earthshyne
Senior Don Juan
It came to pass that Man had been supportive of Wife in all he said, did and was, and Wife developed a strong sense of un-fillable entitlement. Alas, Wife left Man because she felt He could not fulfill Her needs, though She made no attempt to satisfy His needs. Man was sad at first, then strangely joyous.
Wife insisted, though representatives, a large Sum of Shekels, to which Man immediately agreed and wrote Bank Draft parchment in her name, which she accepted. She departed to parts unknown, never to be heard from again.
Man was impoverished, but very happy.
Man took time to rededicate himself to the Lost Art of Male-Ness. This required a time of Work and Introspection, a fire through which Man re-tempered himself to what He saw fit, and not what Others saw fit.
And lo, it came to pass that Man saw Wimmen around him. And Man said to himself, “My, gaze at the Wimmen! Look at their shapely form! Smell their glorious scent! Feel their curvaceous bodies!” And then Wimmen began to speak, and Man said, “No, ruin not my image! Keep thine mouth shut, thine lips zipped, thine teeth clenched! For whence you open mouth, nonsense spills out, lo, and Man cannot bear to listen to drivel any longer.”
Now, Man began to develop an ache that he had long since suppressed. Alas, he had no desire to involve himself with Wimmen any more, but he did miss their gentle erotic company, the soft lips, the supple breasts, the parting of limbs. He began to search for a female partner of Casual Moral Attitude, henceforth beknown as a F*ckbuddy.
And eventually it came to pass, through directness and good humour, that Man won a stable of F*ckbuddies. Some were tall. Some were not so tall. All were attractive. Some had long hair, others short. Some were separated wives of other men, others were unattached. Some had children, others were free of small noisy monsters that smelled bad and created messes.
All, without exception, loved F*cking.
And Man said to himself, “Lo, what shall come to pass as the years progress and I yearn for something more?” Man answered himself, “Ye shall enjoy the time you have as it is now, and worry not for the future, for the future will have worries of its own.”
And Man, and his F*ckbuddies, were very happy.
Wife insisted, though representatives, a large Sum of Shekels, to which Man immediately agreed and wrote Bank Draft parchment in her name, which she accepted. She departed to parts unknown, never to be heard from again.
Man was impoverished, but very happy.
Man took time to rededicate himself to the Lost Art of Male-Ness. This required a time of Work and Introspection, a fire through which Man re-tempered himself to what He saw fit, and not what Others saw fit.
And lo, it came to pass that Man saw Wimmen around him. And Man said to himself, “My, gaze at the Wimmen! Look at their shapely form! Smell their glorious scent! Feel their curvaceous bodies!” And then Wimmen began to speak, and Man said, “No, ruin not my image! Keep thine mouth shut, thine lips zipped, thine teeth clenched! For whence you open mouth, nonsense spills out, lo, and Man cannot bear to listen to drivel any longer.”
Now, Man began to develop an ache that he had long since suppressed. Alas, he had no desire to involve himself with Wimmen any more, but he did miss their gentle erotic company, the soft lips, the supple breasts, the parting of limbs. He began to search for a female partner of Casual Moral Attitude, henceforth beknown as a F*ckbuddy.
And eventually it came to pass, through directness and good humour, that Man won a stable of F*ckbuddies. Some were tall. Some were not so tall. All were attractive. Some had long hair, others short. Some were separated wives of other men, others were unattached. Some had children, others were free of small noisy monsters that smelled bad and created messes.
All, without exception, loved F*cking.
And Man said to himself, “Lo, what shall come to pass as the years progress and I yearn for something more?” Man answered himself, “Ye shall enjoy the time you have as it is now, and worry not for the future, for the future will have worries of its own.”
And Man, and his F*ckbuddies, were very happy.
