Monday, September 11, 2006

No Rumors

In the past weeks I've been busy with classes but my mind has run rampant with the reasons of why I had always been on the prowl for older men.

I don't try to be naughty, it just seems to happen.

I touched upon the fact that in my tight knit suburban upbringing, gossip and rumors run like wild fire and a girl could lose her innocence to the public eye if one slip up was made. I was in no way going to compromise my social status to where I would be included in the dreaded group of the S-L-U-T-S.

I had powerfully needy erotic thoughts and proclivities that needed to be fulfilled and if sex wasn't really the focus until after I was 16, the power of an encounter with a man, not to mention an older man was remarkably empowering. It wasn't just power, it was an ego-boost that I could attract a confident, determined and already made man. Me, the singing bookworm actress who got straight A's and was seen as a beautiful, though shy, honor roll daughter.

I had sexual power and I didn't ever really need to try to activate it.

That was it, I came into my sexual own in my way, my secret way and that's the way I wanted it to be kept. Secret.

Older men with children, jobs, even wives couldn't spend time dropping their indiscretion to their fellow men, it would not only possibly endanger them, but embarrass them.

If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours.

So at times I kept my late afternoons free for exploring someone's sexual side, or maybe a night where my house was mysteriously empty to talk all night on the phone with men who in my daily life were figureheads. In the night and with desire, people change, their needs change.

Its not to say that my innocence was taken by terribly too many, but sharing your body does not always include that final invasion. I let them take little and gave nothing. I think it was always the height of emotion and the toxic chemical of wrong doing that fueled my activities with some of the men I've encountered.

Sex is a lot, but its not everything. The act of giving and taking was what represented the most for me. The roping and words were what mattered the most to me, and not the many colored options that abounded for the pleasures of the flesh. Not always.

In that misty room, I knelt on the bed, my soft kitten lowered over his soft lips, over his hungry mouth. My hands ran down my body, feeling the light vapor that clung to my heated skin, trailing down my hips to his soft hair, stroking his head as he pleasured me. My whimpers escaped but my mind wasn't in the act, it was in my disbelief that this is what I had wanted, what I had allowed and yet I couldn't connect. I couldn't care. He was lost to me and though as my body shook with a powerful orgasm, I didn't want it. He had already given up his virtuosity and he was a lost man.

Perhaps it was a misled attempt to weed out the bad from the good.

What good man would go down on a 15 year old girl who they taught music to?

Maybe I liked that wickedness, that I could pull the evil from a good man with just my charms and my lips, my body. I provoked the evil in them and let them pour it out over my flesh, feeding that spider-like desire inside of me.

Was I a bad girl?

Was every man I was with a wicked man?

Oh my, but I hate labels...


Maxim de Winter said...

Hmm. Pulling the evil from a good man... interesting idea. Works both ways, though - I recall a few years back when I was seeing a seventeen year old (legal here, I have to add) who was still in school. We still fuck occasionally. She reminded me last time about how I used to like to tie her up and blindfold her before fucking her, and how much it used to turn her on - and it sort of shocked me, how kinky and bad I was capable of being with a schoolgirl... and how come I managed to forget all about it? I must have far too many memories like that to retain them all. But anyway - bringing out the kinky side of a young girl is a very real pleasure, too...

Tara Tainton said...

I was that same shy, straight-A student, and perfect daughter. I guess lack of confidence and fear of my parents kept me from exploring life at that age the way you have. Reading your words about that beautiful inner self that led to your exploration into sexuality is like reading the life of my alter ego, the life I could've had... Nice fantasy to enjoy. ;)


Anonymous said...

Great Post Femme. And I mean GREAT! You have a definite skill in exploring the often dismissed duality that exists within each of us. That exploration also allowed you to define the various components that make up everyones lives. Good for you and keep it up. You are a unique treasure in the blogosphere. SDM

andreas said...

Isn't it sad that teenage girls who act on their desires are labelled sluts? On the other hand, boys are expected to get it on, and are losers otherwise?

I've been to the Netherlands recently, and it's so different there. Young people are actually encouraged to enjoy each other's bodies, and taught how to do that responsibly at early age.

Anonymous said...

Bonjour from France ma petite.

Cajunag said...

Wow. This post gave me a lot to think about. While I wasn't your music teacher, there was a time in my life (maybe even now a little bit ;)) where I would have been him in a heartbeat. Was (am) I a wicked man. Some would emphatically say yes. However, it is difficult to say why we have the desires, fantasies and turn-ons that we do. We don't really plan them. Many times they are part of our inner being. I think they are part of everyone to some degree. Some choose to explore and even embrace that side of their persona. Others never do. I may not have made much sense here, but I don't consider you, or the men, bad or evil. Just human, with all of the frailties and complexities we all share.

I loved the entry...:) I missed reading your blog when I was away.

His fucktoy said...

Hello beautiful you!

You have touched a fine nerve with this fine display of writing. And for whoever "terrorized" your sidebar, well i think it's beautiful! White and pink with feminine undertones suits you well, as i envision your pink lips biting down as you compose away.

Oh yes, this post, evocative of a deep sigh, fragrant with ephemeral lust, is it. And if you are to be labeled, it would be a beautiful prelude, for the rest of the masterpiece comes by making music with one who shares and so wants you to have this same passionate appreciation of the sensuality and power of rhythm... who inspires you... nice.

i, too, also am guilty of this but with a few years tacked on. Such an luscious arrangement but alas, as each and every symphony must, the finale was massive.

i like my Owner life much, much better. And i absolutely adore your new blog look, pinky, and every single one of your sweet words. Beautiful.

xxx's & ooo's