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professoryackle
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Feminine Archetypes

Grace
IDryad
Tyrant of Words
122awards
Joined 25th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 16073

I am Woman



Born of Libra
Justice rules
Under Venus
the flirtatious

I do not break
or seek to please
please me do
not me to you

I love
and love to love
seek and I pleasure
but I'm not a whore

I am tough
I am soft
I am an enigma
I am a lot of I.

JohnnyBlaze
Tyrant of Words
United States 23awards
Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 5572

Jestalessa said:
or a character you can get behind


Jestalessa said:
Venus: the Painted Lady
Venusian women start stories and wars. In today’s society, they are our sex icons, our swimsuit and runway models, our strippers and our whores. They live, walk and breathe sex, when it isn’t oozing effortlessly from their pores—and they know it, too. When aggressive, Venusian partners talk dirty and like to be spoken to as such, for they have forgotten the meaning of shame;


Kermit Likes To Cyber Froggy Style


If I were to click on your sausage links
Methinks I would be greeted with a salty meated
Pork tender loined goddess
Minx of a southern belle named Miss Piggy
And her love of Macon bacon

lepperochan
Craic-Dealer
Guardian of Shadows
Palestine 67awards
Joined 1st Apr 2011
Forum Posts: 14449

my apologizes, Miss. under reconstruction



David_Macleod
14397816
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom 39awards
Joined 5th Nov 2014
Forum Posts: 2983

Siren

Dressed in red and looking flighty
Could turn the head of god almighty
Flowing hair, sparkling eyes
Sexy wink, long slim thighs
Breasts to die for, Ruby lips
Thin sheer nylons stunning hips
Movements small and so genteel
Filled to brim with sex appeal
Such intellect, a bon vivant
The only one you’d ever want

She's not for you

seekingkate
kateA
Tyrant of Words
Australia 28awards
Joined 20th May 2014
Forum Posts: 2079

A Woman

She doesn't like being put in a box
Only a man dare say she's one or the other
She is a woman
In her is your every need
Some aspects may be stronger
but scratch the surface and you'll see

Her physical appearance, her age
does not define her
She comes in all shapes and sizes
Remember, don't 'box' her

She is your 'painted lady'
when sex is her prominent need
Your 'femme fatale'
if her desire is more than a 'fuck me' please
She's weaving her web
Golden gossamer is its thread
Enticing you with the 'girl next door'
Drawing you in with the 'guy girl' act
Which ever one will see her succeed

When you vacillate, unsure of what to do
The 'enigma' beams in front of you
Her allure bewitches you
You're driven to the brink, unable to think
because of your desire, your need for her

She'll read you like a book
Turn the pages slowly
She loves the look on your face
as you register each of her graces
She's not being deceptive if you've been chosen
She's just showing you who she is
I'm a woman, who has many seasons











Jestalessa
Dangerous Mind
Scotland 35awards
Joined 27th July 2010
Forum Posts: 2329

One more day to get in on this one, guys... just a li'l bump [:
Great entries so far.
This ain't gonna be easy.
Fun though [:

DystopianMelody
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 9awards
Joined 9th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 1391

 Stolen sea's (Mars)

the rise and fall of her lilting breath
muse to the thunder of the surf
steals the silence of shadows
resting
beneath the shade of the door

where the pleasures of sin were teased
within the lingering scent of nightshade skin
laying languorous on a cushioned floor

that muse
to the founding father
of the art of self recrimination
traced on tingling skin
lines of hopes unspoken

in the venom she kissed
on to his trembling thighs
as she let him sip the nectar
drowning in her honey eyes
for the first and final time

he casts his net to sea and sky
searching in the shelter
of beds and yearning tides
to hear the cadence of her drifting sighs


case28
Alexander Case
Dangerous Mind
42awards
Joined 16th June 2013
Forum Posts: 2077

Would an extension of time be possible? My mangina manual only just arrived in the post.

