What Makes One Happy?

2017 Chevrolet Camaro

What Makes One Happy?

Miss MollyI don’t know about you, but I can tell you about me. First off, I group my happiness into two categories, short-term and long-term.

My latest bit of short-term happiness comes from my car. It is a 2017 Camaro 2LT/RS with a few other goodies to go with it. She wears a Hyper Blue Metallic dress over a hot leather interior. Yes, that’s her in the picture. Beautiful, isn’t she?

I named it Miss Molly after the song ‘Devil with a Blue Dress On’ covered by Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels. With six on the floor and on-the-fly modifiable performance modes, she’s a dream to drive and lots of fun to ride.

Devil In Blue DressBTW, I’ve named all my cars over the years with female names, the previous being ‘Alice,’ (nod to Elton John’s ‘All the Girls Love Alice’) a 2014 red Camaro built with similar accoutrements. Over the years, I have had or driven several Camaros and I first fell in love with the car when I bought my very first one. It was a 1974 antique white Camaro Type LT with all the trimmings, including a spoiler, and a dark saddle tan interior. I paid $5,204 for it brand new, right off the showroom floor. Too bad they still don’t go for that kind of money. Her name was Valerie and I’m not going to tell you why, though I bet you can guess why.

As for Miss Molly, I love sliding into her and giving her a ride.

However, I am most interested in writing about what makes me happy in the long-term. In no particular order, they are:

  1. Alone time for painting, drawing, and writing.
  2. Naked female bodies, or as I otherwise say, lover of the female form.
  3. An extraordinary woman to share our combined interests.

Fortunately, I am at a stage in my life where I enjoy all three, which I suppose makes me elated and lucky. I feel that I am, but why do I always want more?

Let’s start with number two in the list. I first learned of my fascination with girls and their bodies back in seventh grade. That would make me about eleven at the time. It was completely unknown to me, but I now know that it was at this stage in my life where I started changing my attitudes towards girls. Of course, at that time, I didn’t understand it. A year later in eighth grade, our teacher arranged our classroom desks in a circle. A girl (Theresa), who sat across from me, would sit with her knees spread wide so that I could see right up under her dress and study the panties covering her privates. I was fascinated, yet young and very, very stupid. Thankfully, I never made a move back then. I think it was also the year that I discovered my father’s stash of nudie’s in the basement where my mother would never find them. From that moment on, I was hooked.

A year later, as a freshman in high-school, and still underage, I perused the magazine stands, trying to work up the courage to buy my first Playboy magazine. I stood there for over an hour before the proprietor of the place asked me “Well, are you going to buy something?” I chickened out and instead, bought my first book on how to sketch the human female body. This was just as good I thought and used it more to master the art of masturbation than to study and learn to draw them. Of course, by this time, I had been practicing masturbation for over two years, but now I had something in hand (forgive the pun) to refine the art. Even to this day, I frequently enjoy it. Perhaps that is why my urologist tells me that I have a perfect prostate. Does daily practice really make perfect in this case?

As the time inevitably drove on, I found myself hooked on studying a woman’s body. I amassed quite a collection of ‘girlie’ magazines, preferring the more tasteful ones over the increasing market of tasteless ones. With the advent of the internet and the freely accessible store of images, I eventually dropped all my subscriptions, which I presume many other men did as well, which in turn started the slide of the modern paper-based ‘girlie’ magazine.

Female FormMy love of a woman’s body has never once wavered in the decades since. In fact, it’s only grown. No matter what the shape, style, or wrappings, I love them all. I have my favorites of course and I absolutely hate the basketballs that some women insert into their bodies. I like them real, natural, and responsive. I even started reading medical textbooks and other similar books meant to instruct rather than titillate. I learned a lot about the female body and how it works. Even to this day, I strive to learn more about them. I want to find out how they work, inside and out.

As a result, I discovered the mechanics involved with foreplay, the female orgasm, and the after care. Over the years, I practiced with various partners and when I wasn’t in a committed relationship, with several at a time. They taught and I learned. Each taught me more than any book learning could ever have, though I do feel that the books helped make for an easier experience in and out of bed.

Still, I find myself unsatiated. My fascination with a woman’s naked body grows exponentially. I want more and I want to continue studying and practicing the art. And, this is very important, I know with whom I want to share this fascination and experience the joys that come with exploring the human body.

That would be, of course, the love of my life, my girlfriend and life-partner. No, they’re not three different girls, they’re all the same girl, all wrapped up in one fabulous package. I don’t believe I can handle more than one at a time. Too exhausting as she would say. We’ve been together for thirteen years this coming May. I have learned a lot about how her mind and body works. Although … I know that I don’t know it all. I know I am missing much that I cannot learn by reading books, looking at porn, or studying medical manuals. I desire and intend to rectify that with lots of practice. Perhaps within the next thirteen years, I will become satisfied.

