Possessable Parts
I have said that I would like to live my life as an attractive black gay man in the Central West End. But I have to ask, after seeing L's pretty new girl-of-the-week, who wouldn't want to be an attractive black man, period? Who wouldn't want to live life with all that beautiful brown flesh laid out before him? Who wouldn't want those ebony and chocolate and carmel skins under him, smooth as honey underneath him? Who wouldn't want his hands sliding over their lovely hips, pulling them in, pushing himself in, possessing them? Who wouldn't want, not only the physical act of pleasure, but more importantly, the conquering, the insertion of your being into another?
Doesn't it seem that women are made up of possessable parts, of buttocks to be grabbed, breasts to be kneaded, lips to be captured? That hungry look in a man's eye as he beholds a female, isn't that just his desire to enact God's will? God made man in His image, made men like Him, and through women they are allowed to feel something of His glory. A man, plunging into women must, in those moments, see himself as Lord; able to drink up their faith, able to offer his mercy, required to give only when he sees fit.
Doesn't it seem that women are made up of possessable parts, of buttocks to be grabbed, breasts to be kneaded, lips to be captured? That hungry look in a man's eye as he beholds a female, isn't that just his desire to enact God's will? God made man in His image, made men like Him, and through women they are allowed to feel something of His glory. A man, plunging into women must, in those moments, see himself as Lord; able to drink up their faith, able to offer his mercy, required to give only when he sees fit.