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Women can be said to moan, whereas men are said to grunt, with pleasure. Moaning can be said to be a vocal emission strongly related to wailing or crying, except that the trigger is a positive rather than negative. It can be said to translate into a ’non-linguistic’ admission of vulnerability.
-
While considering the fact that rough sex is sometimes a preference, there still persists a general maxim of being ‘gentle’ with a woman. Or, that there is widespread preference by women to be treated ‘gently’ and as a result ‘with respect’. It is possible, in most although not all cases, that a man can subdue a woman with brute physical force. In this capacity, a man can, if he desires it, cause a woman to suffer physical trauma very effectively since she is unable to defend against his assault for very long. However this is anything but gentle, and anything but respectful, and anything but the way a woman would prefer to be treated. A man who abuses this feminine disadvantage in physical strength is considered to have neither a sense of self-control nor any moral decency.
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Heterosexual women by and large are understood to prefer to have sexual relations with men who are perceived as physically ‘strong’, and by default of course that has to be taken to specifically mean physically ‘stronger’ than them. How else, after all, can such men be expected to defend them against, and necessarily match the strength of, other unwelcome males who may intend to take them by force?
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The concepts of ‘manliness’, ‘chivalry’ and being a ‘gentleman’, while nowadays academically considered stereotypical, can still be said to be held by most females as ideal characteristics of a desirable male. This necessasarily implies a vulnerability on the part of the female counterpart of such a male, which these ideal characteristics are said to complement.
My thanks to the gentleman who recently upped me… never thought I’d see the day I’d get a point around here
Didn’t leave your name card though.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
captainamerica
a good story is deserving of recognition. This super soldier retiree will join in and up you when I regain my power.
Thank you, sir; your appreciation for this little thread however, is still valued more than any number of points I may garner as a consequence
Quote:
Originally Posted by
ginseng
the story transcends this forum. superb effort.
Thanks for supporting bro
I hope not to disappoint as the story progresses
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Astroboy77
Brother Komuso, I know you are good in singing and powerful in English since the first time i meet you. However didnt know u got such a happening life !!!… Keep the story going hor.. write more.. I am going to keep track of ur story ya….cheers
Thanks bro; yes my life
was
happening - more than a decade ago lah haha
Shit, haven’t seen you since our days of getting uh… abused by aggressive females
Must meet up with you for drinks some time!
Why thank you, madam; you flatter me, haha. I’m glad you’ve like the story thus far… I guess I should start producing results soon or risk pissing off all the kind people who have left their compliments and points here… gulp
*bewildered itinerant monk scrambles for brush and ink*
In this imaginary world of ours
Quote:
Originally Posted by
orchideous
I had the privilege of listening to “Your Song” as featured in this story, sung by the man himself at one gathering. Komuso has a fine singing voice indeed!
Please don’t keep us in suspense, I’m sure some of us are dying to read a little more, when you’re in the mood to write.
From your ardent fan!
XI.
She gave me a weary smile and stroked my face, obediently curling up tighter so that it would be easier for me to travel the next couple of metres to the living room. I padded over to the old sofa slowly, pretending not to huff and puff as my arm muscles felt the strain of her body mass being pulled down by gravity. She wasn’t overweight by any means, of course. I sat her down gently, kneeling astride her, as she pulled me in with a firm grip on my shaft.
Sensing my desire for a change of pace, she began to stroke me delicately with the tips of her fingers as I continued to kiss her. It was a rather maddening torture method, I must admit, and I began to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew. Somewhat akin to being tickled to death… in a good way
With my mouth still glued firmly to hers, I groped blindly in the dark for her hand, in a vain attempt to get her to close her grip fully and tightly on me. She let out a muffled giggle and suddenly curled her fingers in, abruptly replacing her fingertips with her nails. Well, someone was certainly having a lot of fun, I thought. The resulting sensation was comparable to electrocution, as she dragged them ever so lightly across the surface area of the skin in which my sperm bank maintained its offices. I felt my nerving endings being fried one after another as the four horsemen of her left hand galloped up and down over the bumpy, crinkled hillside down there, causing it to contract and grow tighter… as if trying to escape them. As if that weren’t enough, the digits of her right hand busied themselves laying siege to the capital, dancing around my lesser head like Mussorgsky’s frenzied witches on a bald mountain, provoking the entire muscle into twitching, in an attempt to contract even harder than it already had.
However much of my head(s) I may have lost, I still retained that last bit of sense to escape from her clutches so as to avoid ending our session in a premature burst of one-sided fireworks. I moved my hips back so as to bend down and attend to her twin peaks, which had relaxed a little from their owner’s preoccupation with other matters. She could barely restrain herself as a rather loud moan emanated from her vocal chords, and they rapidly came turgidly to attention. Her arms desperately reached out as far as they could to regain control of the toy that was barely out of her reach. I had to pin her shoulders down onto the back rest to keep her from wreaking more havoc on my groin so it could take a break for a while. With her attention focused on the sensations coming from her breasts, I decided to delegate one hand to her nether regions, where a considerable amount of wetness had quietly but rapidly been accumulating over the entire area; a mixture of her sweat and other feminine fluids. I soaked my palm in the warm, damp embrace of Venus’ mound, which was covered in moderate but delicate, wispy layer of fuzz. I toyed with the tendrils of hair, twirling them in circles; occasionally making as if I wanted to slide further down, but pulling back immediately after.
