Few among you will appreciate my subsequent pontification. For one, you may not be attuned to esoteric dissertation along these lines. Then again, you may not give a shit. If you lose interest after half of the next paragraph, it means that you and I are not on the same wavelength. Still, I would like to know whether there are any of you out there who give a damn.
I used to like girls. Their lithe strutting on the athletic field twisted my psyche to lay myself at their feet in a manner of speaking. Acne notwithstanding I was willing to lay my soul in willing servitude if only they would acknowledge my presence in waiting along with all of my fellows in pain. We ached for their attention and vied for first in line if they ever allowed one of us to serve. Alas, we were inexperienced and naïve. Nothing happened that I would call memorable. Yes, we did exchange saliva from time to time, but no ownership on either side was assumed. Merely chance encounters took place regardless of all the plotting, planning, and arranging. These were prior to smart phones, television, and texting, Etc.
I matured in some ways, and became discerning in the selection. I began to distinguish between sexual attraction and deeper yet less primal feelings. Words became my tool in my fantasy where I imagined myself dealing with scenarios of wanted females who would appreciate me in some ways. Somehow they aged from the pimply silliness toward the curvy sanity that they demonstrated over my unbridled doglike slobbery attitude. Yes, I needed to show maturity to attempt to measure up to their superior attitude.
By the time I worked out the strategy, I was already behind. They wanted marriage with children in the plans, and a man reliable enough to pay the bills until … when? They simply played with me until finding out that I was not the one, and then they went on to other unsuspecting males to try again. Meanwhile I took time off from reality and did my manly adventures with guns and such. All it did for me was to want the sweet softness of females more than ever. It was as if I had fettered myself in order to make it easier for them to get me. Really, I wanted it. It happened, and I do not regret it.
Now, years later, I am still coping with the changing fauna of my environs. I still like girls, but it is now in a very different respect. Girls now are people whom I protect and treasure for their beauty, loveliness, and value. I am willing to die for them to protect them from harm and to give them a good life. The sexual component of my attention of youth has transferred to the total support for their success in becoming satisfied women in their own lives. As they and I age I appreciate their charms more then ever. My vista of female appreciation expands in depth and width. I no longer have strict rules about my former requirement. I enter any visage of female endeavor with an open mind. She may charm me with any attitude, aptitude, or attribute as she chooses. Maturity, intelligence, and calm demeanor will get my attention. Physical charms are on the same level, yet they are the first alert. I am now in more the protective mode then ever. I am alert to a woman needing help, or be protected from predators. I have become vulnerable to false needs. I am to be had for a penny. Females of any age can own me at a glimpse. I need a female to protect me from females.