Jestalessa
Dangerous Mind
Scotland 35awards
Joined 27th July 2010
Forum Posts: 2329

for you, Casemaster, i will stop time. but do, please, hurry the fk up, dahling. [:

hemihead
hemi
Dangerous Mind
New Zealand 13awards
Joined 1st Nov 2010
Forum Posts: 1749

four times a woman

It’s a lie to say that I knew her four ways, but it’s true enough for storytelling, so I’ll tell it. First time I met her she was five years old, a good Christian kid, cute as a button, so damn shy she felt like those butterflies you’ll break if your fingers get near their wings. I was sixteen, friend of a friend of her brother, and I was rough as guts, all knuckles and lumps. I only went to that house a few times, then stopped going there at all, felt out of place, could never speak for fear of swearing. Those people were as foreign to me as I was to them, and they didn’t have to say so, because it just was.

Next time I saw her I was back from work for a weekend, had come to fight in a wrestling tournament. I was as ugly as a wrestler gets, more knuckles, more lumps. She was fourteen or fifteen, still skinny as a pole, but tall enough to look me in the eye. She didn’t though, except once to mumble hello, still that same half hidden smile while backing out of the room. I said to my mate that she was gonna make trouble at youth group in a few years, and he laughed, asked what made me think that she wasn’t already. When I left I saw her and all her friends downstairs, sitting around in the garage. One boy was sitting real close to her, her leaning in, him a clean cut kid, pole-skinny too, wearing a black cut-off t-shirt and torn up jeans, the youth group version of a bad-boy. I laughed before I caught myself, looking straight at him. He flushed. She kept her head down. I felt big and ugly, an intruder.

I didn’t come back to that town again for five years, had started working away, in construction. I’d given up the wrestling to travel with my work-crew, my boys. I was thirty, with two big fists, a lotta cash, and always just passing through. I’d got used to some women liking all those things, them mostly solo mums with time on their hands, and it gave me a kind of swagger. That’s how I arrived, late one Friday, left my gear at a motel and went out looking for food. Found it at a cheap Mexican joint, and found her too.

She was waitressing, was working to pay for a trip she was planning. She wasn’t a girl any more. The curves had come in. She came and sat with me for a moment while I ate, sat right across the small table from me, and out of nowhere, in one slow-time moment, she put a leg either side of mine, had to open her legs wide to do it. I stopped, looked straight at her, tried to read her. Couldn’t, but those legs said plenty. Long story short I took her to a motel two nights later, and got my wish, at least the girl-next-door one. Next morning I shipped out to somewhere else. Heard nothing from her. Let it go at that, figured she must have been slumming, and I’d been the lucky one. Hurt me to think about it, but I liked them to end that way.

After that was nothing to tell for years, just work and more work, then I took a job in the big city. Heard on a trip home that she lived in that city now too. Looked her up. She said yeah sure, come around, and we made it then. Came as close as I ever have. She was far younger than me, but it didn’t matter to either of us, and it was good. I fell in love, well as near to it as I could. Needed her, needed her to need me. Wanted her to say good things.

She didn’t. She had never said that she would. I started to notice then, started to see that I was blind. She was so beautiful that men would stare, even if they had women with them, and they were all fools around her. They were fools like me. I saw it plain, tried to play it different. Couldn’t. Couldn’t treat her like I should have, like the book says you should, especially for the beautiful ones. I could still see the shy little girl. I fucked it up. Between being to soft with her and willing her to love me, I lost her. The job finished. I left town. She didn’t come. Never would have. I was just another man to fuck with.

I left the country soon after, went chasing the big jobs, and ten years went by. I became a better drunk, did it by accident, all those nights in hotels and short-stay towns, all that folding cash in my pocket, it got away on me. There were a lot of women too, but always them just passing through. It all got empty, just days being lived cos the clock hands were moving, liquor and cash and another week on the job. Then one night I got a call, an invite to a party back in the home-town. I said yes. I didn’t say it out loud, may not have even thought it really, but part of me wondered.

She was there the first night, every inch the woman, and we drank. She was thirty three now, and she worked away plenty too, could hold her own on the bottle. We drank most of the night, and then I took her to my room. The sex was dirty, and good, and she took it like a woman who knows what works. The little girl was gone, dead and gone, for both of us.

In the morning she lay there sleeping, and I lay there anything but. I still loved her, could feel that need for her, could feel it like a pull in my chest, and I knew I was fucked. She’d see it as weakness again. I tried to keep a lid on it, tried to be cool. She woke and we did the shit that people do, but I was too far in from every angle. Somewhere in all that we decided to share a car and do some travelling. Within two days she was curling her lip when I spoke the kind things, and it made me angry, so I learned to curl my lip too. The sex got dirtier, drunker, more alone.

