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“I thought about the opposite sex endlessly, and as I grew up, it became an almost all-consuming desire: resting my head against the soft fullness of a breast (pendulous or pert, it didn't matter), was an exquisite lullaby; being enfolded by a woman, entering a woman, was a thrilling voyage of discovery, as well as a homecoming to the warmest, safest place I'd ever been. In some ill-defined way, it was like possessing and transcending the world all at once, and it was enough to make you cry for the sheer joy of being human.” — David Leser
I thought about the opposite sex endlessly, and as I grew up, it became an almost all-consuming desire: resting my head against the soft fullness of a breast (pendulous or pert, it didn't matter), was an exquisite lullaby; being enfolded by a woman, entering a woman, was a thrilling voyage of discovery, as well as a homecoming to the warmest, safest place I'd ever been. In some ill-defined way, it was like possessing and transcending the world all at once, and it was enough to make you cry for the sheer joy of being human.