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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