Playing With the Waves

Playing With the Waves

Have you played that game along the beach, when you couldn’t or didn’t wish to get wet?

You follow the surf as it recedes, as far as possibly, you ride its heels.

Then you run back, giddy and frantic, wonder if you tempted too far this time.

Everyone ever plays the same, we don’t stop until the tide has caught us.

This is the same rhythm upon men that women tempt our unrelenting hunt.

 

 

 

Do You Go Braless – Or go Cowboy – Do You Ever Have an Ulterior Motive – Commentary & a Naughty True Story

Aren’t you glad that I discuss some topics that are too obscure, or perhaps too frivolous if not too weird, or too perve if not too shallow, for anyone one else to blog about?

I’m happy to be at your service for such topics. And, i usually include a relevant story or two – I don’t just write about two pregnant apes fighting over a banana in the jungle somewhere – at least, not if I have never slept with either one of them at some point.

This post includes a sexy, super naughty, embarrassingly sleazy, phallic, ridiculous true story to enlighten and texturize our discussion on this topic.

I think bralessness is great, and toplessness too,  but there Is one thing I would  like women to understand. Toplessness, bralessness, and boobs in general, stimulate us men – we are attracted and aroused by these things, and there is nothing we can do about it. (I see all you women rolling your eyes, thinking “Duh, like we didn’t know this!”)

I say this, because I have heard some women that advocate for toplessness or bralessness, express frustration that wearing what they want, or don’t wish to, is so often sexualized. They want  to be able to feel natural and free, and have other people see it the same as if a man was shirtless. I understand how they feel, it would suck to not be able to take my shirt off, without people getting worked up and making a big deal of it. (Actually, it kind of would be cool if I could take my shirt off, and it would instantly get a bunch of women horny.)

So, I don’t blame anyone for asking, “why can’t we be topless without getting sexual attention?” or “Why does society sexualize us?” Let me save anyone who is asking such questions some time. It is natural, deep, subconscious, genetic, involuntary, instinctual and ingrained into our evolution, that most men will be interested and attracted to your boobs. if you are braless, and we can see even a bit more of them, they’ll attract us even more.

Of course men should be respectful and not act like pigs around your exposed boobs. The point I am trying to make is that I think it is all good to wear what you want, I hope you wear less, but know that it will have an effect on men, and we can’t help it.

It’s very difficult to know if women ever go braless to be provocative. They must, right? Or maybe not, because I’ve never heard a girl admit to not wearing her bra, because she wanted more attention from men. Maybe the reason is always because it’s just more comfortable; hard to believe, but that’s clearly the story every woman on earth is sticking with.

If you are a female and want to whisper the real answer into my ear, I will  be so grateful, and not turn you in.


The following is a story about the seductive power of bralessness (breasts), and how sometimes us men can tease and seduce too, by the clothes that we wear, or don’t wear.

Jillian was a friend of a friend of one of my ex girlfriends. She was freshly separated from her husband, had no children, and had recently moved into her own apartment when I met her.  Jillian was more of a home maker type, not prude but not wild, she would have preferred to pretend living a white picket fence life, had her husband not bailed on her for a girl ten years younger.

Jillian was in her late thirties when this story took place. She frequently hung out with my girlfriend and I, and our friends. She was too shy or too removed from the dating scene, or for whatever reason never dated anybody after separating from her husband, so as time passed living on her own, she became more flirtatious. It was probably obvious to everyone but perhaps Jillian herself, how much she wanted to get fucked.

I would not describe Jillian’s breasts as small. They were more on the small side of medium. Just small enough for her to almost get away with not wearing a bra, with the right shirt on. Jillian did go braless a few of times while she was around us, and from what I remember she wore modest tops, I distinctly remember a light blue sweatshirt she wore one time; but if Jillian’s breasts were small enough to go braless, her nipples definitely were not, you couldn’t miss them. I can’t say it was necessarily appropriate, but can tell you it was ridiculously sexy. She looked like this:

Jillian

A few years went by – my girlfriend and I had broken up, and Jillian’s divorce had been finalized. I never forgot those times she was braless, her nipples – guys have perfect memory for some things. Jillian and I had become pretty good friends. We didn’t hang out after I split with my girlfriend, but we kept in touch. I hadn’t seen her for months  when she bought a house and asked me to help her with stuff, on several occasions.

The first two times I came over to help her move in, hang art and what not, low and behold Jillian was braless and looking really good. She was still not dating anybody, which was ridiculous, she would have had no trouble getting dates, with the slightest bit of effort, which she did not put forth. When I arrived at her new house, and saw Jillian’s nipples making her t-shirt their bitch for five minutes, I was ready to sign up. I could have gotten erect several times that day, had I not focused and thought my hardons away. My genitals were aching by the time I left, and not in a good way.

Perhaps there is something about the casualness of not quite being moved in to a new home, that lends itself to wearing extra casual outfits, and going braless; because, when I returned to Jillian’s house the next weekend, she was braless again.

A few weeks later, a computer system that Jillian had ordered from Dell arrived. She must have ordered every accessory they offered – printer, speakers, webcam, all kinds of shit that she had never used before and knew nothing about. Jillian was so intimidated by the equipment, the color coded inputs weren’t even helpful, so she asked me if I’d come over again to help her set it up and give her a lesson – I did such things for work.

