Erotica I
by Rhea
Due to the
subject matter that is delved into here, I guess it needs to be rated over 18
or something, even if my conservative mind will surely prevent me from saying
anything really interesting from a hardcore perspective
This would
be both a new challenge in terms of how daring I could be with my language, for
I mean to write about erotic and sexual issues, and a provocation in terms of
sincerity or lack thereof, and depth of reach.
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Will I get any insight into why am I
acting so frustrated at times
-
Anger management would get better? As
a result of online introspection
I am
reading this amazing book about the teenage boy called Vernon Little, who makes
this wonderful point, together with so many others, that in analysis, the
tendency is to repeat whatever the patient is saying, at least on TV:
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I think about that woman, on the
Black Sea Coast
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You think about a woman on the
coast- is what I gather and how do you feel about that?
Where to
begin – this seems to stop me in my tracks, even if the early days could well
do the trick, if only they would not be so dry and sunburnt, pretty much like
the desert, or maybe not?
There have
been some games with at least a couple of cousins and this is already a first,
for I did not talk about this before and that is exactly part of the intent of
this exercise, to let out in the open chapters that have been embarrassing,
uneasy for a rather conservative mind, but they need to escape and anyway show
up, if not in print, like so much fashionable mommy porn, at least on a screen
here…where only my macaws can look at it and say…lala or papa….
From the
two cousins, one turned out to be really horny and slutty, however wrong it may
be to say that about a woman who has –surely- gray hair today and tends to
vegetables down in the fields of Spain- from what I hear.
She was
blonde and beautiful- up to about the age of twenty two, I would say, when she
got mixed up with a guy who abused her and then it all went downhill.
Our fooling
around took place when I was about 12- I would say, but my word is as good as
any, for these memories are getting all mixed up- and here’s another motive to
put something down and make a profile of early alienation or juvenile psychopathy,
or whatever.
She was 14
or so and we got to see each other naked and that was all, for to anticipate, I
could only have real sex with an actual woman only at the glorious age of
twenty (20)!!
After that
all hell would break loose, with a never satisfied impulse to make up for the
time lost, for the humiliation of trying so hard for so many years and not
getting any (I would start using “bad „words from here on- I guess) pussy.
To summarize
all that will be said here – for about eight years I have tried hard to get
into bed, car or anywhere with a girl without any luck, only to be so humongously
successful after that- in this, alas, flimsy department- that I need to put it
down now and look at it and try to explain-
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What does it all mean, if it means
anything
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How much of an impact this had on my
perspective
Granted, I know
that the most crucial event was falling sickly in love with –let me call her
Ana here- a girl that, after 500 days of summer rejected me and with that
managed to surpass all the influence of sick, normal, dominant multiple, obsessive
or any kind of sex that I would have after-and perhaps even before her…
But with
the love story I chose another domain and here it is dirty stuff that I want to
look into, for who knows, maybe the aforementioned statement could turn out
false, or indeed, because of my unfulfilled desires I failed to make a
tremendous impression on Ana- was it this the name? - Or anyway enough to get
her to stay with me.
This philandering,
in the famous case of don Juan and Casanova, like in all the other situations- I
guess- hides an insecurity, an unfulfilled desire to be accepted and loved, a
search for the epitome, the eternal woman.
Going back
to the early stages of this man, when I peeked under the table at school, when
a girl came without panties- or so we thought in our feverish imagination, and
then looked to every opportunity to see female flesh.
Back then,
there was not net, with its (too many??) millions of photos and videos, so I had
to pay all of my savings to get a few pictures of naked, sexy women that made
me masturbate by…mistake.
Even that
is somewhat strange, for nobody told me about this way out of the boiling pan,
with my father encouraging, hinting and asking about me getting any- if I remember
right- but being too shy somehow to instruct me.
Well he did
try with intermediaries, like this doctor that I remember vividly, asking me in
his cabinet about sex and then spitting out a catch phrase that I would hear so
many times after that
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Remember, you fuck or you don’t –
the time of the prick will pass
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Futi nu futi, vremea pulii trece
It sounded
much worse, vulgar in my language, which is another issue here- for I am much
more at ease with vulgar words in English than in my own native tongue, where I
avoid fuck, unless there is a driver who cuts away or a macaw shits on my head,
or blows my brains out with that incredibly loud sounds they use and need in
their original environment, to be heard by any god damn possible companion, one
hundred miles away in the Amazon or whatever…
There have
also been plenty of jokes and one comes to mind, with a character that was used
in all circumstances, together with policemen, Ceausescu and a few other “heroes”-
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Bula –that was the infamous name- is
out to a kind of sexy, striptease maybe (?) show with his father. The plot is
arcane and escapes my mind, it probably had some goings on w-with groups of
less attractive women going with various categories –I am just making this up-
like farmers, miners, whatever
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But the most attractive remain a
puzzle or are just remote, aloof, they stay there forever and they just fire up
the imagination of this – rather anti-hero- who back home or out of the club
asks-
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Father, who is fucking these
gorgeous babes?
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Common, who do you think?
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??
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The prize winners aka premiantii
The joke is
not really hilarious- don’t you think? - But it stayed with me for two reasons-
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First, we had a tendency to use the
punch lines from a number of frequently told funny stories or movies and they
became leitmotifs or even ways to greet one another-
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Second and more important, it became
a kind of a conclusion that whoever gets out being with “better women” needs to
be a winner, a boxer with trophies, a clever dude winning all the exams with
top grades, etc.
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Third, when contemplating a possible
adventure, a single woman seemingly looking for a partner, or just some
conversation, in many other instances- bad as we guys were, this thing would
pop out as a conclusion
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What do you say about that girl or
those dames?
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You know who fucks them…
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The prize fighters, the winning
nerds, the dollar- holding fucking foreigners or variations on the theme
