Sunday, August 27, 2006

My Secret is out


From the minute I turned the telly on, my eyes were instantly transfixed on her. Transfixed on those bossoms, the well curved hips, the way she walks, the german accent and her facial nubility when she talks about her body, her breasts, flauting it as if it were toys that men like me could hold, play with and nibble on. Of all the wonderfully beautifull things on TV these days, heidi's bare bottom come out as the top 10 things I would most like to tongue. Is it me, or did you too notice those hips sway when she walked, as if she were completely and utterly unclothed, virginal red in those sensitive valleys and firm on those beautifully curved tight hills.

Saying this I can actually recall some MAS stewardess friends of mine who were actually just as hot. They would come home in a pair of tight kebayas and you could almost hear their naked bodies scream from underneath their body huging clothes, wanting to come out to play in the bare. And a couple of times they did come out to play, most of the time in the back seat of my trusted mazda capella. During those times, we'd club crawl around town and end up at the club-that-closes-at-six, usually tired but horny and doing things that I shall not describe in a family orientated site like this. These chicks can after all jump out of their airline issued kebayas faster than you can say "Is it too large for you?".

Watching her telly show for 30 mins was enough to engrain a permanent image of her in the corners of my mind, with filthy thoughts of sweaty acts of love. Some decent, others not. Passionate lourne I might add. Its funny how the mind works, in defining beauty doesn't it? Discreet intimate clothing is another definte turn on, for most boys I would imagine. Hence victoria secrets didn't really get rich by capitalizing sales to women, but more for them men i believe. After all it is men, that ladies would dress up for.

Having been to a traditional boys school, I know of a number of minds with curious but definate inclinations for transexuals. Now we aren't talking about school boys curiousity for the birds and the bees here. These are fully grown men, with families and powerfull careers in banking and the government. Some are even political representaties for constitiencies. These men may be different in careers, but the one thing that they share in common, is their love for illicit and intimate relations with transexuals whom they pick up in lobbies of hotels or arranged appointments through contacts.

One fine example is a sick childhood friend called praba ganesan. Having known him in my early teens when we would catch the same bus back from school together, i hve always noticed his inclinations for intimacy of the bizzare when he started asking for phone numbers from drag queens while all the other kids got phone numbers from CBN or BBGS chicks. He was just feeding his lust for these not-so-female legs for hire, well into his early adulthood i heard. In fact there are stories that he would occasionally cross dress to fill whatever empty lorve he longs for. It gives me shivers to think that this weirdo is now climbing up the ranks of Promuda and wants to lead the country sometime in the future. Please google him if you are concerned.

But the most common intimate tendencies displayed at school was the one for pure, unadulterated, hot blooded fascination for the bare anotomy of a woman. This drive for promiscuios fun with a woman's perky well shaped breasts, or her firmed smooth buttocks and lazy sexy eyes was, I have to admit nurtured at school by the simple lack of exposure to things of this sort, while feeding it with the occasional illegal VHS p0rno flicks, watched with friends at home while the parents were out, skyving during school hours. It was fun, but also dangerous to feed such an obsession and groom it until it becomes a frankenstien and consumes its creator and families. As a result, a lot of my school friends have broken marriages from illicit affairs that they were guilty off, most of the time.

Having watched Bravo TV's Project Runaway, one cannot dismiss the sensuality in heidi presenting in pre natal clothes. You have to admit that even in pre natal bulges, she does look hot. News is that she and husband singer Seal are expecting kid no.3. I know a lot of babes that look sexy in pre natal state. A few years a go I had the previlage for working with a chick who was at the later stage of pregnancy. The strange thing was that the more later in pregnancy she was, the hotter this chick became. The skin became more radiant, her smile more genuine, her boobs juicier. She became so hot that I was constantly distracted with images of her showering in the bare with me after which I help her with her 'lamax' excersizes with our clothes on the floor. It was a tough time for me, as I was turned on by everything preggie. I even invited her over to my place after work a few times, but she dismissed my come on as an act of being nice to a preggie friend. I soon lost all intimate interest after she gave birth and lost her juicy boobs and radiant smile. Have pity on me for I am not a deprived fiend, but a mortal guilty of lorve for physical intimacy of the unusual kind.

I have to admit, that my most favourite heidi klum walk was the one she did for victoria secrets. There now my secret is out.









Ohh btw, did you hear about the pussy cat dolls wardrobe malfunction?

Sunday, August 20, 2006

The Day Time Stood Still for us


The summer months were always a time for short holidays and relaxing moments, for us. The long warm nites were always good for impromtu sweaty acts of passion in the shower, after which mila and I would wash ourselves, scrubbing dutifully but gently in each other's secret gardens where the grass grows and the fruits are watery and tasty. Being absorbed completely by her fine flawless skin, her warm graspy breasts, her firm volupcious curves and her sincere shy smile, i am always a sucker for her perfectly shapped bussoms. Night and tight, my hands just loved grabbing them while she soaps me under the frigid shower. The tightness of her firm buttocks hardens me all over again, like a virgin blushing away as his clothes are torn open by a lusty 40 yo widow.

