#why do the ones in the women’s section have hard thin plastic and the mens have wide nice soft leather anyway what if i. killed everyone

[profcolsymorgan]

why does it feel like so many things are made to hurt women. and by things i mean every kind of shoe

[caressaiswhere]

Umbrella ea hau e kae? (Where is your umbrella?) Much Ado At Initiation Ceremony

The first time I made a friend in my training village, the opening conversation, half in English and half in Sesotho went something like this:

Me: Hello ausi (sister). How you are you?

Local Girl: I am fine, how are you?

M: I’m great! What is your name?

LG: Tshidi Kheleku

Me: Ohhh **(tries hard to hear the name right and so I can repeat it during future interactions. ** Well, I am ausi Bonolo.

T: Yes, I know … where are you going?

M: I am going to Maputsoe to go shopping.

T: With whom?

M: Baithaopi.

T: It’s hot. Ausi Bonolo, where is your umbrella? Why do you not have it?

M: I don’t have an umbrella.

T: Would you like one for 15 Rand?

M: No thanks, I am fine. I must go or I will miss the taxi into town. Bye-Bye Ausi.

T: Bye-Bye ausi Bonolo.

 And thus, began a good acquaintanceship and the beginning of a never-ending train of people wanting to know 1) where I am going and 2) why I don’t have my umbrella.

Now that I have settled into by village in Botha-Bothe, the question is constant. Those who know me, ask me in English. Those who don’t know me, or who don’t speak as much English, ask me in Sesotho. I am well versed in answering in either language that no, I don’t have an umbrella and no, I don’t need to borrow one. Because of the hot summers here in Lesotho, many Basotho don’t go anywhere without some kind of wide-brimmed head covering/hat or an umbrella. Some, women especially, have both. As an American who enjoys the sun, even if it beats too hot on my head, I used to find the concept of hats and umbrellas to be superfluous. I’m darker-skinned and don’t usually experience the negatives of sunburns. I like to sweat and fell the sun-beating down on me, signs that I am alive and living through a second consecutive summer. But for many that I encounter, my behavior seems to be absurd. People shake their heads at the laughable black girl heading down the street for an hour walk with absolutely no protection from the sun. Women laugh and try to give or sell me theirs. I always refuse. The umbrella isn’t my style.

However, on the 14th of January, I took up a woman on her offer, to pretty dissatisfactory results.  On the morning of the 14th, I agreed to go with a co-teacher to an initiation school ceremony. Initiation school, also known as circumcision school, lasts from mid-July to mid-January.  During this time, the boys undergo traditional rites of passages and emerge, culturally speaking, men.  The first three months are spent in the village until the warmth of late spring/early summer leads them into the mountains. In addition to becoming circumcised by traditional doctors, they learn a myriad of skills deemed to be important for becoming a strong Basotho male.  At the ceremony, I had the privilege to ask the traditional doctor questions with the help of my co-teacher as translator. He spoke of how the men learn skills such as sewing, hunting, and tasks related to physical strength. Through the usage of traditional medicine, the men are not only strengthened but sanctified. Basotho are thought to have been protected during times of Civil War and international wars due to their men being trained and protected by the traditional doctors. War is seen more about which doctor was the best at spiritually protecting and strengthening his men.  The ceremony in January is their homecoming ceremony, where the boys-turned-men return to their villages with their new skills and knowledge in tow.  

 I, of course, knew nothing about this before heading to the ceremony. My counterpart just kept asking me if I wanted to go to the ceremony at the next big village area since I had missed the local one due to miscommunication.  What the ceremony entailed and who it was about was a mystery to me revealed only on the long walk towards the taxi/van areas. Of course, the first thing upon meeting me on the main road that my co-teacher asked me was “Why did you not bring an umbrella?” I laughed because 5 minutes prior, my host-mother had asked me the same thing when I went to let her know where I was headed. And the co-teacher’s daughter had asked me the same thing 3 minutes prior when she came to let me know that her father was waiting for me on the main road. To both of the females, I had simply replied that I did not have an umbrella and that where I come from, I am not accustomed to using an umbrella, not even when it is raining. However, my co-worker was more concerned. He was like “why did you not ask your host mother to borrow you one?” I laughed, reiterated that I am not accustomed to umbrellas and prefer the heat of the sun, even on hot days.