“My turn to have some fun.” I commented.
She didn’t reply, but her left hand instinctively grabbed my probing palm and tried to drag it lower, while the nails of her right one dug into my upper arm. I looked her in the eyes. So mesmerising, they were.
“Why? What’s the matter? You’re fidgeting so much.” I teased.
“You’re so cruel.” she said under her breath with a big smile.
“You’re one to talk. You know what you nearly did to me a couple of seconds ago.” I answered.
“Oh really? Was I so effective in making you lose that unbreakable self-control of yours?” she replied cheekily.
“Bringing you here was a sign that a lot of it had already been vaporised thanks to your influence.” I said in mock seriousness.
“Oh don’t say that… I -”
She was cut off by the sudden gasp of air she inhaled as I inched my fingers down a notch lower, encountering the sides of her outer lips, for the briefest moment brushing past her love bud. I deliberately avoided the highly sensitive centre line, wanting to drag it out just that bit longer.
“Baby, please… that’s enough.” she pined, trying to close up her thighs in order to force my hand into that tantalising Venus fly trap. My thumb and last finger resisted her little attempt at a cave-in.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to take on my fingers.” I said with a small laugh. She wasn’t laughing as she kissed me again. I didn’t want to push my luck too far, and accordingly closed my fingers in another notch to stroke her inner lips. They were sizable, and had a lovely shape; a pleasure to touch as I enjoyed their smooth wetness. It was also making me harder again.
“Touch me there… please.” she almost sounded like she was whimpering. Then again, perhaps she was.
My middle finger felt like it had come into contact with molten lava oozing out of an erupting volcano as I placed it right between her inner lips and traced the ridges of flesh that marked the entrance to her most intimate part. I increased the finger pressure as I used it to rub with increasing friction against it, as well as that dark pearl which had emerged from its protective hood; swollen and very much awake.
“Oh my god…” she said very softly as she began to pant. My mouth remained planted on her left nipple, with my tongue tracing circles around its tip; my teeth giving a gentle but firm squeezes intermittently. The smell of her was simply intoxicating. As my fingers worked with an accelerating pace, her hips began to move rhythmically, trying to match my strokes and make them longer, not to mention increase their friction. My mouth released its grip of her nipple after a while, and I indulged myself kissing her all over her torso, revelling in that smooth, fair skin. My left arm circled around her waist while my right hand continued its work. I figured it was probably about time.
My middle finger stopped its strokes… and entered her.
She turned to look at me, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, never looking so vulnerable before.
I hope I don’t come across as being overly dramatic, but this is what the last instalment felt like… at least as I remember it. My apologies, if it bores; musician’s habit I guess
XIa.
My apologies for a digression at this point in order to raise some points which I feel are important. At any rate, I’m hoping that readers who have had the patience to follow this thread all the way to its current stage would indulge me with a little more of the same.
I think it wouldn’t be very far off the mark to say that modern women would prefer to be seen as anything but vulnerable. After all, more or less equal opportunities in education, employment, and consequently the acquisition of wealth for members of both genders has been the case for some time. This is especially so in a city such as ours, which prizes, almost more than anything else, limitless economic advancement. It also serves as a corrective check against what has historically been a rampant male tyranny which abused women and treated them as second-rate citizens, or even slaves. Women should no longer be vulnerable, but rather be able to hold their own against the terror of the male species, whether it manifests itself in the form of a male boss at work, the neighbourhood rapist, or an abusive husband/lover.
As much as there are enough theories and reading material about gender equality to fill several libraries several times over, not a few (apparently) self-evident truths tend to make themselves felt during the unique physical activity between a man and woman that is sex. For instance:
That being said, the majority of men similarly seem to prefer having sex with a woman who is of a ‘gentle’ disposition. While a certain degree of sexual aggressiveness is attractive, such a role-reversal becomes a fetish rather than an ideal when carried out to the extreme (consider dominatrixes).
Other than the various forms of physical attractiveness, I am of the opinion that nothing is comparably more arousing than the sense of a woman’s vulnerability during sex. Firstly, her private space has been compromised since body to body contact must have already taken place; this as compared to a decent distance one would have to maintain in an ordinary public context. Secondly, the absence of clothing is inseparable from the absence of both modesty as well as inhibition. Assuming that rape is not taking place, the thought that the woman in question has voluntarily removed all of the aforementioned barriers is undeniably exhilarating for a man. Lastly, the understanding that a woman is wilfully offering her vulnerability in this purest form for a man’s enjoyment, albeit obtaining her own in the process of course, is proverbially what makes temptation hard to resist.
The measure of a man is, among other aspects, what he does when given such a degree of trust… even if the act is of a transactional nature.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
fourhorseman
Don’t mean any disrespect to TS. Just some food for thought maybe.
“Vulnerability” is a state of mind. Its not physical and have nothing to do with sex. That is the highest form a man can achieve, that his mere presence create a sense of submissiveness and vulnerability in the female.
