Paean

Deep in concentration, a beautiful woman reads a tantalizing title.

In which I admire the human form, stimulated by the power of my imagination.

A verbal appreciation of a human’s visual self-presentation.

A lovely brunette….

What can I tell in a brief glance at someone about her sexuality? Sometimes, nothing. But sometimes, I imagine, a woman broadcasts everything I might want to know, just by how she carries herself. Yes, by how she dresses, sure.…

When you dress yourself, you tell a story. Your panties can tell one story, if you intend anything about your selection to be visible under, through, above what goes on top of them. They can tell another if they’re not…

Brown roots, blonde hair, in a topknot. Big, big brown eyes. Caramel skin, smooth. A black lacy tank top, exposing just a quarter inch of midriff before her torn jeans start. Her C-cup breasts are big for her tiny body.…

We’ve been interacting on Tinder for about a week. Her profile has three photos. They’re all of her in the same yummy, slinky dress. Her hair is jet black. Her eyes, almond-shaped, are, I think, brown. (It’s hard to tell…

She’s 5’6″, only a foot from me. Her cheeks are wide and her cheekbones are high, an improbable striking combination. Her curly blonde hair is held up by a pair of pink and black cheap plastic sunglasses. A black lacy…

This isn’t my writing, it’s that of a friend. But it’s hot, and so I share it with you: She appears, as so many of the subjects of my paeans do, on the bus I take to the gym. She’s…