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Why, might you ask, would subterranean pleasures fill my head rather than trips to the beach and mountains? Well, I am happy you asked, for nothing delights more, in the mind of a voyeur, than recounting his or her delectable collection of visual memories—well organized and ready for devouring, as the idle days of the summer season starts.

Allow me to set the scene before we move to appetizer and entrée. I walk into the sultry city from my well air-conditioned apartment on the Upper East Side. The Upper East houses many types of epicureans who all leave for their summer haunts, but, oh, not me. How could I leave when a feast for the eyes lies just below my feet, in that hallowed temple that zips people up and down and all over. Of course, for me, I am more interested in unzipping!

The city’s heat rises as I step onto the sidewalk and begin my stroll. I imagine that all of those hot bodies below the sun could not possibly generate so much energy. It must come from underneath—the living, breathing, sensuous dwellers below. Yes! I speak of each one of us. We walk above ground dressed for the hot weather, or, should I say, barely clad with see-through garments that we might as well not even wear. Unbuttoned to mid-chest, or lower, welcoming the occasional breeze that cools us off while also slightly opens a shirt here, a blouse there, for the entire world to peak behind. Such are the seasonal pleasures of summer.

But, it gets even better and hotter when you descend those stairs for the best ride in town. We all rejoice as we step onto the subway—for me, the 4, 5, or 6, but any will do—for it is not the ride but the flesh that entices. The journey starts on the subway platform. As you wait, all forms of beauty appear before your eyes. For me, the female form entices—women in sandals, flip-flops, high-heels, open shoes—every type of footwear and clothing (or lack thereof) you could desire. Then, there is the skin—hot, tanned, glistening from perspiration in the day or night. We, New Yorkers, love our summers, making the most of every moment, and the subway provides a perfect place for us to cool off.

Before the subway arrives you quickly get a sense of the possibilities. The platform provides a first brush while a quick scan of the cars allows optimal positioning for the best views. Now, some neophytes, uninitiated, or plain Republicans (although deep down they love it!), may think such strategizing perverse. Please remember, my dear reader, that you have read my essay to this point with no harm coming to any in your vicinity. I do not advocate illegal, or even unjust, activity—only a healthy exchange of views, as in flirtation that never goes beyond surface, word, or deed.

So, once positioned, you enter the subway car, casually walking to the spot that provides the best vision. For example, if you see a seat opposite a set of legs you appreciate, sit down and indulge that appetite. However, do not leer, stare, or assume a state of hypnosis over those long, lovely, perfectly tanned legs with toes peeking from underneath those delectable red heels. No, stop yourself, take a brief look, position your paper in such a way as to see, without being seen. Sounds simple, but dignity should always prevail over perversity—at least in my world. The key is to taste without bringing the object to your lips and/or tongue. Inhale the slight scent, imagine the feeling of those beautiful [insert here] against your body, wrapped around your [insert here]. Well, I am sure, by now, you get the idea. The world is a wondrous place. We all enjoy a good ride!

But, alas, the summer season will come to a close. The weather will shift towards the cooler side, and more concealing fashion will prevail. I will miss the time spent, albeit in brief spurts, where I could uncover this amazing City. The blankets will return for the autumn and winter months, but I will hold, deep inside, the burning memory of all those beautiful forms—those brief encounters with glistening deities from above who find themselves below for a fast ride and some fresh air.

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