While he sat in the coffee shop, he gazed out the window at the
beautiful scenery of spring, namely the women.
He loved the spring when it arrived; it was such a long time between
the last glimpse of thigh in the autumn and the first sign of cleavage in the
spring, and it had been a very long winter.
Springtime was when all the girls cast off their winter vests and
exposed their pallid flesh.
It was the time of year when hastily shed warm clothing led to a
disproportionate number of girls with nipples erected by the cool air.
So, a combination of underdressed girls and the seasonal rising sap
meant he was almost permanently on the brink of arousal.
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