I thought the matter was solved, but when I arrived some time later to the ceremony grounds, it was clear that it was not. One of the traditional doctor’s wives (he has two) let me sit next to her. She fed me motoho, a sour (citrusy) porridge served at occasions such as this. Then she immediately instructed one of her friends to loan/give me an umbrella. Unsure of how to refuse politely in Sesotho and not wanting to appear rude by assuming she spoke English (she does), I took the umbrella and thanked her. I knew she was being generous and sharing, the only thing to do in the situation as a Basotho.

Because I was not a man who had paid a fee to take picture of the event, I will try to describe what I saw. Before me was a tent, in which about 20 young men were sitting on the floor, in red patterned blankets. They were facing a crowd of men, who I was later told were those who had already completed initiation school. The women and kids were sitting off the left, a little south of the tent. Behind the tent was a section that was supposed to be filled by boys who had not yet attending initiation school. But since it was early in the day and not many were attending the ceremony yet, a few women and girls were sitting there as well.  The open-tented area was surrounded by sticks covered in red colored medicine at the tips. I later learned that the sticks were there as protection for the ceremony. Anyone inside would be protected from any evil spirts or ill-wishing. Only those currently finishing initiation school were typically allowed to dwell in the center, while everyone else sat outside the boundaries of the sticks, except during the time when the entered to present gifts. At the front of the covering where the initiation school attendees were sitting was one male standing at the front, leading the singing. The ceremony most consists of boys-turned-me being announced to the crowd. That particular man then stands up and leads the whole group in singing. He may sing for as long as he wants. The length of singing sometimes depends on the number of gifts being brought up while he is singing. Gifts are brought to the left corner of the tent where one of the teachers blesses it before giving it to another teacher who collects and organizes the gifts. The blessing is done by taking the tail of a cow and dipping it into a bucket holding traditional medicine prepared by the traditional doctor. The water is then dripped/sprinkled from the cow’s tail onto the gift. This protects the gift so that even if it had evil spirits meant to do the boy-turned-man harm, the boy would be protected. Then, and only then, will the teacher pick up the gift and present it to the initiated. The gifts were a myriad of things. The idea is to present whatever you have to give in support to the initiated. My co-teacher joked that I could even lay down my eye-glasses. The gifts are given to the family of the male, so laying down something like glasses would only work if I was supporting someone in my own family. Once I was allowed to move closer, I saw so many types of gifts being given:

·      Thin brightly colored plastic bracelets

·      Mardi-gra like-beaded necklaces

·      Safety-pins

·      Matches

·      Maluti coins (Maluti is the local currency)

·      Thick warm blankets ( Both the kind worn around Basotho during cooler         

       weather and the kind you would use for your bedding only.)

·      Bandana-like cloths

·      Towels/mini-blankets decorated with tiny mirrors, beads, and the like

·      Sun-caps

·      Winter caps and hats

·      Walking staffs

·      And one time, a cell phone battery

From the comfort of the shade provided by my borrowed umbrella in the women’s seating section, I watched only the tail-end of a young man singing before the group took a break to use the bathroom and rest.

View from the women’s seating. The beauty of the event is spoiled by my poor camera quality and picture taking skills. 

During the break, however, my co-teacher called for me.  He wanted me to sit within the circle, at the front side of the tent. There, I would have a better view and would be allowed to talk with the traditional doctor who had lead this year’s initiation 6-month initiation school and had prepared the blessing-medicine.  At first, I was reluctant. I was being treated as a special guest that I was, but I was also a female and the type of special guest whose outward appearance did not separate her from local Basotho. I’m not accustomed to being treated as a special visitor, especially not an American and I felt weird being seated in a position where most people are not allowed. But I knew that my co-teacher wanted me to have the best experience and his connection to powerful people in the initiation school community allowed him to ask for a special seat for me.

As I gathered my things to relocate, I tried to hand the woman back her (bright red) umbrella. She insistently shook her head and the doctor’s wife told me that I should take it with me. To her, it was an embarrassment to have the guest seated in the special place just outside the shade of the tent without any sort of protection from the sun. I took the umbrella with me, with every intention of not using it. But when I got there, my co-worker and the doctor insisted I use it. For the first hour, I simply asked questions and took notes. Eventually the doctor left to sit at his original seat because where we were sitting was unshaded and hot. Sitting so close to the ceremony, I was able to hear the songs of the young men clearly, although I could not understand most of them. My co-worker informed me of some of the songs meanings. Some were songs of tragedy that sometimes happen in the mountains. Some were songs of jubilation from good experiences in the mountains. One paid homage to the local priest, mixing traditional faith with newer faiths. One song was specifically about having bad, ominous dreams where the young man reports of seeing the dead fathers (forefathers?) in his dream. There are so many traditional songs to be sung that I did not hear many repeated.

