http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com e r o t i c a Sun, 29 Nov 2009 03:06:49 +0000 http://wordpress.com/ hourly 1 http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-1399 OohAah Sun, 26 Apr 2009 17:45:23 +0000 http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-1399 I'm with ya, brother. I'm a voyeur, and the two most erotic sights are as follows. First, shear clothing. Not so shear as to make a mockery of transparency, and not if the woman is nude beneath her clothing. Rather, the translucent shorts, pants, dress or skirt that let me see her panties. I'm not supposed to know if she wears bikinis. I'm not supposed to know that they are full-bottomed but tiny in front. But I do, and I love knowing that she is boldly, publicly letting me and all matter or other people -- married men, older men, women, boys -- into the club of her Personal Intimate Knowledge. Thank you for the invitation, dear. AND SECOND...the most provocative area of a woman's body is that of her breasts below her nipple. I've seen cleavage my entire life, my first memory being that of the inner edges of Charo's voluminous round breasts, pressed tightly together. And I pursued seeing nipples for most of my life, then realized in college that every other man joined me in the same goal. Being a contrarian by nature, I despised that. It made me one of THEM, not someone with more refined taste or keener insight into women or sexuality. And it also gave women a common currency. Their nipples became cash, the sight of which they'd trade for alcohol, attention or even (Heaven help us all) necklaces of plastic beads. No, it is the undersides of a woman's breasts that never see sun or voyeuristic glances, that are bracketed by underwire and nylon bras from early pubescence through the end of life. It is the sight of this palest and softest skin of a woman's breasts that I captivate me, particularly in public. Bless the man (or, more likely, brazen woman) who first cropped a t-shirt, and bless all women who wear short, blousy shirts and then make a point of bending over -- to shoot pool, to tie a shoe, to pick something off the ground -- showing off for me and my fellow voyeur connoisseurs. I'd never approach you...the magic disappears instantly...but it is you who I think of, even when enjoying the passions of a different woman. I’m with ya, brother. I’m a voyeur, and the two most erotic sights are as follows. First, shear clothing. Not so shear as to make a mockery of transparency, and not if the woman is nude beneath her clothing. Rather, the translucent shorts, pants, dress or skirt that let me see her panties. I’m not supposed to know if she wears bikinis. I’m not supposed to know that they are full-bottomed but tiny in front. But I do, and I love knowing that she is boldly, publicly letting me and all matter or other people — married men, older men, women, boys — into the club of her Personal Intimate Knowledge. Thank you for the invitation, dear. AND SECOND…the most provocative area of a woman’s body is that of her breasts below her nipple. I’ve seen cleavage my entire life, my first memory being that of the inner edges of Charo’s voluminous round breasts, pressed tightly together. And I pursued seeing nipples for most of my life, then realized in college that every other man joined me in the same goal. Being a contrarian by nature, I despised that. It made me one of THEM, not someone with more refined taste or keener insight into women or sexuality. And it also gave women a common currency. Their nipples became cash, the sight of which they’d trade for alcohol, attention or even (Heaven help us all) necklaces of plastic beads. No, it is the undersides of a woman’s breasts that never see sun or voyeuristic glances, that are bracketed by underwire and nylon bras from early pubescence through the end of life. It is the sight of this palest and softest skin of a woman’s breasts that I captivate me, particularly in public. Bless the man (or, more likely, brazen woman) who first cropped a t-shirt, and bless all women who wear short, blousy shirts and then make a point of bending over — to shoot pool, to tie a shoe, to pick something off the ground — showing off for me and my fellow voyeur connoisseurs. I’d never approach you…the magic disappears instantly…but it is you who I think of, even when enjoying the passions of a different woman.

]]> http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-517 unobtainable Mon, 29 Oct 2007 22:12:09 +0000 http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-517 I love what you wrote...I do. It reminds me of the thrill of pulling over and giving head on the side of the road...just because...and not caring. Or going out do dinner and having his hand up my skirt all throughout dinner..cumming the whole time...damn those breadsticks where torn to shreds...poor busboy that had to clean up after me. Sweetness. M I love what you wrote…I do. It reminds me of the thrill of pulling over and giving head on the side of the road…just because…and not caring. Or going out do dinner and having his hand up my skirt all throughout dinner..cumming the whole time…damn those breadsticks where torn to shreds…poor busboy that had to clean up after me. Sweetness. M

]]> http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-346 Eve Thu, 02 Aug 2007 18:19:08 +0000 http://theprovocateur.wordpress.com/controlled-exhibitionism/#comment-346 As I continue, albeit hesitantly, to discover how much I want to be seen, I am more and more pushing my own envelope of comfort. I have to admit, your post is a little encouraging. And, gives me some different ideas about how to achieve my desire, tastefully. As I continue, albeit hesitantly, to discover how much I want to be seen, I am more and more pushing my own envelope of comfort. I have to admit, your post is a little encouraging. And, gives me some different ideas about how to achieve my desire, tastefully.

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