Prick Tease

Maybe its the hip length highlighted hair. Maybe its the tiny pink lips that turn up just the tiniest bit. Maybe its the huge brown eyes shaped so distinctively. Or maybe...its the soul/personality that makes people think/know Im a...prick tease.

Red is the color of passion and in an undergarment - its strikes one as a naughty deed.
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Ive gone through my sexually budded life (namely those that occured after the development of my notable female charms) not what Id call a victim 100% of the time but rather a girl that people regarded the wrong way...or the correct way, considering your view on the many situations Ive found myself in. In many ways I think Im a good person, a good woman; not one with a direct penchant for hurtful wickedness. (Fruitless) Teasing is one of those hurtful, wicked things that are included with many other wicked things on a list in my mind. Its unfortunate for myself and others that women were made especially for this wicked thing - fruitless teasing.

Sex (however we wish it really wasnt) was made at the dawn of time for procreation and like it or not, males were made strong to be able to overpower unwilling women and women were made curvy, delicate, and tempting to make the males want to fuck/force them into the dance of procreation we now so adore as a pleasure activity. Teasing is biological and sadly to some, its unpleasant when made fruitless.

Ive made it clear to some men in my life that my teasing wasnt purposeful/on purpose but Ive been labeled by many as prick tease: a girl who teases for the fun/cruelty of it and not to use it the right way, IE to make good on the tease.

I have many instances that I feel need a review by a third party in order for me to understand whether or not Im being self deprecating or whether Im right: Im just a friendly, sensual girl who loves to have nearly only male friends because they are the best company and not because I like to play with their minds/libidos.

So check them out and let me know what YOU the reader thinks.

Exhibit #1 - A bit of down time:
Normally I hate football but when a good friend in Southern Cali asked me over with a huge group of our (mostly male) friends, I decided coming over, lounging on the couch drinking diet soda while in the company of 6 - 8 football freak boys would not be all together unpleasant. Plus, a sport (or anything for that matter) is more fun when surrounded by people who really are enthused by it.

I decided to wear a pair of hand cut jeans made into nearly knee length shorts and a halter top would be appropriate (it was hot outside) and leaving my hair down and not putting on makeup also suited my casual mood. I slipped over to the house to find everyone there and already pumped with the game in full go mode. Todd, my friend and owner of the house was really glad to see me and gave me the place of honor right next to him on the huge wrap-around couch. I sat sipping my drink, generally in the sweep of the mood surrounding the room and when something good happened (qued to me by all the cheering and cup/can crushing by the others), Todd and I would bounce our chests together, hug and I would kiss him on the cheek in celebration.

When we werent bouncing together actually quite painfully for me and jumping around, we were sitting on the couch, watching the game, his hand on my knee as I sat cross-legged on the couch, the hand containing my cup, across the back of the couch more or less around his shoulders. Lounging is one of my favorite chill-out activities and this was a prime example.

Some background would probably be helpful too, to clear this all up: Todd and I had met at a party when I first moved back to California when I was 17 and began our first meeting by talking (in man-to-man like fashion) about how lame chicks were with their catty-ness and their bitchy ways. We had sort of that dude relationship that I so relish in many of my dude friends. Its very comfortable because you can be yourself absolutely and ignore all the pretense of being an uber-chick by being super proper or stuck up. Its very nice.

I had always regarded Todd with this kind of aire of friendship and chill, so I thought some friendly intimacy would be totally fine and proper. All people like friends who display their affection, even when it isnt intimate.

I got up after another one of those bouncing interludes and went to the kitchen to find ice and found myself bending down over one of those sliding drawer freezers coaxing some small chunks of ice from a huge frozen-together mess of ice when Todd comes in. He pulls a beer from the water filled sink and pops it open, leaning against the sink while I continue. He asks me if I actually like the game and I remark that simply being around friends is fun enough for me. I stand and lean against the sink too, sipping my drink while we chat a little.

When I turn to go back into the living room when he stops me by grasping my wrist gently, I turn with a smile and before I can realize it, I feel lips against mine. Todd's lips. I pull back giggling and pat him on the shoulder in an "Ok you got me fashion" and turn again when he stops me...again. I put my hand on my hip and level my eyes with his, a slightly amused look on my face. Hes gone all puppy-eyed and fragile in 2 seconds flat and I dont know what to do. His voice is near pleading,

Whats the matter? You dont want me to kiss you?

I smile and respond,
Yeah, thats fine, but were just buds, so just friendly ones from now on, the passionate kiss thing is a little much to just give to any old chick you hang out with.