From my closer seat, I got to see the participants clearer and got to see their individualized outfits. In addition to the gifts received during their time to sing, each young man was adorned in various clothing accessories that they had learned to make on their own during initiation school. Some young men were wearing winter knit hats with plumes on the top. Others were wear leather or cloth satchels. A few were wearing handmade cloths pinned to their blankets. The teachers wore more elaborate outfits. They wore well-made crotchet hats and satchels. One wore an outfit made entirely out of glued or woven together beads in addition to the beaded necklaces like the ones given to the newly initiated men.  The teacher in charge of collecting gifts wore a standard tank-top but his shorts were fashioned from red cloth decorated elaborately with designs from safety pins. A teacher sitting on the side, who was in charge of crowd control and announcing the young men was shirtless but draped in beads and memorabilia made from commonly used materials. The teacher blessing the gifts was wear plain clothes with the exception of his handmade hat. All teachers were the gumboots worn by shepherds and men working in the fields.   All men involved in the ceremony were covered in a reddish-brown paint the same color of the medicine on the protective boundary sticks. This was to signify their completion of initiation school as well as the spiritual protection that such completion implied.

My closer view gave me the chance to ask question, actually hear the songs, and otherwise better experience the on-goings of the ceremony. However, it also placed me in the same spotlight as the initiates themselves. Behind me were all of the bo-mme, or women, who were either mothers, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, sisters or even teachers of the young initiates. Some most likely had to see past me in order to see the initiates they supported. Directly in front of me was the growing crowd of men who had already completed initiation school. Their long stares were many until one of the more accomplished and well-known boys began to sing a song that they all loved and appreciated.  To the right of me were the initiates themselves and their teachers.  They were largely unaware of my presence and paid me no mind.

I had come to the ceremony under the impression that I was going to come for an hour or two and then head back to my village. As time passed—one hour, two hours, three hours, three point five hours—it became clear to me that the teacher accompanying me intended for me to experience the entire ceremony. My discomfort grew. The umbrella was heavy and while it provided shade, it also provided increased temperature underneath it.  As I am not accustomed to holding umbrellas all day, I had the urge to simply close it. However, my fellow teacher was counting on it for his shade as well and it seemed rude to discard the thoughtful gift of the local woman. 

As my discomfort grew so did the discomfort of the men directly in-front of me. As new men joined the crowd later in the day and more alcohol flowed, it became clear that some were not aware of my reason for sitting so close to initiation group.  After around the 4-hour mark, (around 2:30pm), a man who had been wandering around came up to me and told me I had to put down my umbrella. When I asked why, he said that it was blocking the view of the women behind me. I attempted to place the umbrella on the ground, but my fellow teacher (who was on the phone at that time) simply grabbed it from me and restored it to its original position. His reasoning, told to me after hanging up the phone, was that if the women had a problem seeing, they would not be shy and would come to me directly. He chalked it up to the inebriation of the man and left it at that. But it was not a matter to be left alone. After another 15 to 20 minutes, a different man tried to ask one of the initiation teachers to instruct me to put down my umbrella. He ignored them of course. 

This time my fellow teacher got more involved. He got up and went to the men, explain to them that I was a special guest here to learn about Basotho culture and they were not to disturb me. He informed me that the umbrella was just an excuse. The real complaint was that they wanted me to move someplace else.  It appeared that due to my complexion and attire, the men thought I was a local woman who had broken time honored seating arrangements. Women were not supposed to sit where I was sitting, especially when even men like them could not sit so close to the ceremony. Although my fellow teacher was not forthcoming with further explanations, I wondered briefly if their problem was with my gender as a whole, or the combination of my gender and complexion. If I had looked more obviously foreign, would they have accepted my presence as a visitor more readily? Or would my status as a female still have caused problems? Either way, I longed to place down my umbrella as to not give anyone an excuse to complain. 

