Sapiosexuality

January 9

I love the arts but she spoke of microeconomics in such a compelling way I couldn't help but be captivated. We'd met the day before at an esoteric house party whose guests accepted and understood me. I’d watched her seated on a lounge nodding in conversation with two fine gentlemen. I could see she was genuinely interested in their thoughts. She was present and attentive, bringing the best out of her companions which in turn brought out her delighted smile. Most people sleepwalk through life but she was alive. I had to know her.

Now I wore the delighted smile, seated opposite her in a modest cafe, listening to her talk on economics in such a tasteful manner I soon became erect. I leaned closer to her as she pointed out it wouldn't make economic sense for the cafe we were sitting in to correct a spelling error on their menu. The crème brûlée would forever be crème bûrlée, an error she had sexily brought to light earlier. I didn't want her to stop. My Bonds undies were soaked with pre-cum. I asked her about fiscal policy, monetary policy, eliciting more and more of her brilliance. When she explained wage spiral inflation to me I let out a moan and came quietly in my pants. She didn't even have to touch me. Such was the power of her mind.