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The Intoxication of Aged Beauty

I was sweetness and light this morning. I was waiting over by the bus stop playing one of my favorite wake-up in the morning tunes: Beethoven’s No. 5 (duhduhduhduuuhhhh….), you know how the composition goes. The first movement in allegro shot images of the first picture in my mind. Jukujo, wrapped like a rose in black, sprawled over a tatami mat floor, dainty and petite. Beautiful neck lines, hair neatly arranged.
And then the second movement in Andante con moto was soothing. I could literally follow the warm notes in “A” flat major along the contours of her kimono. Only the sun could envy such radiant beauty.
The smooth subtle mochi like skin tautly wrapped around mammoth tree trunk thighs is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Third movement: Sherzo in C minor, which is played by the cello and the double bass, accentuate these unbreakable beautiful pillars, tracing the fine lines of her thighs with the very tip of my tongue – with bated breath waiting for the next thing I get to savor, ever so patiently.
And then, the Fourth movement: Full allegro
Heart pounding, exhilarating, enthralling.
Holy areolas!
God in flesh form. The real beauty of Japan, and most of all she’s NOT a prepubescent little girl, she is a fully grown, ripe and delicious Japanese woman. A mother, a Lover, and a salvation of the Japanese nation.


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