To my relief, the ceremony soon took a break. The initiates stood up together and walked off towards the rightmost hill. It was “lunch time”, although it was already past 3pm. To my surprise, my fellow teacher informed me that I would be following in the direction of the crowd of initiates. We had been invited to the local doctor’s house to eat with his family. I gratefully closed my umbrella, put it in my bag, and followed the crowd of men. After a short walk, we reached another hill with two houses on it. Outside the first house were all of those performing in the initiation ceremony. This house turned out to be the first house of the doctors. He had two families, with his second wife living in the lowermost house.

We journeyed even higher up towards the second house, the one housing his first wife and family. There I was seated under an awning of sorts with all of the elder men from the ceremony. The doctor was there as well. They all sat on small seats with a giant bucket of papa (local food staple, made of maize meal) and another giant bucket of beef. I, being a female and honored guest, was given a separate plate from which to eat. It too was laden with papa and beef. I whispered to my fellow teacher in panic that I couldn’t possibly eat so much food. His response was that it was okay. The family would be happy that I accepted and ate their food, regardless of the amount I actually ate.

My plate of papa (a stable of Basotho diet) made this time with yellow maize meal and nama ea khoho, beef. This is after I made an honest attempt to eat as much as possible! I gave the plate back like this! :( 

 The meal was short. Everyone ate quickly, and spoke seldom. What was spoken was in Sesotho. The doctor made sure to ask my co-teacher to let me know that they were so happy that I was here and that I should tell everyone I knew about the importance of this ceremony. I was to tell people about the great culture of Basotho. 

After the meal, the doctor’s wife called me to her and lead me back to the ceremony, which had just resumed. As we walked, she introduced me to one of her daughters, a young girl who would be attending my primary school. We chatted a little in English, though it was clear that she was shy and just beginning to learn the language. 

Back at the ceremony, I was faced with the dilemma of where to sit. Without my co-teacher next to me, I did not feel confident enough to sit back in my original seat. Plus, I wanted to sit near the doctor’s wife and ask her a few questions in English. So, I sat on the ground with the women. The umbrella, so kindly gifted to me, remained in my backpack.

The rest of the ceremony was lovely. More people had joined the audience now that it was evening time and it was becoming cooler outside. As time went on, the gifts became more extravagant, mostly because the son of the doctor and a family member of the local chief were the next two initiates to sing. The doctor’s son received at least 6 blankets and sang for over an hour to much crowd appreciation.

When it started to get dark, I walked to the road, caught the next available taxi/van, and quietly slipped home. On my seat on the ground I left behind my new umbrella.

[extraplanetarystory]

Part 3

"Xue'nun!" Pilot, surprisingly spry for what looked like a man in his early seventies, hopped onto a stage to the right of the hall. Behind him, I could just see the heads of five men and women and four qicuqop. The qicuqop were all short, except the one that towered over the other three by a head and neck. As far as I knew, that meant that one was the female. That was the only way I could figure out the difference besides asking, and I didn't like to ask.

His voice was just loud enough to overpower the academy hopefuls—who I noticed were all human—and they all fell silent. From my wall-flower position by the doors, I could just barely see everyone on the platform, unless I stayed on the absolute tip of my toes. Which was tiring.

"This is going to be short," Pilot continued, another wide grin slowly pulling across his face. "Both my introduction and this program. In exactly seven days' time, you will know your Zega future. That doesn't exist for vast majority of you, as it's most likely that most of you will be gone before then." He paused to let a soft murmur rise from the crowd. It cut itself short as quickly as it started. "I hate to crush your hopes... Actually, no, I don't. I've been doing this for a while."

He stopped, chuckling to himself, and turned to the humans on the platform. They shook their head and rolled their eyes. He looked at the qi'qop. The female mimicked the humans. One of the short ones was nodding.

I knew I was going to be one of those losers for sure. For absolutely sure. One week? There's no way. This realization had me thinking that maybe I would actually participate. If I was sure to fail—which I was—at least I could make Tawyn happy that I gave it the old college try.

"I know what you're thinking!" Pilot went on. "Vad'n-teaj is this old man talking about? This isn't how it's done. This wasn't how it's done, but we decided to change things. Instead of seven tests, you will be given one. One test to decide if you get a chance to see Sa'cra. One test to decide if you get to visit any planet you want. One test to decide if you get to be the ones to discover what's at the edge of the known galaxy."

Wow, Pilot was dramatic. And inspiring.

