When Horniness Attacks!

Horniness loves to yank your chain and right when you’re busy doing the daily errands that sometimes simply can’t wait.  Walking the busy downtown streets, with things to do and people to see, my horniness threatened to overtake me and I had serious visions of myself losing my mind in broad daylight.  I wanted to yell at men passing by “Hey buddy, want a blowjob!?  Blowjobs!  Blowjobs!  Get your blowjobs here!”  The grizzled homeless men on the street appealed to me – I figured they probably hadn’t had a decent blowjob in ages and they’re men too!  I began to fetishize their unruly, unkempt beards.  I was out of control.   I felt like George Michael on speed.

Passing a lamppost, I noticed a sign taped to it that read “TOPS WANTED!”  Oh goody, I thought, a sign meant just for me!  Out there, somewhere, was a bottom desperately wanting to be serviced.  Rounding the lamppost a little more and I realized the sign read “LAPTOPS WANTED!” and I was heartbroken.  And so onward I trudged to the department store.

At the department store, I waited in line at customer service to make a minute payment on an outrageously high credit card bill.  Waiting in line, I noticed advertisements for a men’s line of clothing called TOPMAN.  What joy, what bliss!  A clothing line aimed at men like me!  But peering closer at the clothing itself, I realized that I wouldn’t be wearing that style of clothing until I was safely ensconced in Happy Day nursing home.  I somberly made my laughable credit card payment and forged on to the grocery store.

While in line to pay for my groceries, I noticed that the blonde, bearded guy in front of me with the army ball cap was a guy I had hooked up with when I first moved to this city’s Gay Village.  And I also remembered that’d I’d disappointingly cum almost the minute I’d entered him.  In shame, I prayed that the sex gods would keep him from turning to notice me.  (Dear Reader, you think I make this shit up, but these are the things that happen when you live in the Village.  I would not be having this problem if I lived in Ohio – or would I?).

Carting the two bags of groceries home, something poked my leg.  It was the English cucumber I’d purchased, and it stood erect in my grocery bag, aching for release.  It was only when I got to my building and in the elevator that I noticed the other end of the cucumber had broken through the plastic bag, pleading to penetrate something.  Oh Cucumber, I thought....you and me both.

This is Horniness...