Re: The Music Lovers
 

You can always multi-task mah :p

Re: The Music Lovers
 

It is only as the sun begins to fade from view, the gates of the city slowly shut, and darkness creeps across the land... that the oldest and most powerful of our immortal kind emerge from their hidden palaces... :D

Thanks for your support gentlemen :D

Re: The Music Lovers
 

VIII.

"What?" she looked at me expectantly.

I didn't say anything for a moment, imaginging in my head already what would happen if this went completely the wrong way.

"What? What were you going to say?" she asked again, putting her arms around me.

"Sarah baby... you know it's getting late. And you know I'll see you tomorrow for sure. Every moment I have, I would spend with you." I stalled.

"But you don't want to stay with me tonight? I'm not getting you." she started to look genuinely cross.

"It's not that." I held both of her shoulders gently. "It's more like... to the objective observer, this guy who brings you to some dark corner of the planet to spend the night with you (I gestured inverted commas with my fingers) after just four days, will hardly have an easy time explaining how he had your best interests, or the noblest intentions, at heart. You get what I mean?" Wow. Now I sounded like a lawyer and a Catholic priest rolled into one, I thought to myself.

She gave me a weary smile. "I know what you mean dear, but... I don't think... I can get through this night without you... and I don't exactly look forward to going to school tomorrow either. Anyway just where do you intend to take me?"

I sighed. "Ok look, my family and I just moved to stay with a relative because we're selling our old place to clear some debts. The deal's been closed for about a week already, but I'm guessing the new owners couldn't have possibly moved in yet. And the old keys are still here with me." I started to turn away as the demons in my head began arguing heatedly again.

"Hey... hey... look at me, look at me." She grasped my temples, forcing my gaze back in her direction. "I know where you're coming from. And I don't care." she said with a gravity which radiated from her eyes. "Baby... you're all I have. That's all I know." she said in a pained voice.

"I want you." she said as she buried her head in my shoulder. She started to tear.

"Hey... ok, ok, I understand. I'm sorry if I upset you." I said apologetically. It tore me up seeing her like this.

"Haha... no, I'm not upset with you." she said with a little laugh as she wiped her eyes. "It's just that... I don't want tonight to end so soon. I don't want it to be taken away from me, like my family... and like my music would have been, if it weren't for you. Hah... is it because I'm being greedy?"

"Ok baby, you've made your point. God knows, I really don't want to say goodbye to you tonight either. But I never want to do anything that would hurt you alright? You remember that ok, girl."

"You're really... all that I hoped for, and more than I could ever imagine. You know that?" she said as she clung on to me.

"Girl, you're making my knees knock and my legs wobble, haha. Come on, let's go." I said as I hooked my arm around her waist, and we walked off in a different direction...


***********


"Well, this is it." I said as we arrived at my former residence. "I would ask you to make yourself at home, except that I can't, haha."

"It's a nice place - " she gazed out over the edge of the balcony as we stepped across the living room. " - with a pretty good view too."

"Was." I said as I hugged her from behind. "Full moon's out tonight man. What do you make of that, huh." She leaned her head back and held onto my arms.

"I think it means you're supposed to start howling now, ahahaha" she said while laughing.

"You wouldn't like that baby... cause I'd have to change into my wolf form first, and then eat you alive like the bloodthirst beast I am." I said with a big grin across my face.

"Eat me alive, huh. We'll just have to see how vicious a bite you have then, don't we?" she kissed me deeply.

Litres upon litres of blood in my veins were circulating with increasing frequency at places other than my brains and upper body. There we stood on the moonlit balcony in our tight embrace... like two clinching boxers, except we weren't struggling to escape it; quite the opposite, rather. We kissed again and again, like a malfunctioning CD player on automatic repeat mode, which I imagined could only be playing that guitar solo from 'Say Anything'. Rays of moonlight reflected gently off her porcelain-skinned forhead, making the barely visible beads of sweat forming there to glimmer a faintly luminescent blue. Or was it just my mind playing tricks on me? She was like the most beautifully crafted Ming dynasty vase I had ever set eyes on. And as the wind blew past us, the dark long tendrils of her hair coiled around her like jealous black dragons, eyeing me with hostility as they warily observed my approach towards their princess' palace.

"Let's go inside, it's getting a little chilly." she said after a while. "Is there anything to... sit on?"

"I thought you'd never ask." I said with a big smile.

"What's so funny? How come you're smiling like that?" she asked in anticipation.

"Well, I have sort of a small surprise for you, although it's not exactly a present. Come with me." I led her into what used to be my bedroom. It was all empty now except for one item. Sitting quietly in the darkness, graced with a fine layer of dust, was what used to be my Piano; the modest black beauty that I had practiced on since I was a child, for more than a decade. It wasn't the most expensive kind you could buy off the shelf of course, but it had served me loyally and without complaint for so long. Now it had to go, along with the house, for what it was worth. Circumstances can really be a bitch, I guess. Sarah immediately made for the bench with a muffled squeal of delight and opened the lid.

