Letter to a Beautiful Friend

I couldn't help it.

When you told me, it has been my happiest moment in a very long time.

Since years, really.

Hence the drawing and this letter.

I'm happy for you, to a vaguely drunk-feel level, almost to the blabbering-idiot-first-time-father level.

I'm happy, and horny.

Happy because you are going to have a child, and so you are out of that
existential null-space I stuck myself into. A place clothed out of commodity, but void nonetheless.

Horny because I can't help but imagine your body rounding up, your skin lighting up, glowing for the effect of maternity's hormones, the change in your posture to accommodate for the growth of the belly, your enlarged tits, you standing with spreads legs and toes pointing out...

And I picture myself, when you will have given birth to her or him, the image of your loosened up vagina, in which you will be finally be able to put a whole hand effortlessly the way you never could, and your lactating breasts in background.

And all of this excites me to no end.

I really hope, desire, crave that you will share these things with me, and I will draw them so that those three thousand persons (alas, not all of them are men) that watch my drawings in a month or so may see them.

See you, and be excited by you a tenth of what I am right now.

Because right now, I desire you.

I desire to fuck you so much that it hurts.

With love and fear, yours.

  _DB