a treatise on yonis and lingams

I'm a weak-kneed orgasm waiting to happen. I do not know what is wrong with me lately - I haven't changed my diet, my lifestyle, the people or places I hang around - but I can't get enough of sex. Which is a problem because I'm in a long-term relationship with someone whose bed is located about 1,500km away from mine. So, with no person to relieve me of my piqued hormones, I resolved to get myself off in any other form possible: my obvious beloved five-fingered friend, my imagination, erotic literature, writing and talking about it.

Except, these things have done nothing but raise my general level of arousal. It has got to the point where I'm thinking my desperate single colleague is not that far off from Joaquim Phoenix, after all... mmmm, colleague sex! No! Snap out of it, Lauren! The table leg - that 60-cm long, hard woody - is just too far from my seat for me to attack without raising said colleague's (and others') suspicions. Help! And my nipples are aching with the mere thought of being licked by some hungry tongue...

Fuck (mmm, that would be really nice..) no! Stop it!

Thinking thoughts of my naked parents shagging.... of Michael Jackson with little boys.... of dead corpses bloated with feeding maggots.... ah! much better. Hormones down, for now....