WORKING OUT WITH AN ORGASM ON YOUR FACE

by Martín Ulloa August 2016 CHECK OUT IBIZA Read in PDF format N11/2016
WORKING OUT WITH AN ORGASM ON YOUR FACE Whenever I go to my gentle Pilates class, while walking along the corridors at the gym I pass dozens of women wearing the most sensual leggings that allow you to make out their sculpted and toned bodies.

They wear their hair up while their clothes – which alternate black with fluorescent colours – explode with provocation when they wear those boy shorts or sports bras, technical clothing that ignites fantasies and forces you to view them in another light. Long gone are Eva Nasarre [Spain’s Jane Fonda] and the other keep-fit ladies from the ‘80s, wrapped up in their leggings and leg warmers, who showed a generation that sport could be a tool to build assertiveness. Well, when I went to school, the girls wore, just like us, tracksuit bottoms and a cotton T-shirt, somewhat larger than usual, to hide those new breasts sprouting from adolescent bodies like ripened figs. Over time, we have become used to this change of appearance, normalising a new type of sportswear into attire that oozes eroticism from each one of its seams and combinations. As a friend of mine says, we are building a sporting society, addicted to gyms, exercise and technical clothing. A society of physical effort rewarded with acceptance and sculpted beauty. A society that dresses for sport to seduce. My grandmother says that we are nuts. I think she’s right. Week after week, I try to avoid falling into situations that see me getting an eyeful of those sports cleavages and shiny leggings that transform women into galactic creatures. Like when a girl at the gym drinks water and the water rolls down her neck onto her breast; you know what I mean, those types of fantasies, cool water mixing with sweat. But later, when I turn on my computer, I see those short internet clips, photos of my friends working out on Facebook and Instagram, making their goals public, as well as their flat stomachs and buttocks as firm as two watermelons, not to mention the advertising by the fashion brands..... and I come to the conclusion that visual culture has now caused us to get a hard-on by seeing a girl working out. Who wouldn’t get turned on by that face showing such effort worn by athletes? The clenched teeth of the jumpers? The efficient smiles of the girls on the synchronised swimming team with their powerful arms and permanently wet legs? There are those that say we pant during love making like in the races and our post-coital face of peacefulness is the same as that of athletes finishing a trial. Is the summer getting to me or are the Olympics an erotic delirium?

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