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I've always had unconventional sexual tastes, and my erotic appreciation for a woman's capacitance is no exception. I don't know when I started relishing this quality, but I'm now completely smitten. The best part is that most high capacitance vixens are conventional beauties as well, with pendulous, charge-storing breasts, strongly dielectric non-greasy skin, and a sopping vagina and mouth for contacts.
I can barely contain myself when making out with my dates. I try to feel out her capacitance with my searching hands. Is she 100 picofarads? 1000? A microfarad? More? The mystery is part of the allure. As we head to the bedroom I surreptitiously break out the auto-ranging capacitance meter and poke her in the bum. She giggles - to her it's a game - but my member is about to explode when I see the number on the chart. I tackle her onto the bed and start pile driving her pussy as dreams of conductivity and dielectrics detonate in my brain.
I dated a most extraordinary woman once. 1.37 farads. Farads! When I finally got her into the bedroom we did it five times, after which I hooked her up to my amp and we relaxed to the Steve Miller Band with her luscious body providing transient current spurts for the the bass boost. Fortified, we re-embraced, and as she discharged onto my steel spindle I nearly died in ecstasy, her face contorted, her nipples little nubs of lightning.
Date Written: December 11, 2004
Average Vote: 4.4