(Post courtesy of my
AttentionWhore guest blogger Arthur)
Well, let me tell you that the 550 kilometers distance between my woman (#1) and myself (#2), when she is ovulating, roars and moans included, are only stopped by the Alps (we live in Norway) and it is disturbing. When she is ovulating, she is #1. I have to remember this and note it on my calendar. But the fact that nature controls this, for both of us, may override everything, so that I don’t have to remember. It’s just a fact. All males of all species will loose their common sense; drop everything, when an egg starts travelling. Amazing a microscopic wonder can cause that magnificent roar.
Women are wonderful creatures, and especially this one. She calls me her AttentionWhore, because I like positive attention just as much as the next guy. Still, and this is a secret, she is the one getting most of it.
With such distance, it is necessary to keep an ear to the ground and a nose on the Mac, in order to decode the shades of her moods. When ovulating, there are no shades, it is black, as it is in her Pass-Me-a-Shotgun or Provide Me-with-Sweets -moods. Between these ovulating days and the Plainly-Men-Suck days, the days in between are mostly all white. It is almost impossible to imagine that small stuff inside her body is the reason for all her mood swings and I wonder if there is such a thing as balance. Maybe these swings are, in a way, balanced within the limits of what her body allows, within the limits of what her body is supposed to do at the time.
Those are powerful drugs…
I can smell her. Even from 550 kilometers apart, I imagine her scent so real and close making me be ready. Men from the north side of the Alps will be willing to order an expensive flight ticket if they know they will be there in time, and I promise you, if I knew the flight from Zürich was full and on it’s way to Bergen, I would grab my bicycle from the basement, the one with a flat tire, and cross the mountain way before the plane enters Norwegian air space, with a missile launcher and an MK47 on my back. Even when the Black Widow is queen on her bloated midsection, when the smart thing is actually to keep those 550 kilometers, or maybe even return to the Alps, it is hard to stay away.
Hell has no fury like when a woman in this state is unfucked, unused or unabused. When her ovaries are active and the planets are aligned, (because I believe she is aligning the planets herself), it is without a doubt best to be present, as I am sometimes.
The stamina needed for this task, is similar to a Sherpa running from base camp to the top of Everest on a daily basis, and I do, not because I’m fit, but because she provides me with her amphetamine, her pheromones – and I won’t stop until she’s exhausted by cock, fingers, tongue, ropes, fists, vibrators, dildos, cuffs, and blindfolds. Her abdomen will, when the planets are aligned, break my fingers and crush a steel thermos. She will chip my front teeth with a beam of 80-bars squirting out of her.
I won’t stop until she dries out and we have to call 911 to have the fire department in for emergency removal of the flood -The New York fire department, she insists is a must, and I am happy she doesn’t insist on those guys until after the gaping doors of hell are closed and I am finished with her, because I am pretty sure she could take the whole bunch.
It goes without saying that if the beast is not unleashed, she will be irritated.
She is able to pheromone me over the phone. She will have me ready without saying a word, and 550 kilometers does something with my mood too if I am not able to be there, and the need for anger management -or a couple tablets of Sobril, becomes a must on both sides of the mountain.
All this is biology, is advanced chemistry, is a call from the wild, is nature calling.
Add the concept of deep love to this equation and the whole thing – our thing, makes sense, even when she’s on her Potential-Murder-Suspect stage.