When a man is weak, the woman wants to protect the man. This protection strengthen the woman. When a man is strong, the woman cannot help or resist the “manliness” and is put into her place.
Transaction level is about sex, not intimacy. Vulnerability is at best only on the physical level, and not on the highest level possible. Likewise for the male, the victory is flawed because its bought, not fought for. At primal level, man are hunters, the harder the hunt, the more tension there is, the better the satisfaction. This co-relation can be observed in females that exhibit shyness when clothes are off. The inhibitation are well present, and the removal of such inhibition is dependent on the degree of dominance and control the man brings with him. Any hard tough aggressive woman will be melted away and “against their will” be vulnerable to this powerful man infront of them. Warning: shaking her off will be hard to do after that.
Sorry if I overstepped any part. Pls forgive me. Pls continue your story.
No worries bro; I’m glad that you have decided to engage me on this topic. My thoughts are as follows:
I do not dispute the fact that vulnerability can be described as a state of mind; it may not be a complete definition of it, but it is certainly a fitting one. However, I feel that your statement that ‘It’s not physical and has nothing to do with sex’ is somewhat accurate. To clarify, I did not mean that vulnerability is only some kind of strictly physical condition that is triggered by the fact that sex is taking place or about to take place. I started off my argument by citing gender equality; something which is very commonplace in this day and age. My intention was to demonstrate that when good sex takesplace, one of the key things which occurs is a woman allowing herself to become vulnerable, which necessarily contradicts the idea of gender equality. While she may trust the man she is having sex with to treat her well (and he may very likely do so), in terms of strict logic the possibility of the man suddenly turning violent or overly aggressive towards her is still there. She is therefore putting herself in a position to be exploited by definition; although in reality she does that because she feels that the odds of herself being exploited are negligible based on her knowledge of the character of the man she is about to have sex with.
I take your concept of the ‘highest possible form a man can achieve’ to mean a context where, through a combination of charisma and physical attractiveness, a man can induce a psychological (and/or other) state of vulnerability in a woman. I agree with you that this is considered a nobler accomplishment when it occurs even when sex is not on the agenda. However, I feel the point is that this sensation, or phenomenon to use a stricter term, cannot be disconnected from the idea of sex. A layman verb which is frequently used to describe what the woman feels in such a context is ‘swooning’. The desire may be limited to, say, be embraced or kissed by such a man. But the question is only one of whether or not this context will be extended to its limit by culminating in sex, meaning the context is still the same - it is a sexually-based sensation which occurs in varying degrees. Do note that care must be taken to distinguish the idea of vulnerability from fear simply. A woman will not swoon but rather reel in terror (among other things) in the presence of a rapist, hence the clear difference from fear, simply.
I am not considering the idea of intimacy in the argument I presented, as it is more of a catch-all term which encompasses a wide variety of actions, emotions, and ideas involved in the context sexual relations between a man and a woman. Similarly, the idea of ‘hunting’, ‘victory’ and ’tension’ in the understanding of a man’s pursuit of a woman for sex is not part of an argument; not because I disagree with them but rather they fall outside the scope of my argument. They are however interesting topics which I certainly won’t mind discussing on another occasion. The focus of my argument as such, is that a woman must necessarily willingly enter into such a state of vulnerability when she decides to allow a man to have sex with her. By extension, whether this occurs more out of the man’s charisma or (acceptable level of) aggressive dominance, is another matter; my contention is only that this state must be present.
As for transactional sex where money is involved, it can be said that a man is paying for a woman to enter this state of vulnerability. Consider a situation where, upon hiring an FL, you meet her in the hotel room only to find her crouched in a corner hissing at you defensively, with her limbs poised to fend off your sexual advances. Bad customer service would be an understated way of describing it
Lastly, in the context of where I last stopped in my story, I felt compelled to delve into a more in-depth discussion about vulnerability because I argue that a woman is at her most attractive in that state. And again, the fact is that this goes against gender inequality.
I remain, as always, open to further discussion on this topic and others, if raised
FHM: give and take a few definitions, i believe we’ve reached a reasonable compromise
My thanks also to the person who just sent some points my way.
Thank you both for your support of this thread, and for (I believe) taking the ideas discussed here seriously.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
seowlang
TS,
have u ever considered going into the publishing industry? yr writing skills are fit for print!
Thanks for the compliment bro; I’m sure you understand however, that as a professional writer I would have to write what sells, and sells well… probably coming up with 100 barely different versions of ‘The Music Lovers’ in the process haha
Mmmm. Drank a bit too much tonight. Here’s an analogy just for fun: Jay Chou is an accomplished professional musician; classically trained too, and I respect him a lot for that. Superimpose the choruses of two of his big hits ‘Feng’ and ‘Shan Hu Hai’ however, and you’ll find that they’re recycled. Why? Because the chord progression (sorry for getting technical) sells, and sells damn fucking well, I might add
It gets worse the further you dig; and this is true for almost any pop star. I still listen to his stuff though… among other things. But then again, for all his fans out there who aren’t trained musicians… it doesn’t really matter right?