I'd F*ck Me

I sexually assaulted women today. Not in a way that will require me to register as a sex offender; none of the women knew they were my victims. It all happened in my head.

I followed actions of POTUS, or any dick, and pictured you naked, well, not all of you. Just the ones that make me great again. I chose to hold my head higher.

Fuck. Tits are everywhere.

You can't get around 'em.

(yes, dicks are everywhere too, but they are easy to get around)

Back to my mission. The sexy scenario I tried to put your chest in was not sexy at all. Your boobs, (why wouldn't they be?) are naked, but not sexy. Because, all I can envision is, waiting, with accelerated breath, for the soft knock of a Doctor....but, this isn't porn.. Talk about a limp dick kinda scenario.

Still, your breasts became mine. You had no idea. My breasts, and, honestly, my time, have never been so out of my hands. I am not even responsible for making my own appointments, I just have to show up (not my strong point, without clothes on) ....my breasts are openly displayed and examined.

Closer to an alien abduction than a sexual fantasy. Which sucks.

But, if I breath with intention, through my belly, through all of me, with all of you , and with all of the things...I can make ME great again, which, ironically, is Trump's new mantra.

I am just now thinking this through, so bare (yes, like, naked) with me.

My breasts now, at 45, are still 'leave-the-light-on' foreplay knock-outs. Does my sexuality lay on a surgical table with the diseased tissue of double mastectomy? Fuck no.

But. Am I really strong enough to believe that, or, live it. Maybe I need that space. Maybe my chest needs a small time out. Like the remaining senses of the blind, could my sexuality become even stronger?

And...Like a teenage boy, I am grossed out by this.

And...Like most women, I think, 'why the hell would you do that?"

But stronger, there beats wise energy that drums me above the concerns of yours. A knowing, that perhaps, I should keep my focus on the impending fight for a life of light, love and purpose. I mean, shit, there's still time to be a porn star in my own bedroom, after I strip myself of bullshit sexual norms. Maybe I need to know I had the courage to stare at myself naked and think, "ya, I'd fuck me.' Wait, that sounds creepy. Bring it. What will naked look like in the after?

I don't know. But, I discovered I am not good at sexual assault. I look at your body, every body, as sexually stunning. But, it will only be your character, wit and soul that get me in the sack. And that's true Jitterbug Perfume shit. That kinda fucking is immortal.

And I will have a 'turn-the-fluorescents-on' rack, I know, I may just need a moment in the dark.