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).

Imagination leads to creativity

Vivid Imagination

I read this quote on imagination the other day on social media. Though I’m sure I don’t have it exact, word for word, I know that this is the sentiment.

“I don’t subscribe to the stuff I write about. I just have a vivid imagination.”

This statement rings clearly in my psyche. The sentiment allows me to explain to people about the stories I capture in my writings and in my artwork. In short, it describes me in a very succinct way. I believe it fits me to a tee.

When you read the books I write, you feel the anguish my characters feel. Sit inside the minds of the perpetrators as they deliver their punishments to their unwilling victims. Follow along inside the minds of the victims and feel their pain. Identify with the characters and cringe as they do as they suffer their unwanted brutal attacks. Cheer for the sufferer even time they achieve a victory against their attacker.

Imagination 38931463 - open door to another reality, abstract ethereal backgroundsWhile I wrote these stories, that is true, picturing myself as the perpetrator is disturbing to me. Violence against any living being, human or otherwise, I find as abhorrent. I cannot imagine me actually doing the violence I write about. Frankly, it turns my stomach. I can’t imagine myself forcibly raping another person, man or woman. It is unimaginable to view myself as a boxer, fighter, soldier or whatever. I just can’t see it. I don’t consider myself a pacifist, I simply abhor the notion of violence against another.

Why is it then that I enjoy movies that portray acts of violence? Why are my favorite video games fraught with hunting down, attacking and killing other characters? I saw a movie the other day, entitled ‘Vice’ starring Bruce Willis. I had never heard of it before. I never saw trailers or other promotions for it. I simply saw it on my online guide and watched it.

While I enjoyed it, I cursed it at the same time. The premise of the movie was one I have been developing on my own to wrap many of my storylines into a single volume. Shit! So now, I can’t use that one anymore. It would have been perfect. But, I digress.

Garters Thigh High Stockings vectorOther people have trouble seeing the conflict in my mind. Most say, “If I can write it, I must be able to do it.” It’s also been suggested that “If I can write it, I must be a misogynist.” While I understand how people make that leap, I don’t agree with it. I simply have an active imagination which I choose to document.

Besides, not all of my imaginative visions are violent. Many are loving, touching scenes of people who are deeply into each other. Others are sexy, usually graphic scenes of the greatest gift Mother Nature could have given the human race. That, of course, is SEX. In case you haven’t noticed. I love sex. I love the beauty I see in mature adult women’s bodies. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how big or small, or whether they are tall or short. The mature, naked female body, in my opinion, is the best gift God or Mother Nature gave us.

Unfortunately, these other scenes running through my imagination are already being written by thousands of other authors. From what I can tell, they sell well enough. If I want my writings to support my lifestyle, perhaps I should write my own.

Sorry but I don’t want to regurgitate the same thing that others are already doing. I want to write unique stories that no one else is writing. Just as I love seeing women who are different from most, who wear asymmetrical clothing, custom jewelry, interesting piercings, gorgeous tattoos and other adornments that are uncommon and individual, I like the idea of writing fresh stories that are unique and different. 

What I find most fascinating is the more violent the story, the more graphic and brutal it is, the better it sells. WTF? I recognize that either you like the stories or you don’t. There is no middle ground. I’m okay with that. I’m just thankful for the thousands out there that do like and buy the stories.

Whether you believe me or not, I don’t subscribe, support and live this behavior. It is the product of my vivid imagination. Those closest to me, my friends, family, and lover know the truth. In reality, I’m a pussy. Just don’t try to stop me. That’s when my fangs come out.

In the meantime, as long as people buy it, I’ll continue to write it.

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Care to comment? Please do. I always love reading what others have to say.