"Hey! Shh.. keep it down or they neighbours'll be thinking there're housebreakers here!" I hissed with a laugh.

"Oh... ya you're right!" she whispered back, as she stepped downwards with her foot and locked the damper pedal in place. "There that's better."

She played around with the keys for a while, but eventually returned to my embrace as we sat side by side in front of the keyboard.

"I wish this was our little apartment... where there would be nobody but us... where we wouldn't have to worry about people seeing us, or saying things about us." she said contemplatively. "It's such a simple idea isn't it? But yet almost impossible to realise... at least not just like that. Tragic." she was about to tear again.

"Hey, hey... don't fret." I said as I lifted her onto my lap. I snaked my arms around her and placed my hands on the keyboard, as she looked on in curiousity. "I can't really do this that well... 'cause I'm a player more than a singer, let alone both... but - " I wiggled a little under her weight to ease the massive traffic jam of blood that was convening at my waist.

"... I have a song for you."

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Intermission time...

It's becoming increasingly difficult to continue this story... all these old memories are starting to make me nauseous. But what the hell... keeping baggage is worse I guess.

Elton John - Your Song (Live, 1970)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

IX.

"If I was a sculptor, but then again... no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show.
I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you.

...

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do...
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue.
Anyway, the thing is... what I really mean...
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.

And you can tell everybody this is your song;
It may be quite simple but, now that it's done;
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind,
That I put down in words,
How wonderful life is while you're in the world."

The most satisfied smile I had ever seen was sprawled all over Sarah's face as my fingers keyed the last notes. Her eyes were wet as a single tear slowly rolled down her right cheek.

"You know girl... if you keep doing this, I'm never going to play or sing when you're around in future. It always seems to achieve the exact opposite of its intended effect." I said as I wiped away the drop of saltwater from her face.

"You know I'm happy, baby." she said in a voice that trembled. Of course, there was nothing I could say.

She got up and turned around to face me, then sat astride me with her legs dangling on either side of my hips. It felt as if a steaming hot iron had been pressed against my crotch. Her breath grew heavy, her eyes half closed, giving me a smoky stare that put the fear of god in my bones. My manhood began to angrily bulldoze its way past folds of clothing to make space for itself; I began to feel an annoying sensation as its rearing head finally hit the hard metal line that was my zipper. It would have probably been painful if not for the intervening underclothing.

"Mmm..." she said, exhaling slowly. She looked at me with a madness in her eyes that signalled the accelerated exit of rational judgement from her mind. "I can feel it."

"Feel what exactly, girl?" I said, under my breath. "The weather?"

She smiled suggestively. "This naughty little boy here." she whispered softly.

Her left palm grasped hard at the bulge in my pants. I had no idea when the invasive appendage had arrived in that region. Maybe it was too dark. She had broken out in a very light sweat, and that feminine musk was making its way through my nostrils; it filled my nasal cavity with its fumes, from there shooting straight into my brain where it started to paint multi-coloured stars and flashing lights. She looked down at the chaotic scene below, toying with the tip of the bulge with her finger tips.

"Does this mean he finds me attractive?" She said with a smile, as she looked up at me again.

"Girl, you have no idea." I replied, moving my hands up her sides, cupping the bottom edge of her bra through her clothes with the thumb and index finger of both my hands. I moved my face close to hers and kissed her forehead, rotating my thumbs upwards until they were centred on the foremost points on her bust, and gently pressed inwards. She shuddered ever so slightly, and instinctively inverted her hand in order to grab my crotch fully, squeezing it hard as she kissed me.

I slipped my hands under her tank top, stroking her belly and her sides, gradually moving up and indicating that I wanted to remove it; she released her grip on me to raise her arms above her head. With that obstacle gone, I pulled her closed to me, stroking her back with my finger tips. After several trips up and down her spine, my hands came to a stop at the rear lateral strap of her bra, pausing for a moment.

"Help me take it off, baby," she said. I unhooked the tiny plastic fasteners that held the device together, and the shoulder straps fell slowly to the sides of her arms. I sensed a feeling of liberation emanating from her as I placed it on the keyboard.

I was accosted by the sight of a pair of lovely, pear-shaped breasts, their soft contours gradually gathering in that perfect feminine curve towards the tips of two swollen, pointed nipples. Like two indignant maroon eyes they glared at me expectantly, watching for my next move. I obligingly cupped them with my palms from their sides, stroking them in a circular motion inwards and brushing against their firmly erect tips. She quivered with pleasure.

