The Dissapearance of my Cleavage

It is not advisable to be old and still sexual. People will look at you as if you have stepped in something. It seems that society finds older people sexually distasteful. When an image of someone naked and lined flashes up on the television screen it is invariably to get a laugh. We are not supposed to find them attractive. We become repulsive to ourselves in our decay.

You may have noticed that my cleavage has suddenly disappeared under layers of clothing, appropriately chaste high necklines. I have bowed to pressure. I have become sexless in my middle-age. I have enjoyed my cleavage for far too long.

When all the rest of my body has given me grief my tits have remained my true friends, the one part of my body that I can still enjoy in broad daylight and unclothed. Even though I have hidden them because of public pressure, I still look at them from time to time and think that this part of me alone is something to be proud of. But you will never enjoy them again. I have hidden them from you and they will never make a return.

I resent this public censorship, of course, I was born to resent any kind of censorship. I wish I could flaunt the one piece of flesh that I am proud of, holding it up like a red flag to a bull, watching you huff and stamp and roll your eyes - how dare she become old and still wear her tits out like that. It is because of your silent disapproval that I have become self-conscious, and even I cannot wear my skin proudly when I am self-conscious.

I do want you to know however, that even if I am covered from neck to knee, even if my head were to be shrouded, my hands secreted in gloves, my feet strapped into heavy boots, even then, beneath my public modesty I would still have a furious vagina.