My fellow reader,
Let me tell you about the most incredible erogenous zone both men and women share.
It fuses your body with excitement, translating a simple sensory input into the prospect of pleasures to come: The view of body curve shaping layers of garment transformed into the place where you might linger your tongue on later. A scent that reawakens memories of the morning you woke up from a blissful night. Words that start a private movie picture inside your head with yourself as the protagonist.
The brain is such a...ah, c'mon, let's stop over-theorizing this and come back to the interesting part about the words that fuel your fantasy.
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"What have I done to deserve this?" Wanda complained to no one in particular but the world itself. She was slightly bent over the kitchen sink, opening a recently bought package of carrots to find each and every single one showing disgusting spots of mold. Sweat was dropping down from her chin into the sink, but not because of her efforts to prepare lunch. The day had turned out be the
grande finale
to an already blazing hot mid-summer week when the tar in the road grooves had turned into a black sticky mass around 9 am.
Frank, her husband, unpacking the early morning's purchases, made a step from the fridge towards the sink. Leaning in he could not let the chance slip to feel up her sparsely clad butt cheeks. With concern in his voice, he asked, "What's wrong? Cut yourself?"
Wanda grabbed the carrot package and pushed it under his nose. "Look at this. Shiny in the morning, spoiled at noon. I curse this whole damn waste-bin society." Letting the package fall back into the sink, she sighed deeply. "Well, I guess that's the sudden death of the carrot mango smoothie surprise." She looked sideways at Frank quizzically. "But I'm sure you can live without, for once?"
"Fair lady, do not let this bagatelle set a wrinkle on your lovely face," he gently caressed her cheek. "Your ignoble butler has foreseen the worst. In his humble manner he did not miss out to prepare for the most unlikely event of your highness' failure." Frank returned to the fridge and opened the door. His hand reappeared from the paradisiac chill with two blue glass bottles of beer. "Finest brew from the green valleys of...ah, who cares. And, wow, the bottles even match your eye color."
Wanda snorted with laughter. "Dream on, drama queen. It's rice wafers and a pair of lettuce leaves for the belly man."
Frank tried to elongate his bulbous body as much as possible, stretching his arm up against the fridge. Inhaling as much of his tummy as possible, he asked, "Belly man? Who could that be? Think, think..." After a second of mocked up pondering, he slapped his forehead. "Oh, silly me, you're talking about John from down the road? Why didn't you let me know about our special guest for lunch?"
Wanda shook her head. "How could I dare to invite anyone, knowing
you
wouldn't spare a breadcrumb for the birds?"
Turning to him with a bitter-sweet smile, she added. "By the way, the next time you nonchalantly refer to my 'wrinkly face', I'm gonna have a surprise for you."
"Yeah? What would that be?"
"Believe it or not. I'm going to get you a nice six-pack."
"Yeess, you really know how to treat your man." Frank raised his hand anticipating a high five.
"...by properly handling this little bagatelle!" Wanda, featuring an angry face, pointed her index finger on her husband's fifth month pregnant lookalike front side and poked deep into the masses again and again.
Frank screamed with laughter and raised his arms in surrender. "Mercy, have mercy on me."
"Yeah, yeah, stop it. You're such a lousy actor. No academy award for you, ever." Packing up the moldy carrots Wanda, commanded him, "C'mon, time for action. Take the carrots to the composter, please."
"Wanda, how many times do I have to go out there before you give that little fruit shop of horror a decent scolding? It reads 'fresh vegetables' on the package. There's no label 'best before last week'. You know what, wrap them up again. I'll take it back and file a complaint. It's for the good of everyone."
"Frank, relax. You know it's Luke working in the produce section. I don't want to give him a hard time."
"Luke? Who's Luke?"
Wanda looked at him confused. "Luke! Caroline's son!" She pointed out of the kitchen window to the rear of their garden. "Caroline, neighbor? Luke, son? Something's ringing?" Her head turned to look outside towards their neighbors' house. "Oh, forget about going to the supermarket. Luke is already home from work."
"Ooh, that Luke." Frank glanced out of the window to see a bare chested young man hanging clothes. "Would you like me to complain to him right here, right now?"
"No! Nooo!" she yelled. "You stay in! Look at that sweetheart! Bears a helping hand with the household for his mom. Learn from watching! Here, put those in the trash." With that Wanda slammed the carrot package into Frank's abdomen which stirred a slight wobble. "You do know that he needs the job at the supermarket. Caroline is having some trouble, supporting his studies at the university. But, of course, you know, since you are her penny-pinching slavedriver boss, Mr. Potbelly." Once again, her index finger found its way into his front. "When was the last time you gave her a pay raise?"
"That's a trade secret." Catching her killing glance, he offered, "Right next Monday?"
"Good boy. I'm so very proud of having such a cute, sensitive man at my side," Wanda gave his cheek a firm pinch. "See, that didn't give you a hard time, did it?"