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Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Comedy · #1101879
Hilarious account of the difficulties of abstinence. . . And a God's take on it. . .
Hmmm. . . I've been abstinate since March. . . and I want sex. But not just any, old sex. Fierce, ramming, meaningless sex and afterwords I want to have to chain smoke a minimum of three cigarettes just to feel grounded again. Making love would be nice too, but I don't know how well equipped I am, momentarily, for seeing the person edleast weekly that's fucking my brains out, or how enthused I am for all of the emotional baggage that attatches itself for the ride.
Though, as I watch my little brother's skanky porn that he carries with him everywhere hidden in the side pockets of his Yu-Gi-Oh! trading card book, I just don't know if I could. Edleast not fierce, ramming, meaningless, naked sex. Because I'm around 155 lbs. and have a complex that does not exclude donning shorts and a tank-top (even in ninety-degree temperatures) that may as well have arrows pointing to my arm flab and a nice, little quote saying; "Yes, fat nests here, (and on the back) but the cottage cheese migrates at my thighs". Plus, a total stranger being able to view and invade everything from my ankles (which I can safely say I have no problem with), to my innermost cavaities (excluding any butt tampering, of course. . .) would be a tough pill to swallow. Even if this certain person would stay a total stranger possibly through random booty calls. That is, if the booty in question is worth having laying around on any given Sunday (or Monday, Tuesday, Wendsday. . . ). I think if I had about three or four shots of some unnamed, ecceptionally strong beverage and a very sexy, very available specimen I would be ready to have my hips blown out of thier sockets. . . indeed as nude as the day I was born. Until then, I suppose skany porn and ingenuity will have to suffice.
The way I see it, I should definitely have edleast one incredibly, mind-numbing fling, the sooner the better. Because I really don't want to wake up one day, realize God's binding ring is on my finger, and freak out because I've never had a truely animal, raw, fresh, over-zealous, spontaneous, passion soaked, ramming experience to relive when times are tough. Then decide now's the time, cheat on my husband because he's just as repressed and sexually mute as I am, get caught, go through a sticky, paper or plastic divorce (after a rather unsticky marraige), put my children through Hell and have them hate me for the rest of my life because I was in a blinding need of release, succumbed to the heat of the moment and am thought of as a big, undomestic slut who couldn't control her vagina.
Then again, it could very well just be hormones. (Wow, it's ironic that the word "hormones", which drive our libidos, possesses a root word of w 'hor' e.) I know through many frustrated nights that my own chemicals are going haywire and flowing merrily through my body while laughing at me because I can't do a damn thing about it. Well, I can develope carpal tunnel, purchase a dildo, (and go through the humiliation of having my little cousins run through the house, in front of my grandparents, waving it like a goddamned freedom flag), become a slut after a scorned ex, plus his shower scorning brother develope lock-jaw from making up more than a mouthful of scandilous stories of trains and double features or, give in and really become a full-fledged whore. I already know what my plea would be; "My 'whore'mones were surpressed until they drove my vagina clinically insane, and you just can't surpress craziness".
If God came to me in my dreams (and caught me committing an extended display and extended variety of perverted damnable sins of the mind) only one question would pop into that mind and through my lips before I could force my mouth to a halt,
"Dear God, is this just the beginning?" He would give me the look my Grandpa gave me when he heard my little cousins screaming, "We found a penis in Jessi's room, and its pink!", just before he repremanded them for snooping from behind clenched eyelids.
"Exuse me Lord, I apologize for the handcuffs and Jack Sparrow who is tied to a four-posted, victorian bed with haughty, red satin sheets, the ceiling composed of mirrors and the whipped cream which is in his mouth." Everything dissapears, but the bed, and the satin sheets left rumpled hanging over the bedpost, which seconds ago bound Johnny Depp's hands and made him my prisoner.
"Oh, my child, you are forgiven. It is natural. However, it is not the fantasy of fornication which is your sin. It is the unnatural circumstances and endeavors which have taken residence in this dream. Come here to the bed." Replies God.
"Wow, I have to admit it would be a power trip, but, uh, I think that's a little more than I can handle, even if I'm asleep. I'm sorry to turn you down, but I'm sure you can get into a willing participants, head. You are God afterall." I would reply, while he emits an amused chuckle. "Do you have an answer for me, Lord?"
"To what question, again, my child?" Says He, while letting my ridiculous remark pass because He knows the confidence boost is a positive thing, even if it's false.
"Uh, well, is this just the beginning of, you know?" I say slightly uncomfortable, even if it is God, and with one glimpse he could know everything nobody knows. Again that amused chuckle and following it the words;
"Nature is full of infinite causes which were never set forth in experience." A pause, "Da Vinci. When the first seed grew the first tree, apparently it was a good idea, and billions of trees have been birthed since. The only time a tree does not produce offspring, or go through photosynthesis is if not given the oppurtunity. But unlike trees, humans cans decide for themselves whether to engage in sex, but you cannot stop nature. Keep up with your prayers, my child, for I noticed you haven't been lately. . .I am always listening." After a quick wink and accompanying smirk He will leave as suddenly as He came. He will leave me knowing that the only way to stop my cravings is to dismiss my nature, but edleast I have a new question; "Does giving in mean I am weak of nature, or wise because I understand my nature?"
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