Christmas time sometimes means Lexi works for the ballet. Which means she lusts after young ballerinas in lascivious but clandestine ways. This is made more difficult by my inability to express my lust in any physical way even to myself. I am an old crank, officially, and you should keep the youth away from me. Damn it, those sculpted butts, those pert breasts pushed up by corsets, and the tutus, God help me the tutus.
The worst kind of tutu for me is the kind that has ruffles in the crotch. For some reason that really gets me going. I envy the male dancers (but also lust after them because I would happily engage in some Kama-Sutra-esque action given that flexibility and strength.
4 comments:
This makes me smile even though the pains of getting turned on make you miserable. But, I know just how you feel.
I was a "Team dad" for my daughter's running teams which meant months in summer sun with beautiful young butts in lycra running shorts and sports bra's cavorting about. To make it worse, last year's senior captain was a total flirt and so very very young that it was torture talking to her. Thank goodness she moves to the other coast on scholarship. ;-)
I wouldn't call yourself an old crank until you get your ear's waxed out of need and not just 'cause you have a crush on the waxer.
If you can't enjoy the boys and girls of the ballet, whip out your polaroid and let me see them. That might work.
:-)
Polaroids would definitely get me arrested. :)
For ballarinas, it would be worth it.
There's something about dance and release that drifts the mind south to between the legs.
The costumes help of course.
Enjoy your swim at swans lake.
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