His face darkens ever slightly,
What do you mean "just buds"? What about the living room?

What about the living room? We're watching football not shooting porn.

We were cuddling! He says in a slightly agitated way.

I look around sort of puzzled, sort of distressed, confused. My response is slow,

Maybe you felt my affection a little too keenly, I only meant to give a sense of comfort, not emotion. Maybe you didnt understand. Im sorry, but Im just hanging out with you. We're friends, right?

His head sort of dips and he looks up quickly,
Well I guess, sure, I get it. Youre just teasing me, maybe its fun for you.

He walks out of the room dejectedly and sits out with the other boys, slightly pouting, slightly triumphant. As my mind sort of swirls like a cockeyed puppy, I ask myself something: Why are some guys such idiots!? Or, Am I an idiot for thinking people are evolved enough to handle physical intimacy without thinking something like sex will result?


Exhibit #2 - Alcohol Becomes Her:
In an alcohol fueled lounge session at an alcohol fueled party, Sean #3's thigh was my pillow as he sat and I laid in the grass together at 3 am in the Southern California hills.

Sean #3(known as such because we had two other friends named Sean and his was the third when arranged alphabetically) and I had grown up together off and on, sharing teachers, sharing friends, sharing friends who happened to be in relationships, sharing friends who had broken up. When we were super young (7) my friends and I used to spend lunch recesses running after his friends trying to kiss them on their cheeks as Sean #3 kept score, but I never kissed him.

He confirmed we were buds by carrying me around when I was drunk or tired or both and making sure I got into bed and then locking the door after he yelled into my house "Your daughter is Home....AFTER CURFEW!" before dashing away to his car, enveloped by laughter as my mom stomped down the hall to my bedroom, on the attack.

I bashed his girlfriends, he bashed the guys I dated and then fucked. I bashed his ugly dog and he bashed my ugly shoes. We were buds.

As we laid in the grass, looking at the stars and talking about how we never really are ever happy and how weird it would be if our universe was actually so small it could fit in someones pupil (Yeah, think that one over!) I brought up the subject of never finding a good guy that meant anything to me. He responded with a shrug first and then after thinking about he spurred the conversation,

Yeah, it would be great to date a really close friend, stay friends, support systems, love each other and fuck too. That would be the best.

I nodded overenthusiastically,
Oh yeah, people do that all the time thought, they do it, its good.

Wouldn't it be great if WE could do that? I mean god, that would be perfect.

I nodded again, a little too much,
Oh yeah, hella perfect. ::hiccup::

He looked down at me and I giggled at him, thinking he was putting on a show of seriousness. When youre drunk, everything is light and fluttery and...funny. He put a hand on my belly and before I knew it, he was kissing me. I giggled into his face and he rose up, blushing and sort of angry,

What the fuck Petite? Why is it funny? I just asked you and you basically said you wanted to be with me. Whats up?

I sat up so fast the sky fell down,

I DID? What? What?

He nodded, again, pretty angry,

Yeah man, whats wrong with you, are you some kind of tease now? Huh?

My face scrunched up, my eyes sort of crossed,
What? What?

He got up with an angry sigh and stocked away, muttering confusedly. I am still so upset about this incident because he still wont let me forget it. How was I a tease by answering some drunk fueled deep conversation? Maybe that's what made it worse, the tipsiness. Maybe I don't know men as much as I would care to think? God save me from all the blue balls I have spurned over the years unknowingly.

As for now and ever, I remain myself and if I scorn men on the way with my buddy-chick-friend-vibe wouldn't it seem like advance would seem a bit of a miscommunication?

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Dirty/Sexy Lyrics: Louis XIV

Louis XIV isnt just one of the more scandalous French Kings: a fiery Alternative band bears this strong name and boy, are they scandalous too. Their song "Pledge of Allegiance" has nothing to do with Patriotism nor the American Flag.

I can't believe this album art is sold in the public venue - but I'm so glad it is.
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With themes of underage sex, bondage, sex games, nudity, secret rondevous, and female lubrication; you know you have a winning song. Not to mention the fact that sound clips of orgasms are thrown in. Ohh baby, we have a hit in this one.

My diagnosis is one of not only a catchy, indie rock song but really entertaining to sing along with (and did I mention that I like to dance around to it in my socks and panties?). The following lyrics ought to turn a few heads, if not turn ON a few things.

My comments are {bracketed} & lyrics are italic.

Aw little Stacy Q when
She doesnt have a thing to do
She comes to my house
Well lets keep that between me and you
She takes of her clothes
She likes to tell this boy what to do
Lets keep that between me and you, okay?

