I do believe that the suggestion of something is more sexual than the thing itself. The small sliver of flesh shown at the nape of the neck under tresses of hair being swept away. The little glint in someone’s eye as they look away. The gentle sighing moan at a brushing fingertip. These are more sexual and delicious and get my blood racing more than seeing what is between someone’s legs. The suggestion. The thought. The promise or perhaps not. The illusion…