Back in the land of off the pill
This week, I can't take the hormones, pheromones, pull, or push out of it. Can't get the sex out of it. If I so much as talk to an attractive man -- or even if a plain man makes me laugh -- my body wonders when we're going to go there. It doesn't TELL me to go there, mind you. Just flashes a little window with a question mark in it. Go away, window, you're distracting me!
Is that what happens when you're skirting the borders of 30?
And is this how men feel all-the-time?
Is that what happens when you're skirting the borders of 30?
And is this how men feel all-the-time?