Questions

            There's this question, a couple questions really, that are always slipping into my brain; it started as random, occasional musings and now the question is my philosopher's stone. I have found the ultimate question. You probably don't think it's the ultimate question, you probably think this is a stupid question. But when any question is always in your mind, it's the ultimate question.

            I'll be sitting in a bar, just chatting with a friend about the next World Cup, and I'll look at the bartender, and like opening a beer with a lighter: POP! My friend will be saying something about who looks promising and I'll be posing questions to myself. Her hair could be a short dark brown, covering her ears, with bangs that fall just a little in her eyes. She could be tall with a frame like an Arab princess, biggest around the hips. She'll wear a button up shirt that hangs open a little at her breasts, and my eye will try to sneak through the fabric's folds and find something in there.

            Or I am walking home from work, smoking a cigarette, and I see a girl walking with some tall guy, and she's wearing a short and tight skirt with boots that look like leather, with a little heel to them, in this cold weather, it's crazy. I'll look at her legs, they are tight, the skin looks soft and the questions just flow in. I wonder.

            It could be the skinny blonde with the straight bangs at the party. She has a lip piercing. And I'll be sitting on the couch with a big expensive beer and she'll be taking hits from a joint being passed around, and I'll look at her eyes. They are big and pretty and green but her eyelids naturally sit low, it's not the weed, and they make her look like sex magic. I wonder about her with intent.

            The question is a little different when there is intent. It's almost less interesting. I so often find myself thinking of the question about a random girl I saw on the street, rather than acquaintances or romantic interests. This question is scientific, it's a mixture of business and pleasure, it's this quest for enlightenment and this tedious, torturous, study of humanity. I can't really see how this could ever be useful to me or anyone else, and still I do it. It's not a compulsion, it's something different, it's a reaction, a reflex, like kicking out your foot. I can't stop it or start it, it just happens, like the sun rising and setting...I don't have control over that.

            The question is pretty indiscriminate, age, race, height, weight, socio-economic status, it doesn't care. It could be asked about your girlfriend or sister or mother or daughter, the question doesn't care, even though sometimes I do. Sometimes the question even gets asked about boys, usually about boyfriends of girlfriends. It's usually about what kind of stupid face the boy you're with, or your boyfriend, makes. Seems like boys always make a stupid face. I try not to make any faces. Think about all the stupid faces you probably make and don't even realize it.

            What's really interesting about the question is that I rarely get a definitive answer. Almost never in comparison to how often it's asked, maybe one in a hundred thousand times that I ask the question do I actually receive a firsthand answer. The rest of the time, I make up the answers or am just perplexed and clueless. There is a lot of second guessing that goes on with answering the question without any evidence, it's all hypothesis and theories and fiction. It doesn't usually take long, usually it's quick, a few seconds, to formulate a rudimentary idea of an answer. It takes the longest time when there is intent involved or when it's a few seconds of seeing a person. Those take longest because one has so much mystery, is so fleeting, and the other because more and more information comes to light.

 

            So you probably want to know what the question is, or maybe you already have an idea what it is. I feel like it's pretty obvious, maybe that's just because of who I am. Maybe you aren't like me, maybe you don't get this question, this so often scientific question popping into your head a hundred or more times a day. Maybe you're not the kind of person who imagines all these minute details about people you won't ever see again, people you haven't even met. I feel like I am the same as everyone else though, maybe different because I admit that I'm the same as everyone else, it's some kind of self-referencing paradox. Anyway, that's not the issue here, the issue is the question. You're going to be disappointed when you hear it, you've probably got lofty ideas in your head right now, of this or that, it's really the other thing. What is this girl like in bed?

            I know.

            I know.

            Who is this pervert? Just walking around all day, not even mentally undressing, actually picturing people having sex...wondering exactly what they're like. Are they wild? Are they shy? Do they like sex? Not so much? Do they love sex? Do they love the act, the idea, the touching, the skin, the sweat, the wetness, the heat, the orgasms? All that?

            What are they like!? It's so obnoxious, that a major part of a person's personality, or the expression of it, is behind closed doors.

            How are they on top? Do they know how to use their hips? Do they like kinky things? Do they cum? Does it take a lot of work?

            See how many little questions are in this question? It's compounding.

            Do they shave their body hair? Are they confident with their body? Are they a timid, do they let go of reservation when they're in moments of ecstacy? Are they more passionate when they are drunk?

            There are just so many questions, so so many. It's not that I want to sleep with all these girls, some sure, I would, others not at all...I just wonder about them.

            I guess, I'm really just wondering if they're like her.