Along with my breasts getting a bit friendlier with my waistline, my thighs have become overly infatuated with each other. Actually, they're more like two horny teenagers who require a crowbar to separate them.
My thighs have been making out with each other for longer than I can remember. Like good friends turned lovers, they grew together over time, becoming closer during my pregnancies and enjoying some much deserved time apart in between, sometimes thanks to post-partum weight loss, and other times because of a fantastic invention called pants.
But now, in part because I'm pregnant (again) and because you'd have to pay me cold hard cash or my weight in swedish fish to get me to wear maternity shorts, my thighs are like old married couple who have traded in their gym membership for snuggling on the couch.
So when I was walking home from the pool, my thighs nearly glued together thanks to the lovely combo of pool water, sweat, and warm lumpy cellulite, I realized that I'm just going to have to surrender to the evil that are maternity shorts or figure out a way to channel my thigh friction for good.
So with all this "save the earth" shit, you know, "use alternative energies" or "power your car with soybean oil," I'm thinking the combined heat generated from all our thighs bumping uglies could seriously offset carbon emissions. Hell, just my thighs rubbing together on a short walk could probably be measured in kilowatts.
But then I read about women climaxing just from their thighs rubbing together (go ahead and google it if you don't believe me).
Fuck the earth. I need an orgasm. Bad.