Friday, May 9, 2008

Walking through import stores

Waiting for the washer repairman to fix the old machine, I suddenly have the impulse to go to an import store. World Baazar, Cost Plus, or something like them.

Why? What draws me?

It’s the feeling that I get. The sense of exotic colors and textures. The suggestion of spice. The faint taste of something that is at once new yet thousands of years old. I walk up and down those aisles absorbing the hints of veiled seduction.

It’s the innuendos whispered in your ear by an attractive man. His scent fills your nostrils and your body tingles in apprehension while his heat radiates on your neck. His hand rests firm and warm on the skin at the small of your back and slowly slides a caress around your bare midriff and slips softly down the front of your jeans. You know you should say no and slap it away but the desire blocks your tongue and paralyzes your hands. Your brain disconnects, you arch towards his hands and all you want is more! More!

It’s a small taste of liquor that is sticky sweet and warms your tongue before it flows golden down your throat and sparkles behind your closed eyes. It is wanting more but knowing that you cannot have it.

It is the lure of forbidden pleasures and the promise of paradise. It is release for the frustrations in your soul.

I think the hormones are kicking in.