Abigail’s Pet Project

A Catalog of Sin

August 20th, 2006

Abigail is currently torturing me with images from the online VS catalog that she likes in the hardcopy she’s looking at. Of course she has no idea she’s torturing me, she’s just bringing me up to date on one of her interests, lingerie. I appreciate that. But my cock is enraged, demanding attention. It twitches in time with my pulse. And mentioning that VS seems to have done a good job of getting average women to trust them with their sexy but not too ‘out there’ designs of the late nineties, very early part of this century but over the last three years have been pushing the tone of the collection ever more into arena of classy slutwear, slowly moulding women’s own perception of what is normal, acceptable. Abigail is unaware of how this almost makes my mind melt when she murmurs things like this. And when I’m this aroused things can get crazy if she wantst to take it that way. I think, like most men my entire moral universe dissolves with arousal, or maybe I’m hoping that that’s what it’s like with most men, because if it’s not then my awareness of myself as a bit of sexual freak in terms of my craven obsession with arousal is still short of the mark.

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