Yes, I Have A Libido

i have a libido, and it is getting a little bit out of hand.

since i'm either working, or trying to go to sleep and wishing i didn't have to work again so soon, or maybe even sleeping, i haven't had time to like... take care of business... in i don't even know how long.

yes, i'm talking about masturbation.

because lord knows i don't have sex. i haven't had sex in almost four years. and that, my friends, is way, way, WAAAAAY TOOOOO LOOONG.

but that's all right. its fine. i have hands. i have a fun silicon friend. i have lube. and i have porn. i can manage for now.

but really... like, i've started a few times. i'll scrounge around on x-tube, hunting down hot amateur action videos. i'll get all hot and bothered.

but i haven't "closed the deal" in quite some time.

i haven't even gone to the gym and sublimated my urges into fifty minute sessions on the elliptical machine.

and its all starting to adversely effect the rest of my life.

today, personal-trainer T. (venti americano with a half inch of steamed heavy whipping cream) came into the store. dude is six four, with that special V-shaped torso you only get with good genes and taking really, really good care of yourself. like, i've always thought T. was hot. with those mean athletic thighs that look so good in tight blue jeans... i'm getting hot right now. so today, he comes in, and i'm just like, GODDAMN! the shaved head, the strong jaw-line, those ridiculous shoulders and arms... i'm totally going menopausal. i'm having hot flashes.

so he gets his drink, and a little later i go on a spin to clean the store. and i'm cleaning the condiment bar, which backs up to a window wall between the store and the bookstore. and T. is sitting at the table right beyond the window, facing away from me. and i'm confronted with the expanse of his back, stretching his tight red and black striped t-shirt.

and i'm cleaning slower, and slower... and i try and see what he's reading. honestly, i do. like, i'm unwilling to realize what's going on.

and i'm cleaning more and more slowly, and then i'm like, "oh. OH. i see. i'm standing here staring at T., nigh on fantasizing about him, and apparently i'm willing to forget about my job in order to stare at him. apparently, i'm willing to clean more and more slowly until i'm no longer cleaning and am in fact just humping the glass between us and drooling on myself. its all clear now."

yes. and then, BEST PART!, i feel the need to tell my coworker about it. as though it were any of their business, and as though i would ever be comfortable sharing that with anyone but a close friend. i was immediately mortified.

"i can't believe i TOLD her that!..."

well, i did.

clearly, i need the big O, and fast, or i'm going to go insane. er.

insaner.

but goddamn he's so fucking hot...