter of the eye lashes from a pretty girl or a friendly girlish smile and all of a sudden I feel an increase in my delicate libido.
It’s a very strange thing to be a human being and fight these urges of raw sexuality. Common sense society dictates that I not go around trying to put my penis in every hot woman I see, but as I write this last blog of 2012 I’m compelled to feel, for lack of a better term, horny.
It’s those wonderful tights women wear, and their make-up and their shape and their softness and their hair and their hands and their voice and their smiles and nods and gentle manner. I’m a sucker for it all. I want it all.
It’s seems a bit cheeky and crude to describe my desire in this way. But for me, it’s rather par for the course. Any woman that actually knows me, I mean really knows me, will read this and shake her head and say, “Yup, that’s Michael. He’s a total horn dog”. It’s no shock to them how very invigorated I am about love making. I’m quite expressive about my desire for some level of sensitivity…and coitus.
Desire makes men do silly things. In fact, I think we are genetically engineered to be complete and total asses about the whole thing. Sex, we just want it. Actually, I don’t think sexual preference has anything to do with it. I know a few homosexuals that have more sex than is to be believed. Seriously. I mean, damn. But it’s so much more than “just sex” for me.
I can’t seem to shake the thought of breathlessly kissing a woman as our hands move over each others bodies. I so enjoy kissing and feeling a woman close against me. There is something about how our hearts beat fast and the blood rushing about, flooding the brain with irrational thought and increased expectations. A crazy, pulse quickening roller coaster of intensity as each of us pulls in closer, as close as we can possibly be, touching and feeling and wanting.
This feeling is great if you have someone to share it with. It’s awesome to share a mutual desire. It is not so great when you’re single. It’s cruel and evil and leads us to sending text messages to ex-girlfriends and random women that you just met. It leads to ogling and leering and laughing at terrible jokes from other lonely men when there is a pretty woman around. It makes us look silly and completely undesirable.
Therein lays the rub. When desire comes calling on the single man he becomes a ravenous beast of a thing. All he (I) can think about is holding that special woman in his (my) arms and kissing her and hugging her and letting his (my) hands explore every square inch of her body.
“What’s electricity? The only electricity is what’s going on here between me and my lady”.
Fire alarm going off?
“Damn right it is”.
That’s all we (me) can think about when kissing a beautiful woman. It’s so basic. Desire, want, it has me all discombobulated at times. It makes me write crazy final 2012 blogs that my mother will likely read and say, “I’ve raised a pervert”. Well, you haven’t Mom. It’s perfectly natural for a man of my age to be completely obsessed with lady parts. At least I respect women enough to want them so badly.
It’s more than just basic coitus though. There is a component of wanting to be wanted that plays into it. It’s great to kiss a woman but if she’s not all that happy to kiss you back then the whole project is just a waste and really should be put back on the drafting table for re-examination by the staff. Maybe there needs to be an atrium. That’s why desire is so tricky. It’s okay to want someone in an intimate way. It’s cruelty when they don’t want you back. I think I should coin the term, “unrequited intimacy”.
This is not to say that I think we should violate the rules of a moral and Victorian society regarding sexuality. There’s a code of behavior that goes with wanting someone, or at least I believe there is, and it’s just not done to go about being a complete beast about it all. But with the New Year approaching and that stroke of midnight nearing, all I can think about it having a woman with me to kiss and hold as we sing Auld Lang Sine.
This is just honesty; it’s real and far more common than most people will admit. I’m not hung up on keeping it to myself and I see no reason not to write about it. People may complain that I write about this sort of thing too often, but to them I say, it is what it is. I am who I am. It’s real emotion and thought and yes, even desire and I’m not afraid of it. You shouldn’t be either.
I hope you have that special someone in mind for that New Years kiss. I’ve had an interesting 2012, I hope 2013 will be better.
Now…who wants to make out with me tonight?