But this time it is a bit different. Mila had a ring on her wedding finger. She was someone else's wife. Those fine hands that were until a minute ago, gently soaping my 'trunk', were probably soaping somebody else's 'oak' a week ago. Those red lips that were kissing mine, where probably kissing some other lips a week ago. She belonged to another, and although her body was mine to taste, to kiss and to enjoy, her heart, mind and soul sadly belonged to another. For another fiery night, she would be mine once again, where she would remember her husband no more. At least for these 40 minutes we were together.

Ironic as it may seem, Mila didn't mind being shared as long as this little secret of ours remained hidden from her husband and child. I was initially disgusted, angry and dissapointed, but her reddish hardened nipples and the way they tack and re-harden when i took her top off, made me forget the sins for 'taking' a married woman through her g-string undies and making her scream my name while curling a satisfying smile as I mouth her nipples while holding on to her firm buttocks. I knew of the sin, and am sure she knew of it too. But care? I don't think she did.

About 6 years ago due to inconcilable differences, we wished each other luck and parted to our own seperate ways. She was strong headed and determined to show me that life was still a big party without me in it. She had countless romances with men she thought she loved and thought loved her, over the years her friends tell me that she never found love, nor did love find her.

Her friends remained my friends, despite the breakup and continued to update me on who she was seeing and her state of mind from time to time. Not that I really cared, but it was good to hear news of her I admit. I kept telling them that I cherished my time with her and cared for her still, but love was no longer there. I was confident that she felt the same. Then sometime in the month of october 2003, news came to me that she had gotten married to a man with substantial wealth. She was never a sucker for money and I felt good that she was moving to a more stable life with marriage and commitments. I felt good and was told she did too.

Then in 2005 in the early morning of June, I bumped into her in an elevator in the Amanah Capital building in town. She looked as radiant as ever. Her hair was nicely done, her cheeks red from either too much estee lauder or pure happiness. She wore a tight but decent business suit that revealed her tight bum and athletic breasts through the 2 unbuttoned opening to the shirt she was wearing with her business suit. While we were together, she always had the habbit of not wearing a bra and prefered her smallish boobs to hang naked which sometimes made her nipples erect and show through her top, which she found rather fashionably sexy. Just thingking about how her naked boobs used to hang, almost made me cup for them as she readjusted her top after noticing my eyes transfixed on them. "Please ... I'm a married woman now remember" she laughingly told me off as I momentarily took my eyes off her twins for a brief moment. I kept reminding myself that it was almost 6 years ago.

She still had a good figure after 1 child and we briefly chatted as the elevator took me up to the 29th floor. By the 12th floor, everybody had exited the express lift leaving just the both of us all the way up to the 29th and 37th floor respectively. Talking to her in the elevator made me want to kiss her like before, stroke her in her private places again and hear her say how much she wanted more of it. Sweet memories came gushing back as I eyeballed her lips and eyes. She had noticed my smile and sensed my excitement, as she had always done before. As we reached the 29th floor, I concluded the conversation and we both hugged before parting. By then I was quite hard and made no attempt at hiding it as our bodies embraced for the hug. She laughed and shrugged me between the legs saying that it was 'just like old times'. I laughed back but struggled to keep my composure and lust for her naked hips underneath those exspensive clothes she wore. She gave me her number and I promised to call, before I exited the elevator and its steel doors clamped close and cut off my view of the tight, firm butted volupcious woman in the elevator whom I grew very fond of seeing naked and running my fingers over every single day, almost six years ago.

I called her the next day and we chatted on the phone. She told me about her husband and how good of a person he was. I joked and asked her about the bedroom dept and she casually told me he excelled in that too. We laughed and after about 10mins, she excused herself and said that she needed to go to the gym that evening. With so many other things I wanted to update her after these 6 years, I offered to take her out for a drink after her gym session so that we could continue chatting about old times. She agreed and we confirmed on the time and place, which was a mamak stall in the nearby area. It felt like meeting an old friend again, one that you hadn't seen for 6 years. I was happy and I was sure she was as well.

At 7pm I swung my car around the corner of the street at where her gym was at and there she was in her tight butt hugging shorts and gucci gym bag. I brought the car to a halt next to her and invited her to jump in. She quickly jumped in and mentioned that it wasn't 'manis' to be seen with ex-bf while her husband is at home. We greeted each other with a kiss but her firm bum showing through her shorts and her toned legs somehow got the better of me and resulted in me kissing her on the lips, instead of her cheeks. Strangely she didn't fight it and within a few seconds we ended up snogging like teenagers. I immediately stopped the car on the side of the street and luckily the there weren't any street lamps to bother the snog. Shifting forcibly to the passenger seat where she was seated, I pressed by mouth into hers and let my tongue wonder deep into her mouth. I could see her eyes roll half shut and the trance of ecstasy that she was in, like from years before. I read her well, just like she liked to be read ... over and over again. One thing led to another and my hands forced themselves into her hot gym pants in a split second down to her wet knickers.

I must have passed out then, after which I woke up and noticed that I was totaly unclothed in my bed, with mila by my side and her gym pants on the floor. Exactly how it was like, 6 years ago. As if nothing had changed since then. Did time really stand still for us? I may never know will I?