George didn't think about it all the time. It was simply pleasant to get comfy, lean back and recollect, imagine every so often.
I thank my lucky stars I've lived long enough to go nutty over older women's bodies. It's not anything I ever thought I'd go nutty over.
With each one, you can't memorize the whole body. There's so much going on! Contours aplenty, shapes galore, curves, mounds, crannies, sections soft, hard, comfy to hold. When they move any which way, they change! Nothing is ever the same, there's constant motion.
You could spend hours with one and you're never finished, you never see or touch or experience everything. Impossible.
Afterwards, you think about what you've missed, what you didn't quite get to. There'll always be something new to play with, pinch, brush against the next time.
And all those scents, tastes, whiffs of all sorts...
With younger bodies ... they're the same from top to bottom. Same shape, same skin, same rubbery feel. Nothing much there. Unfinished, incomplete. Like they were just hatched from pods - smooth and slippery, no essence yet. And only a few curves and barely any crannies. Bland and simple. Uninteresting.
Older bodies are complex, real.
Maybe when you're older you need more. Just another 'body' was enough back then. Now, it takes a labyrinthian body to keep you googly-eyed and rambunctious.
... Can you imagine if I'd missed all this? Sometimes it's great to still be alive.
George was becoming dizzy from thinking it all. So he forced himself to stop. Still, it was difficult to doze off.
HuffPost Featured Fiction is back in action after a hiatus. Check out the two new stories: Biscotti by Ira Greenfest and Bruised Silence by Pamela McMahon-Miller.
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