Concupiscence

In case it’s not been made clear by the whacky weather we’ve been having, it’s Spring here in the Northern hemisphere. That alone should hint at how I’ve been feeling about the willy-wielding folks walking around.

This one is for and about all the fellas whose paths I’ve crossed and who’ve caught my eye for any combination of the short-listed reasons pictured below. Thank you for all the lecherous, lascivious and debauched thoughts. They keep me going.

Legend unashamedly copy/pasted from the original instagram post.

FIG. 1: arms in a white shirt for carrying basic survival items like wine and croissants (I’m French. Stereotypes exist for a reason.)
FIG. 2: that fleeting glimpse of tummy when said white shirt rides up a little bit.
FIG. 3: fold-y face and a beard. There’s nothing I love more than wrinkly-eyed laughter and smiles.
FIG. 4: inner thigh. The softest.
FIG. 5: strong hands. For giant pickle holding, obviously.
FIG. 6: bouncy bum. If you can bounce quarters off it, even better.

If I could twist my spongy love mountains in such a way that they come up to my face, would you gents be more likely to look me in the eyes? It’s a win-win for everybody: I get the illusion you care about what I’m saying, and you’ll go home with mammaries you won’t soon forget.

And because I had some time to kill in between jobs…Here they are poorly animated. I am very easily amused.

Heart eyes forever.

If you get them close to your ears, you can hear the ocean. Alternately, also a good method to pick sweet, juicy melons.