However, to tell you the truth, I hope I do not. I have always had an insatiable desire to learn and grow. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lose that desire. I will always want to learn more about what makes her tick. It’s a real shame that I am growing older, and my body doesn’t work as it once did in my teens and early twenties. If only I knew then what I know now, how much more would I be able to learn? And oh, how I would practice. Afterall, doesn’t practice makes perfect?

Next time, I will expound upon my need for drawing, painting, and writing. Lastly, I will write about my need to share life and experiences with an extraordinary woman.

In the meantime, have a great day and a better tomorrow, perhaps in bed with your favorite partner(s).

Word of the Day: hoick

Hoicking up the dress
Hoicking up the dress
Source: webphoto.co

Work of the Day: hoick

Hoick: (verb) HOIK

Definition

: to move or pull abruptly : yank

Synonyms

buck, hitch, jerk, jolt, twitch, yank, hike

Examples

“to move or cause to move with a sharp quick motion” <hoicked up his pants and hastily waded into the water>

“Occasionally he hoicks up the waistband of his trousers when he thinks no one is looking.” — Elizabeth Day, The Observer, 24 Feb. 2015

“The flutist … looks forward, unfolding a retinue of futuristic techniques—sounds that purr like a cat, pop like a cork or hoick like a spitball—on the way to a final improvisation….” — David Allen, The New York Times, 29 Mar. 2016

Did You Know?

Etymologists suspect that hoick is an alteration of the verb hike, which is itself akin to hitch. According to the evidence, hike entered the language during the first decade of the 19th century, whereas hoick appeared near that century’s close. The word hoick can be used for any type of abrupt pulling movement but is commonly used for the sudden pulling back on the joystick of an airplane; a rough, jerky movement when rowing; and a jerky, elevated shot in cricket. In fox hunting, the word hoicks is used to call attention to a hound that has picked up the scent and to bring the pack together.

Hiking up her dress
Source: webphoto.co

My Take

Hoick is an interesting word. To yank, to pull up, to hike up, to pull abruptly are just some of the synonyms for the word. I like it.

Especially when applied to pulling up trousers, hiking up one’s dress or adjusting one’s bra. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a woman absent-mindedly pull up on her bra straps because her breasts were pulling hard on the cups, forcing the bra-strap to ride her her back. I’ve never commented when it happens, yet I’m strangely drawn to watching her do it. It is over in a blink of an eye, but I smile inside never-the-less. I do the same to adjust the boys when they get jammed between my legs. It’s uncomfortable if not painful. So, I understand ladies. I do.

lilly-w-hoick
Source: investinyourchest.co.uk

In researching this word, I did not know that it is also the proper name for many people as well as a band and it’s heavily used in the game of cricket.

When I think about it, it is a word I can use in my books. Already, several scenarios are evolving in my mind in thinking about the Mona Bendarova Stories. In book two ‘Broken Steele,’ I might have utilized it when Jewel competed in her first dance competition. Of course, I published that book last year, so I can’t. However, dance competitions are common in these stories, so look for it in future stories. By the way, spoiler alert, Jewel ties for first place.

Please share your comments. I’m sure we would all enjoy reading them.

mw_logoBrought to you by Merrian-Webster, Word of the Day.

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Word of the Day: Lavation

Women's pool I-Galtaji
Women's pool I-Galtaji
Source: www.carlvolpephoto.com

Word of the Day: Lavation

Lavation (noun) lay-VAY-shun

Definition

: the act or an instance of washing or cleansing

Examples

“… we cannot keep the skin healthy without frequent lavations of the whole body in pure water. It is impossible to calculate the benefits of this simple practice.” — Walt Whitman, “Bathing, Cleanliness, Personal Beauty,” June 1846

“In Maycomb County, it was easy to tell when someone bathed regularly, as opposed to yearly lavations….” — Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird, 1960

Did You Know?

It sounds logical that you would perform a lavation in a lavatory, doesn’t it? And it is logical: both words come from Latin lavare, meaning, appropriately, “to wash.” English picked up a few other words from this root as well. In medicine, the therapeutic washing out of an organ is lavage. There is also lavabo (in Latin, literally, “I shall wash”), which in English can refer to a ceremony at Mass in which the celebrant washes his hands, to the basin used in this religious ceremony, or to other kinds of basins. Even the word lavish, via a Middle French word for a downpour of rain, comes to us from lavare.

My Take

Wow, another new word for me, one that I don’t think I have ever come across before. I must admit, when I first saw it, I did a double take. While the letters L‑A‑V‑A‑T‑I‑O‑N were on the screen, my mind processed L‑A‑C‑A‑T‑I‑O‑N or lactation. Instantly, transported to my favorite human body part, it took a moment before I realized the error. I guess it’s time I do a through lavation of my dirty mind– or not. 😛

Please share your comments. I’m sure we would all enjoy reading them.

mw_logoBrought to you by Merrian-Webster, Word of the Day.

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