{This ^ verse reminds me of chaste rondevous in my neighborhood and city, in other peoples bedrooms and one time...my kitchen. And plus, who doesnt like the thought of a cute, sassy little chick bossing around a man, letting him know just what he has to do to get her to comply?}

She said "Oh come on boy,
Aren't you tired of talking about sex?"
I said "Little girl, what do you really expect?"
And then she pledges her allegiance
To the United States of me

{Sounds like a pet's pledge to her Sir to me, what about you?}

Oh she says
"Lets play a game
When you hear me make a sound
Just go quite a bit faster
Pretend I'm gagged and bound,"
Oh how I love to hear that sound

{This is quite a suggestion of a game, sounds like marvelous fun. I guess volume level as an increaser or speed? Lovely.}

Milkshake milkshake
I love to feel you sweat
We dont have to go to the pool
If you want me to make you wet

{For those fellow females gifted with the ability of extreme self lubrication, this is an all too familiar circumstance. How many times have you found yourself (or with a chick) who reminded you of a watery element?}

Can you keep a secret
'Cause the best little secrets are kept
And your my best little secret yet

{Its true, secrets add intrigue and interest to any affair...sexual or just lacsivious, or both.}

Well, kit kat kit kat
Kitten you're the kicks
She said "Let me feel you lovin' me
I mean come on make it stick
Aren't I the best of your little baby chicks
Oh youre my sweet tooth sugar fix"

{All girls love a bit of flattery, even if you are already knee-deep and rockin away.}

Tick tock tick tock
Oh baby forget the clock
You dont have to do a thing
And you know I like your big talk

{Sadly, sometimes time is of the essence, but ignoring does make it much more of an adventure.}

Just make sure to close the shades and turn the lock

{...Cuz no one likes to have an audience of pokey neighbors.}

But can you keep a secret
'Cause the best little secrets are kept

{Oh yes I can keep a secret...but who really wants to remain silent?}

So, in summation; Music as food for the soul? How about food for the libido.

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REDESIGN!!!!!! If you're an avid reader and you care anything about page design - this blog has been redesigned by yours truly. What a wonder a splash of paint (hex code), a nice big kiss (tagged image) and a new text style (Latha) can do to wake up an old depressed design!
Hurrah for the new design!

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Tagged: Five Secrets

Since my lovely friend Kyma, found it necessary to grace my name with a Tag, I've no choice but to comply with a counter reply to his mention.


So the name of the game is: "Five things not revealed yet on your blog."


And though I'm far from a blushing closed book - Here goes nothing...

The presence of this VERY overused Playboy Bunny will soon make sense.
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1. Last night I was watching a French film at 2 am
or so and there's a scene where a man and a street walker have an agreement to meet up under a bridge and they're to enact a play-acting rape, right there in the tunnel beneath the bridge in the middle of the night. (The movie is not the secret - the result of it is). So the street-walker shows up and the man is leaning up against the wall and then leaps at her and wrestles her to the ground and thus begins one of THE LONGEST rape/sex scenes in a film I have ever seen - and I watch a ton of these French films. The vague picture of it is that the girl is down fully on her stomach and hes behind her, atop and raping her...bum.

And though its somehow wrong, I had that distinct itch you get when you know you want to touch yourself....and so I did, violently, right along with the film and I have to tell you - it had to have run for at least 15 minutes....no joke. Brutal film bum rape with him pulling her hair and her resistance and a full 15 minutes.
 
After wards in the scene it turns out the girl wasn't the street walker, but a daughter of an aristocrat and the real streetwalker had been in a car accident, thus delaying her.
Now as much as that could be seen as shameful, Its only film, right?
2. I sleep with my herb filled comfort bear named "Bear" every night,
cuddled in the crook of my neck, his weighted body over my chest (Not necessarily sexy, but a secret nonetheless). This type has been used for centuries to help people with depression and seperation anxiety, but I just love him because he feels like a real baby and smells really good. :)
3. So now for some nostalgia;
When I was around 13 we had a new digital cable box put in and I guess it was a mistake but they gave us the Playboy channel in my parents room (or WAS it an accident? *shudder of disgust*). When I was alone in my house, I would lay in my mom's huge four poster bed and watch that illicit channel, mouthing the words of the slutty porn stars and watching amateur clip shows, of the likes of "America's Funniest Home Videos", not meant to be funny...but sexy.

One day I was watching an episode of the clip show and they showed a sequence of two women in Horse Play gear, trotting around a horse yard, neighing and clipping their hooves and nuzzling each other. I was just rolling in laughter on the bed, thinking it a grand comedy. After though, I couldnt help but feel a pang of longing to investigate this thing further. Maybe it was just childhood curiousity?

