Peter Dolving Reflects on Near She-Male Encounter

"The last couple of weeks I was obsessing madly over sex. I get into periods of it. Naturally, being me it's not the 'Gee, that girl has a fine rack' kind of obsessing. It's more, me walking past a utility store, I look through the window at the power tools and kitchen utensils and my brain goes: 'Potential Gear For Sexual Application.' I walk through the grocery store passing the vegetables: 'Hmmm, I could use that, that and that for SEX!' I sit on the bus going downtown looking at the girl a couple of seats over, my brain kinda rumbles: 'fffffuuuuuuuuggghhhh' and like an animal I sit staring at her, drool and foam forming at the corners of my mouth. While the conscious part me of is reeling. 'Whoa boy!' Cracking the whip, and holding the leash in an iron grip. 'Down you devil, down!!'

"Yeah it's taken on that extra dimension.

"It used to be, 'Yeah, I'm young, I got sex on my mind. If you don't, you're the one who's fucked up!' Not anymore. My mind will curl up into a ball of self-containment, shutting off, keeping its focus on dick, pussy, and ass unrelentlessly for days. It's been like this since I was a kid. Analysis, anyone? I get this much — my mind is running away. Sex kickstarts endorphines and other dopamines, so what's the deal? Is my brain protecting me from myself? Am I so full of fear that my mind will implode into a animate black hole of lubed up expanded assholes, pussy and pulsating cocks until infinity to keep me from... from what? Is this something I can get rid of? Do I want to rid myself of it?

"Or is it just like this for everyone? I don't know.

Read the full article at Peter Dolving's myspace.