"In Praise of the Female Form"

How I long for the days of my misspent youth.  Although not quite
socially acceptable, it was understandable that a young man would
gaze and ponder with awe and admiration the gentle curves of the
female form.  Those days when I could stare unabashedly at that
which fascinated me most.

Now I am relegated to sitting quietly with my mirrored sunglasses,
pretending not to notice while my eyes dart furtively from side to
side, enjoying the view of females of every form as they wander
through the park.  Through my rose-colored glasses, the ugliness
of reality that is called life is quickly dispersed by the beauty
that surrounds me, and I find that I am transported back through
time to the fantasies of my youth, every thought centering on the
quest for a view of the un-obtainable, when the female form was
desired and cherished, simply because it was the female form.

Breasts held high and proud by a swatch or two of satin and
lace.  The gentle swaying of unfettered breasts,
unencumbered neither by the restraints of material nor by
societies mores.

Nipples, crushing against, straining at the very fabric that
shelters them from my gaze, waiting for and hoping for a cool
breeze to stiffen them.

A plunging neckline, or a V-necked blouse, a view into the valley
of ecstasy, where soft delectable breasts meet.  The slight rise
and fall with every breath.

Full firm buttocks.  I followed the hint of panty line over the
contour of rounded cheeks to the junction of thighs, the valley of
sighs.

But I am older now, maturity has taken hold.  I learned to avert
my gaze.  I learned to treat the female as an equal rather than
the revered.  I learned to control those thoughts of passion, the
pure, raw, simple emotion that the female form evoked in me.  The
trappings of maturity, the guilt and shame, have quelled the
arousal.

Now I sit in the park, with my mirrored glasses, behind which my
prying eyes are hidden, so that once again I may steal a glance or
a peek or a gander, and let my thoughts meander to the days of my
youth, and I sigh.