"They're... beautiful." I said with not a little awe.

"No... you are." she replied with a very serious-looking smirk; conveying, without any room for debate, her intention to take over now. The significance of her little play of words was not lost on me.

She lifted my shirt up over my head, her fingernails delicately grazing my skin, and threw it on the ground beside us.

"Hey. The floor is dirty." I said in mock antagonism.

"Objection overruled, baby." she replied without so much as batting an eyelid.

She wiggled in closer towards me. as her mouth met mine for the umpteenth time that night, she twisted her torso left and right repeatedly with slow deliberation, sending a maddening jolt of pleasure through my nerves. She dug her fingernails into my back as that same pleasure I was experiencimg mirrored back onto her. After some time struggling in this manner, I gently pushed her away from me, just so that I could look at her and that lovely bare torso again. Amused with my oggling, she placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head slightly to one side, looking me back in the eye and flicking her long black hair back in one smooth motion, letting it fall to one side of her face. She thrust her chest ever so slightly forward, accentuating her curves, and took a long, slow breath.

"Be my guest." she said a little shyly, closing her eyes.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Incredible story, Komuso! You write so well.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Thanks girl... geez I didn't think anyone was still following this thread... was thinking of resuming the story but just can't get down to doing it... still got some baggage to clear I guess

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Simi baggage?
Except for your weekly drinking sexxion :eek::rolleyes:

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Haha emotional baggage from a decade ago lah bro... you know women can make us men do crazy things sometimes :D And the weekly session disbanded for now... too much drama lah. Maybe nx time will resume.

And ZOMG thanks for the points, to those who upped me... I'll try to return the favour the day I get my first pathetic point of power!

Re: The Music Lovers
 

I only make women go crazy, it cannot be the other way round :D

Drama?
Guess i've been missing much while in the NZ land.
Have a great day buddy, till we meet again ;)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

I like how everything is nice slow n steady here... Keep it up

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Thanks all for the compliments; I hope my story so far has had a salutary effect... well in terms of reading material, if nothing else.

Anyway, after much mulling in the mind and dragging of the feet, I am pleased to present:


X.

A run of the mill discussion about a the quality of a woman's breasts among men often goes the way of size, with a somewhat passing interest in the colour of the nipples. It is also often the case that gentlemen of a self-professedly greater level of sophistication who argue that size doesn't really matter are more interested in some other aspect of the lady in question, rather than her breasts per se. While that sentiment may be admirable, it does after all detract from the original question about what should be considered the measure of beauty when it comes to breasts.

I prefer to take a different, somewhat more mathematical approach to the topic.

The fundamental basis on which a woman's body appears attractive to a heterosexual man is first and foremost how physically different it is, in terms of shape, from his own. With the exception of a necessary degree of organic roundness appearing at the various corners and edges of a man's body frame, it is by and large a mass of hard, straight lines (assuming an ideal physique). Directly opposing this, is the most geometrically prominent feature of a woman's body: the curve.

We've all probably learnt some time along the way in math class that a straight line is defined as an infinite series of dots joined together, with no change in direction or angle. Any such change and you'd end up with a sharp corner. A curve on the other hand, is rather special - a constant change in gradient takes place an infinite number of times. In the case of the curves outlining a woman's body, it further requires carefully placed sections of uneven increase and decrease building up from the base of the curve, all the way to the apex, and then coming back using a completely different formula. And all this in 3, not 2, dimensions.

In my opinion, the breasts of an average looking female will always be at least reasonably attractive. The truly beautiful ones however, are blessed with amazing curve formulations that are simply beyond math... or words for that matter.


...


As moonlight passing through a window reflected gently off Sarah's breasts, I continued to marvel at the aggressive curves which placed them among the more pointed variety - defined by a sharply declining upper curve and a gradual, longer than average bottom curve. I held them carefully in my hands; stroking them repeatedly with my fingertips, grasping them with my palms, tracing circles around the dark red areolas with my thumbs. She breathed with increasing heaviness, finally giving way to a moan. The grip of her hands on my shoulders tightened violently, probably indicating that she was running out of patience. I bent down obligingly and laid several kisses on her heaving chest, finally centering on the nipples themselves; sucking and biting on them softly. The moaning grew louder, and her right hand moved downwards with blinding (well it was quite dark, after all) speed to grip my crotch. Her fingers started to fiddle with the zipper on my pants with increasing frustration - the folds of clothing had bunched up quite a bit due to the sudden change in... volume down there.

"Whoa take it easy baby... don't you remember what The Carpenters said? We've only just begun. You'll chip your nails." I said with a smile.

