Men, what would we do without you, your hungry probing members, your wonderful raw appetites, your roving hands and eager appreciation of a short skirt on a windy day. Walking past a busy building site we are reminded by you why God gave us curves and sleek thighs, flowing hair and beguiling eyelashes.
But we appreciate ourselves as well, some of us too much. Some of us are so taken by what we have we want to enjoy it for ourselves, and need to share kisses with our own kind from time to time, to remind ourselves how pleasurable the swell of a breast feels in our hands or to explore a moist crevice as the sweet creature we are enjoying gasps and pants in enjoyment of our attention.
And of course, knowing how, as females, we benefit from those occasional painful lessons we have to learn across the knee, our panties humiliatingly lowered and our protests ignored, so with our own kind we take pleasure in administering pleasurable punishments from time to time, pinking our partner’s pretty bottoms till we feel the need to kiss it all better and start again from the beginning, exchanging endearments with our fluids.
Dear God, thank you for making me a girl. Amen!
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