the monkey manifesto: adventure

That itch between your shoulder blades, you know which one i’m talking about, the one that you can’t reach no matter how hard you try. No matter how long you will your fingers; despite what you rub up against (like the corner of a door or a wall or the banister in a stairwell).

What would happen if you could reach it? Would it feel as good as when someone else scratches it for you or would it feel better?

Because when someone scratches that small camouflaged point it’s almost ambrosiac. The sudden relaxation and bliss that comes when somebody finds the spot and scratches, but doesn’t over scratch.

It’s orgasmic but not.

But what if it were? What if the sheer sensation of fingernails against tickly flesh made your whole body quake and tremble in pure sensational orgasm? What if our bodies made us itchy on purpose just for the orgasmic fix.

Or if we could reach it ourselves... Would it become a masturbatory ritual?

I hope I get itchy today, because I haven’t cum in a week.

Would we be debased in that fashion by this temple, our bodies. And then what if we no longer felt it. It didn’t make us mellow anymore. It was just another nuisance like a cramp or a headache or when your skin is stuck to itself (like testicles and breasts do when you sweat).

What if an itch were a larger nuisance than it already is? It was no longer the frustration that you were itchy and couldn’t reach it, but that you were sexually pent up and couldn’t relieve it.