I mean afterall, my family (including I myself) have been very accomplished Equestrians. :)
4. Im going to the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico a month from now in May on scholarship for University with my favorite Professor and some other students to the rainforest. I'm so excited! Though the downside is that it means no sex for the duration...30 days...a whole month! Plus I have a roommate the entire time!
I know....buzz kill.

Though I know the web exists all over the world, posting may be scarce as I dont think they have wireless internet many places in the deep rainforest....but I'll try my best. Who knows, it may be the adventure of the century to report on.
5. I play on my pink Nintendo DS all day long....or when I have time. Oh dear lord, why was I made into a techie web-programmer gamer nympho girl trapped in the body of a 50's pin-up?

But then again, it is a pretty fun life.
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So, as fun as that was, here's my 5 reciprocal tags (evil laugh inserted here):
- F.C. of "Nothern Lights and Sleepless Nights"
- Dark Pixie of "Inside Dark Pixie"
- El Cuervo of "Brain Mayhem"
- RonJazz of "Dont Let the Wind Blow You Away"
- Fucktoy of "Married Man's Fucktoy"

And now let's see the results!

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A Tiny Flame

The amazement I still have with my body translates to this desire to always keep sex and sensuality fresh and tempting in my mind.

Can you read someone's mind? How about their curves?
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I write fantasy in my bedroom, the lights dulled and my lips quietly mouthing the dirty words that my feminine charm forbids me to utter out loud, my pen writing out a smooth scripture upon the page of my desires. I play with lovers (now only with my boyfriend) with an amazed wonder to find a fresh beat of light behind every sensation and burst of friction that my body joyfully succumbs to. I touch myself with the unbridled curiosity of a newly be-chested adolescent because it makes it more fun,

"Look here what is this...oh my....MMMMM."

Kind of like that.

I love to capture the different curves of my body on my camera and play with light and color and background, sensuality. I sink into my bed and observe my own curves, how ever imperfect or how ever "just me" they are. I'm trying very hard to fall back in love with my body, to find myself in love with the pieces of me, but all put together.

When I touch myself in the quiet hideaway that is my room and my body presses into the silky black sheets I make a map and travel route of an imaginary tongue from place to place on my body.

Sometimes my invisible lover starts at my ear lobe, traveling down my neck to bite me, to lick me and to travel down my chest to the swell of my breasts and pressing smooth lips against their flesh, my body falls to a moan. I can feel it travel down between my breasts, over my ribcage and down the little path to my pierced navel, kissing horizontally over each hips before dipping down to kiss the tops of each thigh, the lips becoming wet and more intense with each passing second.

I can day-dream myself into believing that the pleasuring mouth travels down over each knee and to the instep of my foot, kissing my tattoo there and licking the ball of my foot before sucking a small toe into the cavern of a hot and silky mouth.

I can feel my body splay as my fingers slide over my clit and I can just imagine bright and passionate eyes peering at me as strong hands gently hold my heel as a sensual mouth pleasures my small and curvaceous foot.

When my passion inflates my fingers slide to my mouth and my tongue lazily flicks over my fingertips, the receptive skin feeling there the silk of my tongue. I want to believe that there is so much that I can learn about myself and about other's bodies and minds from sexual contact, from possessing them and letting them possess me.

My more perverted dreams are of being taken so roughly, so passionately and so unyieldingly that when my will has been slightly broken and my orgasm has come so strong so that at the end I'll cuddle slowly like a baby and wrap my small hand around the wrist of my lover in an unspoken gesture of submission and gratitude.

I love when Gadget takes me from behind, his stomach pressing at me and curving over my back as he holds my breasts in both hands, whispering to me of my beauty and my wetness, his pleasure at my feminine graces.

The closeness pushes at me until I can feel his flesh like my own pressed so tight to my back as I bend, my feet touching as my knees support us both on the bed's soft pillowtop. I can feel him so deep inside of me and though I feel like it should last forever my mind is bent out of nature and it makes me crave the end so that I can look back and understand what intimacy is.

I always ever wanted that closeness, that drive and that spirit of longing to be in every facet of my life, if not just in my sexual one.

And I'm feeling that as each day passes, that I'm realizing that sex isn't just a game to be played and won, its a closeness, its a feeling and it makes me feel alive.

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[If you have seen the seeming "mistake" in the date, it isnt so, I just wont be around a computer for Monday's post so therefore I am posting it early....hows that for responsiblity? -la petite]

Sugasm #74

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