I went out today,

somewhat reluctantly. Walking past a newly built apartment complex, which looks very modern, surrounded by, what feels like, something built a hundred years ago, I spotted a woman in her mid thirties. Very plain looking, a 5, maybe a 6, just getting off her bike. She's wearing a dark skirt and a white blouse, nothing spectacular. She's not thin but not chubby either, she looks very normal, ordinary, a forgettable face. I imagine what she is going to do when she gets home. It's pretty late so her husband is already home. He's made something simple for dinner but she is happy anyway. She loves men that can cook. They will have a glass of wine with the dinner, the summer weather affecting their hormones. The heat bringing the sweet taste of love, only enough to last a few seconds on her tongue, and make her want more. After dinner they part. She hits the couch and reads a new feminist novel by  Camille, desperate to come of as strong and independent. She knows she's just deceiving herself. After a while she puts down the book, her train of thought broken, her lust awoken. She goes to the living room and looks at her husband. Brown hair, he still has a lot of it left but it's thinning. He's a little older than her, she can't even remember by how much. They met at the university. She could not tell what made her end up with him, neither could anyone else, at first glance. His height is average and he's moderately handsome. Green eyes. She loves his eyes. She walks up behind him, sitting in the couch, watching TV, and starts rubbing his shoulders. He stays dormant but when she gives him a kiss and pulls his arm the animal rises. They kiss and undress on their way to the bedroom. They leave the drapes open, that's the way she likes it. The thought of someone watching, she says, has always been a turn on. They consummate their love. Fueled by the body's own happy chems, the act is quite vigorous. She can see a fragment of long lost desire, from 15 years ago. Is it really lost, or just at the bottom of the well, she thinks afterwards.

Fuck this, I'm not bored anymore.

you is stealing copy and pasta?