He went on, less dramatically, to explain how today and then the rest of the week would play out. The first day, we are assigned into teams of three. First day, we meet our team members, get acquainted with each other and the tower. And then the second day and so on begins the real fun. We receive an assignment and have to finish it. And during all that, people were going to be dismissed. I couldn't wait for my turn.

Symbols appeared on the walls around us, cuing him to dismiss us to the day. We had to line up according to our names.

Oh, really, I was going to fail my first test already?

I wandered through the crowd, trying to pick out people saying their names and coordinating them with the letters on the walls. I know I'd seen my own name written down a couple of times. They wrote it for me. I couldn't remember any part of it. I couldn't remember the first stinking letter of it.

I was going to fail my first test already.

The lines that formed around the hall were starting to combine into a noisy circle of chatter in the center as they waited. People were filtering out the doors with little pieces of paper in their hands.

My two options were to wait for my partners to find me, or to ask someone which line I belong to. One delayed the embarrassment, one got it over with quick.

I took the second option and sped-walk as inconspicuously as I could to someone who'd already gotten their paper, one of the guys with a feathered mohawk that Pilot had talked to earlier. It wasn't just a mohawk; it was also a bunch of intricate braids along the sides of his head. They were hard not to get distracted by.

"Excuse," I said as quiet as I could. "My name is Jiaal. What line do I go to?"

He looked at me like I was pulling his leg, like this was a trick question of some kind. Squinting. Either he thought I was being too stupid to be serious or this was part of the program. He didn't say anything, just looked around, pointed at a letter and line to the left of us, and gave me that initial face again.

I smiled, nodded, and backed away. "Good. I was...testing you. That was a test. You did good." I gave him a salute and slid into the line. He was still looking at me when I pulled into myself and shielded my face so he couldn't see me turning red. I really wished I had learned how to read by now. Even letters! I should have picked up letters by now. Letters are easy, stupid!

Note to self: The symbol that looks like a stylized and italicized little G was a J—or the equivalent of J. It made the J sound.

I waited a moment or two and looked through my fingers. He was gone. There was someone else in his place, though, staring at me with a frown. A man with perfectly coiffed hair, a perfectly groomed face, and a tailored, high-collar suit. And he was a member of Zi'inra's higher higher class, which explained the togetherness. Atlyana dragged me to an event his family hosted when they first got me and I was the major distraction of the night. That probably explained the frown.

He didn't say anything as the line moved along, just watched. I tried to act like I hadn't actually noticed and couldn't feel his eyes. It felt like knives, to be honest. I didn't even want to ask him what was up—well, actually, I did. A daydream version of me would have snapped at him to take a picture and stop making me uncomfortable. But that version was not me, so I just wanted to get out of his sight.

"Name." A woman was standing at the wall with a fan of papers in her hand.

As I told her, I huffed to myself. Why couldn't these teams be given in some electronic form? Or, you know, spoken to us? So I guess I could just go ask frowny starey guy what the names—oh, something went my way! There were pictures!

The woman handed me a paper, which was actually more plastic than tree fiber, and ushered me off with a call to the next person.

My brief moment of joy was ruined when I saw frowny guy's face on the sheet. I sighed and looked up. He was giving me the most perfunctory smile now, and waited until I actually looked at him before he gestured with his head to follow him.

"How did they get our pictures like this?" I asked as we left the hall for the shaded open corridor that ran around the tower, trying to get this off on at least a neutral air. "I certainly did not get—"

"My name is Riche'e," he said, stopping at a thin pillar, pursing his lips. "I wasn't able to find our partner." With the motion and commotion of the people, that wasn't a surprise.

"It is pleasant to meet you, Riche'e," I lied. "I am sure you already know my name."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Anyone from Zennae knows who you are."

"Oh, so you were not giving me that face because I'm so unique and unknown?" I wondered if he knew what sardony and sarcasm was as his face twisted around.

"No. What is—" He stopped and rubbed the side of his face, then shook his head. "No. I am confused about why you are here. Why you, a—why are you here?"

Because my adoptive father doesn't know how to run ideas by people or warn them ahead of time. "The same as anyone else," I said evenly. "As Pilot said, to see Sa'cra, to visit every planet. To join Zega.To see what is at the edge of our galaxy."

And then my mouth clamped shut and a gasp was caught in my throat. Maybe Tawyn was actually trying to help me instead of just getting me to do something.

"To find Earth!" I was almost grinning with the shock of the lightbulb finally turning on. If I actually made it through this thing, if I actually made it through the academy and into Zega, there had to be a way I could find my way home!

