This girl

This girl, her voice is hot. Usually, what I call a hot voice for a girl, is when it's not clear. I like girls who talk in a naturally low, hoarse voice. Not too hoarse. Not man hoarse. But like the day after they spent the whole night screaming at a concert. Low as in "not loud."

But this girl, she has a hot voice that is crystal clear and young and innocent. Though it's not in a language I understand well, I recognized immediately what she was reading. A passage from a book by Palahniuk. The passage is about how the pleasure we experience when we have sex, it's nothing more than a release of endorphin. Hermaphroditism comes to mind.

This girl, reading this passage, it's like she's singing. Her voice joyously going up and down, following the curves of words and sentence I can't understand. She pronounces each word neatly, and it's almost as if you can feel her tongue and lips caressing them. She speaks effortlessly and you just wish she would never stop reading.

This girl, she gets me hard just when I see she's online and we start chatting. Whatever we're talking about, my pants is like a miniature of Pinder's big top.

It seems impossible to match this innocent, childish voice with the thing she writes sometimes in her messages. It's not the kind of thing I even want to think about on a lonely night. That's the kind of chain of thoughts that leads you directly shivering under a cold shower.

I never experience anything like that we anybody before. I mean, online. This wave of lust crushing on me just when she says hi. It's like being in your room with a friendly ex- on a hot summer day, with nothing to do and you know what's going to happen and you enjoy every minute before it really starts. When you know she knows it too but you keep playing the social game just a little more. Postponing. Until the moment you drop the social game and nothing matters anymore but the pleasure. What you give. What you take.

And the endorphin you produce. Everybody's little monkey.