Watching her polish those apples, forearms bulging.

Is it obvious to the world?

To anyone else at this far-too-posh farmers market?

How everything, every-where in this room just looks like pure sex?

Fuck.

I can’t help it.

Fuck.

I haven’t in months.

There might be cobwebs if my organs weren’t still pumping full-fledged hormones in strange women’s direction.

Tingles down to the toes these days, merely by the most simple of interactions.

The next female to whisper an innocent anything in my ear is bound to make me blast-off.

Those little hairs on the back of the neck ready to raise like a white-flag.

I’m beyond ready to propel!

Just patiently waiting to explode.

Light me on up, baby.

Touch me. Tease me. Kiss me. Please me.

Greedily need me, it’ll make it so easy.

My strength in fleeing my demons has gone past fleeting.

Fuck.

I’m ready. No need to wait for the weekend.

Fuck.

We could be creeping tomorrow afternoon.

We could fuck.

There’s no need to sleep in.

But we haven’t even spoke yet, just a stranger to yet meet this evening.