The other day Michelle and I were joking about referring to her vagina as the Bush administration.
Sex was “taking up a position in the Bush administration.”
When I had some pre-come issues, it was “a leak in the Bush administration.”
(That will never stop being funny, right?)
Point is, I’ve developed a thing for hair. The pubic variety, armpits included.
I find it very telling that this happens during chastity. (It has happened before.)
If I am coming every day or so, my visual preference starts to drift back to shaved soft porn girls, who are superficially sexy but in many ways pubescent and generally not as mature, or powerful, as the type of woman I begin to lust after when I haven’t come in a few weeks.
It is like the difference between opting for some soft-serve ice cream when I have a sugar craving but am not really hungry, and sitting down to some kind of rich meal, spicy but wholesome, when I am really starving.
Body hair is at the centre of that. Maybe I use the food analogy because my wife smells like cumin and coriander and pine resin and toast and lime and pepper, and the hair is at the centre of her smell.
Or maybe, it is just the way it looks.