My daughter told me once (or twice) that Madonna has her intimate parts on display because this is what women in their fifties wish: to struggle for their youth! Oh my, I feel like in this trend since my early forties. Oh wait, am I in a trend? Uhm, thought that I’m too crazy about myself to get caught in fashionable mass trends. What if “The” fashionable trend of the day is being too infatuated with one’s self?
Turning the itch into a hobby, and furthering the hobby into some kind of business, will arrange the mirrors into a better perspective.
According to a group of fans, I should show not just more skin (already showed it all) but also more holes (opened and filled, that is), more partners, more dares, more this, more that… More… More… MORE!… This is the say of the devil, the desperate accretion of the null towards the infinite.
Whatever the mathematicians would say about zero and infinite, I know (gut instinct) that in reality (not in this virtual box serving only five of our many senses) there is no zero and therefore no infinite. There is no ‘MORE’ in real life!
Another group (roughly defined) of fans wants to see less of me, to get less attention, to hear less approval. They love the tease, the pursue of the ineffable, the dream for the untouchable. Their sexual desire seems like an eternal chase after fairies.
Let’s call them poets. And let’s call the former group (deep-holes-watch-for-more) the prosaics.
With a penchant for poetry, knowing that gracefully aging rejects any ‘more-related’ frenzy, I wish to step closer to the poets. Oh, sorry. Not close enough so you can catch/touch me. It’s just a metaphor, dear! And here I am, the unsuspecting vagabond roaming the Fetish Scene.
Look! A prosaic (I know him) awaits, firmly roped, for that huge toy dangling between a lady’s legs. But… Let me see… Yes, the prosaic of yesteryear has matured into a poet. Perhaps that adding hole upon hole, zero over zero, the total sum will always be a hole, a zero. Satiated by nothingness, one has to grab for something, to make a fetish and live by it.
From my personal experience, when panic attacks offered my eyes (and mind) enough landscapes of emptiness, I had to grasp on something tangible during my hunt for The Constant. My personal fetish proved to be myself. Like Madonna and all the fifty-something naked mothers out there following the trends of the epochs.
The side effect of our narcissistic feminist movement is visible on fetishist men. And I suppose that we’re doing a good job by turning more and more prosaics into poets. OMG, did I say more and more? Sorry! Let me fix this: a narcissistic feminist does a good job with every prosaic man that she has turned to poetic fetishism.
If I’d be a politician, I’d exclaim: what a dandy new world!
Not quite a politician, I’m just an arrogant woman (it’s a fetish too, couldn’t believe my eyes) in love with herself and every poet out there. Love thy poet as you love thyself.
Welcome to my tiny (but mighty) fetish universe! Have a pen and write me some verses. Of which I’ll pretend to ignore (another astounding fetish) after reading them, because I read all your lines – I’m the self-loving narcissist craving for attention, remember? Oh wait, I spoke it again. That was then, now I’m back into my bossy shoes. Heck, hard to steer the line straight…
Excerpts from my love letterbox.
The slightest movement ripples the fabric;
your nipples harden in the movement.
A warm body stand close,
looking down in admiration and desire.
By erection alone,
one strap is slipped off your shoulder.
All starting with a warm breeze.
— / —
Doris i love the sensual and classy way you tease… …
such a soft sexy body so enjoyable to see
by The Seaman
— / —
My D D,
Want 2 fuck /suck/rim
My D D,
Then may I say I would die to have sex with you,
ur sweet wet Mouth/Pussy & arse . mm.
Luv 2 love/make luv 2 u ,
to have sex with someone as classy and sexy and beautiful as you.
In fact just the thought of having sex with you just might do it.
You are gorgeous. You really give new meaning to that word.
(Doris’ note: we’ve just assisted to a live prosaic-to-poet metamorphosis.)
— / —
What a perfectly beautiful woman,
amazing body… but your face is STUNNING!
— / —
I would luv to be under that table salivating at the sight of your luxurious pelt and hoping you would grant my desire for it.
— / —
I would start by worshiping your feet then lick those gorgeous legs ending up eating your wet pussy while reaching my hand up to play with your nipples. I want you to cum in my mouth.
— / —
Its the whole package
Rach and I love all you show. From your face to your tiny tiny foot. From your sweet lovely breasts to your lovely furry nest. We love real women!
The lines above are excerpts from comments to these pics.
The teaser to my teasing “I Ignore You” – a fetish film.