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Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Gracie!!!!!!!! I am so happy and feel so alive. A lust list!! Is beautiful this
lust list! Something new, how you say – a novelty! I feel so excited! My
feelings make my feet tap under the desk. We have so much to discuss and play
with. We both have dating double life. It is a true double life with dates,
rich men and now hot men too. This is even better than I could imagine. By day
we dabble (I like this word) in dullness and by night we have lust lists. I
need to write a lust list just to say I have written one.
I had to stop typing
because one of the girls came over and peered at me. She noticed my leg, how
you say juddering, and asked what was going on. My eyes went wide and I said,
‘I just made one hundred payments!’ My voice was high and filled with great
joy. She did not believe me because she rolled her eyes but I know she is
scouting for gossip. The other women glanced at me before they sent her over. She
has the smallest bottom so had no issue leaving the chair. If they had any clue
about our double lives then I would be centre of all the gossips. I probably am
their gossip focus already because my knickers remain fresh and white because
boyfriend keeps buying and buying. ‘Here darling another lace thong.’
‘Thank you your thong
buying highness!’ It seems lace thongs have been bought as priority over food.
A decorated Russian bottom paraded rather than buy a decent meal? Men always
amaze me in the order that their brains work. Sex, food, sleep. Simple. Dick,
stomach, rest.
Oh dear the women all
type fast and watch me. Bloody, bloody hell! How terrible... Grey-knicker
wobbly bottom women watching my every move, they are all discussing whether
there is gossip. War of the over washed-knicker worlds! This is like gossip
vultures all waiting and watching from the tree. I am innocent animal that they
wait to swoop on when I have moment of weakness. I will fend them off with lust
list written neatly on ‘To do list book’. You know when I look at these women I
feel sorry because I bet they have not felt desire or passion for years.
Flannel pyjamas and giant underwear keeps their men in sheds playing and away
from them! No wonder men invest in model train sets and small gadgets... What
else can they play with other than dick?
Right lust list
time... I have to make payments now and try to get to one hundred before they
check on me... Bloody! Bloody! Bloody! Oh and Siberian village send regards.
They said they are looking forward to next dating instalment. They were very
sad about Andreas and his Christmas Eve cocktail sausage slipping in direction
of other woman. Shame he did not slip on own sausage and squash it!
Eva.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00NE2OGWE
Hello Eva,
I am between calculations at the moment. I thought I would
rapid type just a quick elaboration on what I realised about my relationship
approach while I was away. It seems I have been seeking out a man for a
long-term relationship based on all the things I ‘should’ want. Do I really
want them? Where did I get these ‘shoulds’ from? Then I realised that we are
all set Hollywood criteria and fairytale ‘Happy Ever Afters’. Why? I have a
sneaky feeling it is to do with the fact that it controls society. People stay
in shyte relationships for economic reasons and fear of being alone. Also women
don’t want to be the source of scathing gossip from fat, bitchy women whose
husbands gain more pleasure playing with a small train than having passionate
intimacy with them. Dark eh? All these comments about single people having
something wrong with them. All this bitchiness about how they spend so much
time on how they look and what do we see from the other side of the single
coin? People who have become complacent of the person they fell in love with.
Where there was once passion, now there is child vomit and flannel pyjamas. No
wonder they resort to gossip. I hope I never take for-granted any man that I
fall passionately in love with.
I came to the conclusion that lust is beautiful because it
takes you into the body and drives you towards desire. Why are we made to feel
guilty about natural instinct? Passion comes from somewhere – it is life force
and there are times when a woman simply needs a bloody good snog and a pair of pectoral
perfectus to caress. They will often belong to a younger man who is not nasally
hair challenged like the older ones... Some people might say this is a bit ‘cougar’
yet while I was laying on a sun lounger being massaged by a rather attractive
young man – it dawned on me. Who said it was right that stinky, hairy men with
cash had the right to date young totty because they have wealth? Why do people
sneer at women with younger men when those younger men are searching for
learning and understanding on how to truly love and honour a woman’s body? Who
is there to teach men properly about how to respect and truly pleasure a
woman’s body? How many of them actually know it takes around twenty minutes to
bring a woman to a heightened sexual state and there we are Boom – a blown out
sausage wonder in less than a quarter of that time! Amazing. Someone needs to
get porn off the internet and provide proper learning to both sexes about the
pleasure of the body rather than diagrams of where to shove a tampon given by a
female teacher with a moustashe!
In the meantime, some clever nostril-hair-clad rich old
bloke got all the old boys together and got them to ‘cash in’ on the stupid
idea of female beauty exchange for old fart finance. ‘Let’s persuade women to
tolerate all our dull unfulfilling chatter and arthritis because we can pay for
a decent meal. ‘We will set the rules because we pay and they will admire us! It
is fair exchange chaps! Tally-ho!’
I thought about the rich idiots I dated who believed they
had power over me because they had money. I explained to each of them that I assumed
that wealthy men would be of high intelligence and provide great insight. I did
not need their money because I have money so there is no power dynamic, so why
do I have to play by these shyte rules? I am sure that impressed them.
So I came to the conclusion during the massage that for a
woman to truly be herself she must love herself completely and not allow
herself to tolerate that which does not make her heart shine and glow. She
needs to connect to her true femininity and embody it. I was reading a book
about embodying the sacred feminine along with another book about ignoring
fairytales. It then got me thinking about how we are fed fairytales of wealthy
princes. Clever isn’t it? Persuasion from the beginning to be saved by a rich
prince. If this does not happen then you fail. Earn your love by being
beautiful. In the meantime, someone with a persuasive voice advised women ‘you
know you can get really nice shoes if you tolerate an old man because he can
buy you stuff. Both sides were benefitted – nice shoes in exchange for rancid
nostril hair tolerance. And so the dynamic continues – the old financial fart
exchange. Both parties know the financial fart exchange stinks but both ignore
the smell because money is involved! All these ideals make me go - Grrrr!!!!
Rant. Rant. Rant!
While I was by the pool, I watched a prunesque old bloke
with white chest hair and leopard skin trunks flaunt his bustily-modified
girlfriend who was definitely twenty years his junior. She strutted while he
surreptitiously passed wind. He had no control. It was so weird when he was
doing breast-stroke in the pool and a trail of bubbles rose to the surface with
every kick. The air was filled with the aroma of intestinal sulphur. And she
had to put up with that in exchange for cash and body modification. She was his
status symbol and he was her income. Errch... I just realised ‘in come’ there
we are – there is the fluid financial exchange!
I will send you the LUST list shortly... I have realised
something big. It seems that youth is exchanged as a commodity. What a
superficial world. Does no one truly know how to love in the deepest sense?
What has become of the value of maturity and wisdom? I realise that I am
superficial in some ways; although I have been out with people sixteen years my
senior and ten years my junior. I love the insight from the ones who were
actual gentleman and the advanced conversations. The unfortunate truth is that
I am too energetic for them and they often nod off before anything amorous
takes place. The younger chaps are fun and full of energy and you can do lots
of activities but lack the maturity to provide insight. Where is the happy
medium without the baggage? After all of this reading and massaging I realised
I like being single and having freedom. This whole dating lark is an adventure
really. It provides a great deal of learning about others and myself.
Gracie.
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