It wasn't returned however. What I got instead was a half-lidded glare from her eyes which looked a little frightening, particularly in the dim light. In fact, it would be hard to explain how it was any different from the eyes of a serial killer about to tear a victim apart. Not wanting to frustrate her further in these circumstances, I lifted her up by the underarms so that I could get up and straighten my pants, and placed her back on the piano bench. She stood right back up, one hand pulling me down by the neck for a slippery kiss, with another deftly unfastening the buckle at the side of her skirt. She had a pair of simple white cotton panties on, which were soft to the touch and (admittedly) very much to my liking; they were also rather damp in a certain area... which was now brushing against my thigh.

She released me to drop down to the level of my waist, both hands bent on accomplishing what they failed to do earlier. In an agitated manner bordering on possession, she pulled down what clothing remained on my lower body and stared intently at the object of her desire; still swinging slightly like some kind of pendulum after being forcibly sprung from my briefs. With a confident look, she brought it to a stop with one long index finger, and slowly ran her nail down its now very hard stem. "Shhhh...." she said, talking to it as if it was her pet; as if leaving me out of the picture while having her little private one-way conversation. Slowly placing her nose on its tip, she took a long drag and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes, and then repeated what she did with her fingernail earlier with her nose now. It was quite a sight to behold, frankly - like some kind of primordial phallic worship rite performed by an Aztec high priestess. I could feel the searing hotness of her breath all over my exposed flesh.

"Oh god..." I conceded.

She grasped the bottom of my shaft and looked into my eyes once... right before plunging almost the entire organ into her mouth. The sensations down there were reported to my head faster than the speed of light, and I was soon seeing stars or perhaps experiencing what it was like to have a mild stroke as the blood flow to my brain started to drop. The strokes of her tongue were intense, determined, and set for maximum friction. My abdominals began to contract intensely as I registered all the pleasure she was giving me. All this while she hadn't said a word since I had removed her blouse, which was what, 20 minutes ago? She was apparently lost in her own world together with my... hardened thing. Her head bobbed up and down in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity before she finally broke loose and spoke.

"Let's go to the sofa." she said brusquely.

The tone of her voice was not conversational. It merely translated the bioelectric orders issuing from her brain into sound waves - and that brain was probably being influenced not a little by a whole other array of bioelectric signals emanating from somewhere between her legs like an alarm klaxon. So she started to lead me to the sofa like she had lived in this house longer than me; but I held fast to her hand, which was clasped in mine. I spun her around and placed her arms around my neck as she looked at me wide-eyed, jolted from the rhythm of her plans.

"Not so fast." I replied in an equally brusque manner, lifting her up by the waist and bending down to hook my right arm behind her knees. That accomplished, I lifted her clear of the floor, causing her to squeal with a mild panic. The look in her eyes was priceless - amusing and arousing at the same time :D She stared at me, desperately searching my face for some indication of what was coming next.


"Where are you hurrying to?" I whispered.

"You will see

the same moon tonight

wherever you go."


...

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Thank you so much for the update I was longing for, virtuoso!

-curls up at your feet waiting patiently for the next installment-

At first, I thought that salutary was a pun on marikita, haha. I like your extensive reflection on breasts and what makes them breasts.. and that size isn't everything :)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Well I would say 'salutary' refers to any healthy, positive effects that result from reading this story... so uh... marikitas wouldn't be excluded either :D

Thanks for following anyhow; I'll try not to drag it on for too long... but bad habits tend to persist unfortunately :o

Re: The Music Lovers
 

My thanks to the gentleman who recently upped me... never thought I'd see the day I'd get a point around here :eek: Didn't leave your name card though.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

a good story is deserving of recognition. This super soldier retiree will join in and up you when I regain my power.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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 :)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

the story transcends this forum. superb effort.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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 :D

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Thanks for supporting bro :) I hope not to disappoint as the story progresses :o


Thanks bro; yes my life was happening - more than a decade ago lah haha :D Shit, haven't seen you since our days of getting uh... abused by aggressive females :D Must meet up with you for drinks some time!

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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! :)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

----------

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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 :o

*bewildered itinerant monk scrambles for brush and ink*

:D

In this imaginary world of ours

The night is young always and

The full moon shines, ever brightly... undying

Re: The Music Lovers
 

Update?? Camping here still

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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 :o

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcVNa2h211w

Re: The Music Lovers
 

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:

1. 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.

2. 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.

3. 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?

4. 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.

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.

Re: The Music Lovers
 

No worries bro; I'm glad that you have decided to engage me on this topic. My thoughts are as follows:

1. 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.

2. 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.

3. 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.

4. 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 :D

5. 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 :)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

FHM: give and take a few definitions, i believe we've reached a reasonable compromise :D

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. :)

Re: The Music Lovers
 

My thanks again for the up; XII. shall follow as soon as time permits.

I remain,

虚無僧