Jillian’s lack of a bra during my previous visits was sexy, but also teased m. It was probably too much, I mean too little for her to wear around someone she didn’t plan on hooking up with. Not around me anyway, who was just at the hors d’oeuvres stage of life, when my libido would think a mud fence was Beluga, if you put boobs on it.

I decided to wear these thin, grey sweat pants I had, that I would mainly wear over shorts to run, or work out. They were too thin to wear with just underwear, but I wore them over to Jillian‘s, without anything underneath. There was no chance that she would simply notice a bulge or something in my pants, it was guaranteed that Jillian would see the whole thing, or the clearly defined shape of it anyway. What the hell, she knew me well, and I was horny thinking about what she would be wearing. Would she be braless again?

Of course, she was wearing a bra this time, but it was too late to reconsider my outfit once I got there – I didn’t really want to anyway – I liked my plan. I spent a half hour or so setting up  the computer. Meanwhile, Jillian went out and picked up lunch from subway, and we ate our sandwiches standing at her kitchen countertop. I guess spending five thousand dollars on a computer system took priority over a few fifty dollar bar stools? I didn’t ask.

When we were done eating, I gave her a lesson. The  computer was set up on a card table, with fold out legs and all. I sat down in the one folding chair in front of the computer, while Jillian went into her garage to locate another. I looked down to check what my pants were revealing – pretty much everything, these sweats were so thin, they must have been made during a cotton famine; yet, I pulled and tightened my left pant leg a bit more, and now you could even see the definition of my ridge. Jillian returned with her chair and sat down to my right, in perfect view of my lap.

I think she noticed right away. She seemed distracted, and I could tell she was trying not to look; after a bit, she started getting some looks in – a half dozen moments where I was pretending to be entirely focused on the screen, I could see her looking over at me. This went on for a half hour or so, and then she just called it out, in her friendly way. It didn’t surprise me. Jillian is very honest, an open book type of person, so one could expect that something like this would make her feel sneaky or deceptive; especially, if she thought she was seeing something I didn’t know I was revealing; but I knew damn well, and there was nothing about it that was her fault at all, accept for teasing me to death with her tits.

Jillian looked at me – not at the computer screen, or at my crotch, and started to ask – I  thought she was going ask another computer question. She started slow and deliberate, like she was thinking hard about the question.

“Okay, um,” long pause, “sorry, I’m trying to pay attention to all of this, but,” long pause, “your pants… well, I can see your dick, sorry, I don’t know how else to put it.”

I looked down and so did she, at the clearly defined dick she was referring to, then she started talking again, while we, sort of, continued to look down at it.

“Should I have pretended I didn’t see that?”

“I’m thinking maybe these pants are a ‘double up on the underwear’ type of situation?”

Jillian wasn’t mad, she was being light-hearted, if not a bit embarrassed and mainly apologetic –  she actually felt bad that she said anything about it. OH RELAX reader, don’t worry, of course I wasn’t going to let her feel guilty for something that I orchestrated. I just came clean.

“I know. I wore them on purpose, so you would see me. I guess to show you how I feel when you are braless, like you were the other times I came over.”

Jillian paused to let that sink in for a moment. She stole another quick look as she began to reply.

“Oh, you are such a brat, you wore this on purpose? So I would see? oh my god!

I told her I was sorry, that I probably went too far.

“I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes trying not to look,” Jillian said, “and thinking, oh my god I can see his huge dick, what do I do. I couldn’t even concentrate, we might have to repeat our lesson. Is that even real? It’s fake, are you fucking with me?

“Do you like that?” – I asked while nodding down. She looked at it too, while she answered.

“It is very distracting, and also sexy as hell, you shouldn’t be showing that to a woman who hasn’t been laid in a century, I might have a heart attack or something.”

That was all I needed to hear, and I took her hand and placed it on me, and that’s all she needed – she engaged instantly, her breath became so turned on and heavy, it was almost speaking. She explored, squeezed, and rubbed – took it out of my pants.  I left her house the next day.

A few weeks later she invited me over to, not to help with anything, but to “fuck me?” as she put it. Soon after that, both of us started dating someone – we never intended to date each other. About six months later, when neither of us were single, she asked me to come over to fix a computer virus. Her boyfriend was out of town, and now that she was not single, she went from hot to irresistible.  It took me 20 minutes to remove the virus, and I actually was going to leave, but she offered drinks, and I left her house the next morning.

 

 

The Right Pair

But first some frivolous, yet relevant poetry.

Can serve you well,
give you power,
get me harder,
make you Richer.

Can give you class,
show through a dress,
be photographed,
frame your ass.

I posted a secret for the guys a while back, so here is one for the women.

There is one trick I can share with you girls, about how to choose what to wear underneath. It is the simplest trick, but will get you dick, or make you sexier if that’s all you’re after.

The opposite rule

This rule will work with other things too, but it’s especially effective with underwear.

The opposite rule is that you wear underwear opposite the style and tone of your outfit and the situation, or event you’re attending.

If you’re out at a club dressed like a slut, wear conservative and classy underwear. But, if you are at a formal gathering, where the sleaziest panties you can find.

If you want to drive men wild, be incongruent. Don’t bother wearing your nipple clamps to the punk concert, save them for your sister’s wedding, where you’re the maid of honor.

Before you tell me, I know I’m not a lady, and please take or leave whatever suggestions you want to. I know what works and what doesn’t.

Note: If you wear panties that resemble the pair featured below, you could own me & get me to  do most anything.

 

The right pair

 

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