Riche'e drew in a long breath and let it out, slowly nodding all the way. "That is what I was afraid of."

I watched his face. I couldn't understand what was happening to it. It went to that original frown I first saw, then confusion, then...reluctance? Something as he opened his mouth three times but wasn't able to say anything.

"Arlyxe," he finally went. "You need to know—" Ah, I knew what he was trying to say. I was going to have to go through this yet another time. "Has no one told you Earth does not exist?"

I balled my fists and shoved them in my pant pockets. "I have been told," I said through a clenched jaw. "I am done hearing it! Earth does exist, and I know that because I am from there!"

"No, it doesn't," he insisted, his eyes wide.

"Why? If everyone thinks this, why is it true?"

"In the first place, it's supposed location. The Ubjanaxe spent over a hundred loliels searching for it, with the help of rudkjurt, and Zega joined the mission as well. 'Earth' is supposed to be located in a section of the galaxy that has no habitable planets, much less any that can support a civilization of humans. I'm just saying that if you go looking—"

A small ball smacked into his forehead with a quiet (and quietly satisfying) thud, bouncing then into a pillar, and went soaring into an open grassy area where it was avoided by anyone it flew by.

"Shu'raqe lenexe!" He held his head. Someone else cursed as well as a man and a woman skid to a stop beside us.

"Are you alright?" the man asked.

"He threw it," the woman said, deciding to take off running. She ran for the ball and then kept running.

"And you missed," the man shouted after her, "which is why you're here and not in the reaxue!"

"Vad'n-teaj, was that a vissure ball?" Riche'e looked at the man in disbelief, like he'd intentionally attacked and was getting ready to throw another.

"It was a trainer, thankfully. Are you alright?"

"Why are you throwing vissure balls around?" Riche'e rubbed his head.

"Eh... I guess because Jemla and I are kuma? I am... I apologize so much." He half chuckled, visibly nervous, and cleared his throat. "It seems it's also my luck that you're both my partners. I'm Micje Lace." Riche'e just gave a nod.

"Mickey?" I asked.

"No, Micje."

"Mick... Mick-ya..." When I said it correctly, he nodded. The look on his face suggested that shouldn't have been so hard to grasp. Which was par for the course.

So, all things considered, it seemed the day got off to the smoothest start possible.

[fitness-tips]

Spot Toning

Spot toning is truly the secret of attaining a Hollywood body. The next time you are watching your favorite celebrities walking down the red carpet or being interviewed on television, examine their various body parts. Focus on the small details and take in how and why certain areas of their bodies stand out. Look at the body parts con- taining large muscle groups, such as the legs, the back, the arms, the chest, and the abdomen. All of these muscle groups are the sum of many parts as well.

In examining the large muscle groups of the celebrity body, you will begin to see traits that you admire and may want to emulate. If you look closely enough, many things may begin to stick out. You will notice a certain symmetry that is dazzling. You will see balance between the upper and lower halves of the Hollywood body. Look closer and you will see that the right and left arms are the same size. The right and left legs are equally toned and muscular. The biceps are just about as large as the calves. As you begin, balance will be your primary focus.

It is not uncommon for most people to be out of balance. When we drive, we get out of the car by placing our left foot on the ground, and that leg supports our en- tire weight as we stand. As a consequence, the left thigh is generally stronger and larger than the right thigh. Also, we all have a dominant arm, and we use that arm most of the time. This dominant arm is probably stronger and larger than the other arm. This imbalance may extend to other body parts. Perhaps one of your shoul- ders is larger or higher, or one side of your back is more developed than the other. The muscles in your lower back may not be as strong or developed as your abdom- inal musculature. Aside from disrupting proper posture, these imbalances take away from looking fit.