In those last days I finally learned all about her, finally took my filters off. It was on another night getting drunk to fuck, and she made a joke, made it between pouring one of her stiff-leg drinks, her leg-opening drinks. “I’ll take my clothes off soon”, she said, “because I’m a slut…and then you can do whatever the fuck you want”. She said it like she was joking, but not nearly well enough, and the drink she poured was the kind you pour when you haven’t got a razorblade handy. I laughed at the darkness that had fallen in to the room, had fallen in to me, said something like “well, ok”, but I got it then, understood why she wouldn’t ever love me. Somebody had broken her. She was wearing shame, wearing it all the way in. I thought back to when she was nineteen, to that motel room, and I hoped it wasn’t then, but you can never know. I got drunker still and we fucked one last time. I didn’t feel it any more. She was just meat. I’d always had nothing to give, and now she was like that too.

There was nothing more.


hemihead
hemi
Dangerous Mind
New Zealand 13awards
Joined 1st Nov 2010
Forum Posts: 1749

(pretty much completely didn't follow your comp-rules…apologies my dear…but, since you sparked the idea, thought I'd lay it here anyway :-)

case28
Alexander Case
Dangerous Mind
42awards
Joined 16th June 2013
Forum Posts: 2077

Grrrrr

case28
Alexander Case
Dangerous Mind
42awards
Joined 16th June 2013
Forum Posts: 2077

hemihead said:

"...I was too far in from every angle."




Maybe it's just a construction thing, but I really liked that line. The whole piece is hard hitting and compelling, hemi.

hemihead
hemi
Dangerous Mind
New Zealand 13awards
Joined 1st Nov 2010
Forum Posts: 1749

case28 said:[quote-297523-hemihead]

"...I was too far in from every angle."




Maybe it's just a construction thing, but I really liked that line. The whole piece is hard hitting and compelling, hemi.
[/quote]

Good man Case....just knocked off the weak last couple of paragraphs, and was about to burn it altogether....you just nick-of-timed it :-)

kriticool
Fire of Insight
32awards
Joined 1st Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 596





.:Miss Staking:.


http://8020.photos.jpgmag.com/3218119_290576_4b61d73386_l.jpg


she’d been like freshwater
the kind that quenches dry land
never bland.. having one always hope
hoping that she’d soon get here or
be there..
either way would be fair; where
what she’d do is take care...take her time..
pulling sanctified gems out of ones mind
so sublime, doing and influencing whom ever she can
oh, the luck of men

she came out of an outstretched past
knew well, deserted plains & abandoned concrete
some of the denizens, they had
intimated, whispering she was some kinda freak
aloud, some called her skank. but no…she wasn't
probably know that if you knew her
she was just worn.  war torn by organized porn
from being told outright; told how she
how she needed to get her deeds right
yeah right, them townsfolk cloaked
some who spoke by taking a vote
but politics sometimes do & don’t break even
where some just won’t chance grieving
while others haven't a problem with
self-deceiving...but yeah

most men-shunning,
how she wasn't discreet enough
their judgments and gossipy consensus
the loose chit-chat streaming back
& forth across fences
but that's what she always had..
more than enough opinions about being bad
so sad - knowing full well that
having an insatiable win
this was a thing most couldn’t tell
so the stares & silence were
big parts of their common dominion
wherein all parties always made themselves
right at home

she’d still roam
not at all concerned with
what a pompous people peeped
under a full moon or not ...she’d run like the sun
freely giving another bright lesson
to herself, considered a blessing...and any bad choice
it’d be a good sample for this great Miss- Staking
yeah, she’s had no problem with taking or
giving into those unhampered minds
sun dried where their empathy
had never been denied

she placed moist lips on a bored stiff
swelling the head with her thrills
naw it ain’t never been about them bills
she could always...and in all ways
change the bitter to the better, then
go further bringing it to what’s sweet
it’s what she believed to be a run complete
the essence of some real raw running
sprinting to “know” end


:


photo: j. stekl




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