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Hunger Part IV

I feel the sharp pang of disappointment as I realize that my own psyche has left me stranded on the floor, bereft of the means and energy to scale the soaring walls of delight that I was so close to conquering moments ago. I weaken as the rush of passion ebbs and the soft focus of arousal fades, replaced by the harsh glare of the fluorescent bulb above me and the coarse rub of the nylon rug beneath me.

Also, I sadly conclude that my pubic artwork has fallen short of the erotic masterpiece I was aiming for. I sit embarrassed and exposed in front of the mirror, the missed hairs suddenly more prominent and seeming to grow like grass in time-lapse while I watch. I am concerned about what he will think and say when he comes back from his trip. By then, sharp little twigs will be sprouting throughout my nether region and I will be scratching myself to relieve the constant accompanying itch.

‘What were you thinking?’ I chastise myself and scowl at the cloak that my clit has nervously slunk back into. ‘Carpe diem indeed.’

With a start, I stand and stride to my room where I quickly open multiple drawers of my dresser and pick out the components of an outfit that will suffice for the rest of the afternoon. I step into a pair of opaque blue panties and am reminded by the grating fabric that my depilatory maneuvers were inadequate to the task. I place my breasts into the cups of a front-clasping matching bra and quickly evaluate the ensemble before sitting on the bed to pull my blue jeans up my legs and past my knees. Standing up, I wriggle the jeans over my thighs and then jump a little to secure them around my hips at which time I close the dull gold buttons that run up the front seam and serve as the first line of defense to my sex.

Quickly, I pull a gray sweatshirt stenciled with navy blue ‘Grand Canyon’ lettering over my head and wrench it down to my waist. I tug a pair of light wool socks over my feet and patter over to the hallway where my ten pairs of boots and sneakers lay randomly strewn across the floor of the closet. Pondering the sight, I reach down and rescue my favorite pale gray light hiking boots from the chaos, pull them on and lace them up. I grab my keys, strap on a waist purse, flick off the lights and walk out of the apartment. I listen for the reassuring click when I turn the two deadbolts after I close the door.

Updated: December 21, 2016 — 11:10 pm
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