Imagine a private, upscale room. Maybe it’s late afternoon, or early evening. An expensive, inviting couch sits on a wooden floor, in front of a tightly-knotted oriental carpet. You are gazing at this scene from another room, perhaps a portico, and you can almost make out the wood grain of the floor beneath the perfect satin finish.
As you watch, someone comes into the room, wearing headphones. No. They don’t just come into the room, the waft into the room, making a graceful entrance. The person entering is in their physical prime, your erotic ideal, completely naked. You admire their skin as they move toward the couch; it is almost moist, as if after some recent exercise. You can hardly not look as their body turns, taking a deep breath.
A teak table is located by the far side of the couch, and you can see a few warmly glowing tubes from equipment on the table. The person has turned their back to you, looking at the table, and you admire the shape from their shoulders to waist. Gracefully, they bend and attach a cord to the equipment on the table.
Turning back to the couch, they settle down, head near the table end. Stretching, they put one leg over the back of the couch, and you see a perfect toe on a perfect foot pointing to the ceiling. Eyes close, and a smile appears, as tunes you can only imagine enter their head. Their other toes seem to point to you.
What headphones are they wearing?