The odour of sexual desire permeates the air around me,
Circling swirling air currents filled with the musky scent of sex.
It seems to ooze out my every pore, filters through my clothing
Envelopes me in a warm blanket of scent.
Men look at me differently- can they smell that I’m in heat?
A primal, biological sixth sense that draws them closer to my side,
Like panting wolves, eager to mount.
Do I look different somehow? Is there some glint in my eyes,
Or blush in my cheeks?
What makes it so obvious?
The way I bite my lip, my nipples hardened beneath my blouse?
A spring in my step, or the slink of my hips?
What psychic messages am I sending out,
when I fantasize about you?