12 April 2008
Mating Season
Ignore everything anyone ever told you: men have a mating season, and it’s fast approaching.
Yesterday was the first sign this year that summer is on its way. So with the sun beating down on my face, and not a cloud in the sky, I decided to walk into town for my job interview instead of getting the bus.
The scenic route into town — instead of the straight walk down the main road — takes you down a lovely mile-long canal path, punctuated with graceful swans, moored barges, and picturesque locks, that opens out onto the town’s big public park. On days like this, freshly cut grass, moderate heat, and the Easter holidays combine to make perfect sunbathing weather.
Idly strolling through the park I spotted a young, pretty woman lying flat on her back; her knee-length skirt allowing a generous view of her legs and her long, brown hair lying over her breasts, slightly obscuring her cleavage. For a moment, I considered how wonderful it would be to lower myself onto her and beat her pelvis into the grass, running my hands over every inch of her body, and felt a familiar tightening in my jeans.
I altered my course so I was heading towards the public toilets, where I stayed until my erection subsided, making me late for my job interview.
Mating season is coming, and it doesn’t give a fuck if you have somewhere else to be.