Sexless in the City

Forget about the 30 day blog challenge for now. I've got more pressing concerns in my life.  For one thing, I haven't had sex in 33 days. I'm ready to scrape my eye out with an ice pick. This is senseless!

My body is on fire.  I think about sex at least every hour, on the hour.  And I wonder,  can the man standing on the corner smell me? Can the woman glancing at me taste it?

My skin is porcelain delicate and hypersensitive. If anyone should brush up against me on the street, in the grocery aisle,  I just might spontaneously orgasm.

And nothing, nothing else will satisfy this hunger except the touch of  a woman.  Not self,  not thought, not mediation or yoga. Please. Hurry. Come. Discipline me.

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