49AK 56M
1074 posts
4/13/2006 10:09 pm

Last Read:
4/17/2006 11:49 am


Please follow me on an obscure mental journey...

I live in Alaska. I am currently visiting America to see my family, and watch a few baseball games. I went to a baseball game this afternoon, and while very few would consider today's weather to be uncomfortably warm, it was a lot warmer and sunnier than I am used to, after six months of winter.

As I walked into the stadium, Washington's starting pitcher was walking to the mound. Without mentioning his name, it is important to know that he is Cuban, and defected to the United States to play baseball.

This gentleman is a big, hulking guy. He has a round belly, and a round face, and I am sure that if he was crossing the street in traffic, only one time in one hundred would he break into a trot to get across the street ahead of an oncoming car. It isn't so much that he is rude or inconsiderate, he just comes across as though he lives in mañana.

So I took my seat in the hazy sun. It was humid and sticky, and the heat was just a hair below that point where it is uncomfortable. The pitcher stood on the mound and warmed up. His motions were smooth and fluid. He was clearly exerting himself, but not one iota more than was absolutely necessary. I thought to myself, that back in his home country, he would throw his pitches, and then retire under a palm tree and sip some cool water, until he was called upon again to expend no more energy than absolutely necessary.

Ah, the palm tree. The warm breeze. I was immediately transported back to some of the most sexy and sensual places I had ever been -- the Florida Keys. While there are certainly obvious reasons to think of the Keys as sexy, what does it for me is the heat... Not the heat of the relentless sun, but rather, the steamy, sultry, tropical heat of the night.

I was recently in the Keys, and sat in a chaise lounge at 10 at night, and watched the clouds move over the moon as the balmy trade winds blew. When I think of that I think of a woman, with that slightest blush of perspiration on her cheek. Her hands are both cool and warm at the same time. Her cotton clothes have absorbed just enough of the humidity that they feel ever so slightly damp.

That sticky, sultry evening presence pervades every nook and cranny. You walk down the street behind a couple holding hands, and while you can't see the dampness, it is a tangible part of the scene. Better yet, she's holding your hand... and you feel it. And you know that same, wonderful, sexy feeling envelopes her entire body. Her cheeks are rosy with it. Her breasts glisten with that hint of moisture. Her tummy is dry but wet; cool but warm... and it only gets better from there.

If you think about it, sex is really all about moisture. Many of us focus on the moisture we add to it ourselves, but be honest... that sticky, tropical heat of the night beats the air conditioned suite hands down when it comes to sex, doesn't it?

Life is slow in the land of mañana. But the same man that only trots in front of a car one time in one hundred would almost certainly break into a dead run, if not doing so meant missing the feeling of her blushed cheek, kissed with perspiration.

When it comes to sex, there is no mañana.

rm_AsYouWish247 58F
3 posts
4/14/2006 1:57 am

You're right, i loved it... Sweet Torrid Dreams *sweet smile* AYW247

LustyTaurus 49M
21253 posts
4/14/2006 6:37 pm

Sounds like you got some hgot and bothered here...LOL

We also need your help...I hope you don't mind...

It's about [blog purrykitty2]





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