What is different about women in my pain-wracked dotage?
When I was a young man, one would endeavor to get a woman drunk so that she would have sex with you.
Now, one gets a woman drunk so that she will pass out and the need for sex will pass from her pretty lips with an adorable whimper.
What remains the same?
A woman’s scent has always been an intoxicant for me, far beyond any physical drive to join with her, a thing of its own, a sweet sub-smell, which ironically waxes more delicious when she is afraid.
I enjoy the sweet taste of a woman’s fear just as I am rendered aggressive by the reek of a man’s fear. A man in abject fear, especially, stinks with a pungent bitterness that makes the hackles on my nape prickle.
Yes, the scent of a woman remains a fine pleasure.
(c) 2017 James LaFond
The Khan had forgotten that he'd written this and now recalls being very drunk, into his third double rum & coke, when writing this. And now, reading this sober, the Khan approves of this message.
ReplyDeleteThat the Khan was drunk goes without saying, no?
DeleteIndeed child, you exceed the expectations of your gender. The Khan may only be summoned from among the moldering bones of his barrow mound of old when his weird writer partakes of the blood of the Reclining God...
ReplyDelete