Yes. I am a guy. (Sorry gals and over-sensitive men, this is going to be a “guy” post. I won’t be insulted if you decide to skip it.) Those who know me at least have a clue as to my political and ideological leanings. And yet, I am a guy. There are certain reactions that are hard-wired into me, and I suspect would cause LOTS of problems if I were to try to remove those reactions.

There are times, when in the course of living, a man meets certain examples of the species “woman”. People talk about “stunning beauty” and how rare it is, but I beg to differ. I am frequently stunned by the beauty I see around me. I sometimes feel like a baby in a backpack carrier, trying to memorize who and what I see. It is not the stunning beauties that really affect me, though, it is the women who literally start me salivating that causes problems. In my life, I’ve encountered very few women who start me salivating just by seeing them. In the past five years, there have only been 3 that come to mind. The first I met in 2010. The breaking off of that relationship threw me into a tail spin that I’m only now starting to truly recover from. The second two I’ve met within the past week and a half to two weeks.

The amusing, or perhaps the appropriate word is “coincidental”, thing is that in each case, they appeared shortly after I started writing stories with erotic themes, whether it was romantica, pure erotica, or eroti-drama. It kind of makes me wonder what would happen if I ever get any of them published. My question: is this a case of life imitating art? or art informing life? Either way, possibilities seem to be opening all around me.

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