Legs

Pay particular attention to your legs. When you are doing your sculpting exercises, you should strive to work your legs very hard. The harder you work them, the greater the results will be throughout the rest of your body. There should be a bal- ance between the strength and size of the front and back of the thigh. Commonly, even with well-defined thighs, the rear of the thigh is not well developed. When the back of the thigh (hamstring) is bowed rather than flat, it will create a better line to accentuate the curvature of the buttocks, providing you with a more athletic and toned appearance. There are some large muscles in the front of the thigh. Creating greater definition in this area will have fantastic payoffs. Achieving a line appearance down the side of the thigh provides the ultrafit, hard-body look that seems to be in vogue. For women especially, well-defined calves are the secret to looking your best and strut- ting your stuff. Other than being tortuous, high heels are designed to provide the calf with a certain flex, making it appear well defined and accentuating the muscle

Buttocks

When you work on your gluteus maximus—your butt—you will need to develop the point of demarcation where the rear of the thigh meets the bottom of the but- tocks. Strengthen the muscles on each cheek so that they have a rounded rather than flat appearance. Creating this kind of definition will help offset whatever effects gravity and genetics have had. The next priority, especially for men, is to de- velop the edges of the muscle, providing you with the “dimple” or hollow just out- side the joint where your thigh and pelvic bone meet.

Back

The back is made up of a very large group of muscles that greatly accentuate your overall appearance. There are three celebrity secrets that can make the back truly stunning. First, there are the shoulder blades. You will be striving to achieve a well- defined musculature on the inside of each shoulder blade. Second, you will de- velop the trapezius (traps) muscles that look as if they sit on top of the actual shoulder blade. For both men and women, the development of these muscles makes the back sexier. Shaping these muscles will help the shoulder blades pull closer together. This will positively affect your posture, lifting your chest and rolling back your shoulders (the opposite of hunching your shoulders). Not only will you appear to be standing straighter and more lifted, but the musculature run- ning down either side of the spine will be accentuated, providing you with an even more defined look. Third, and perhaps most important, you will strengthen the latissimus dorsi (lats) muscles. These winglike muscles begin in the center of your rib cage and reach up toward your armpits. Depending on your body type, you can develop these muscles to deemphasize a thick waist, create an hourglass figure, appear extremely athletic, or make your torso appear longer to emphasize your shoulders rather than your hips, or to appear extremely thin.

Chest

A developed chest can make men appear more virile and powerful, and for women it can be far more enhancing than plastic surgery. The strategy to achieve a Holly- wood chest is remarkably similar for both men and women. Basically the chest muscle is shaped like a horseshoe. We will focus on developing and accentuating the outer edges of the horseshoe. It will then be easier to fill in the horseshoe and give the chest a more balanced look. You may notice that many box office idols have developed the upper portions of their pectoral muscles. Aside from defining the outer edge, this upper pectoral development is crucial. Female celebrities spend an even greater amount of time working this area. They concentrate on the upper pectoral area to enhance cleavage and make the collarbone more pro- nounced; however, they work the bottom half just as hard for lift, and they pay even closer attention to the inner edge of the pectoral muscle for breast separation as well as to accentuate the ribs connecting to the sternum.

Arms

The development and sculpting of the shoulder muscles can create a stunningly beautiful arm as well as proper posture. Read the next few sentences, then put this book down to determine if you have muscular imbalance. Simply stand up, extend your arms to the sides, release them, and let them fall. Let them bounce and come to a stop. Take notice of which way your palms are facing. Chances are that your palms are facing behind you and your knuckles are facing forward (to some degree). If not, you represent 2 percent of the general population and probably do some kind of heavy manual labor such as working with a hand- saw. The reason your knuckles are facing forward is that the rear portion of your shoulder is weaker than the front portion of the muscle. There are very few activ- ities that will develop the rear portion of the shoulder, and it is precisely this sec- tion that is the coup de grace of the most stunning Hollywood bodies. Take a close look at your favorite female star wearing a sleeveless dress. Notice how there is a well-defined point of demarcation that separates the back of the shoulder and the tricep. For both men and women, that will be our focus for shoulder sculpting, as it is the most-prized secret of the stars. Men and women have very different needs and goals for their arms. Women look to create a well-defined but decidedly feminine-looking arm, while most men shoot for size. For men, this area of the body is of singular importance. Men’s biceps are a symbol of power and strength—an expression of manliness. While our intention will be to create a certain amount of bulk and definition, men should take a look at some celebrity biceps. This is a very simple muscle. It is connected to the skeletal system in just two places, and the only function of this muscle is to contract. Therefore, it becomes easy to have a very short little ball of a bicep. While watching some celebrity arms, notice how long and relatively full their bi- ceps are. While creating some bulk and a whole lot of definition in the biceps, one of our primary concerns is to develop an elongated bicep. But the biceps are only half of the arm. The main focus is to develop the two sides of the tricep muscle and strive for separation between them. Men should try to achieve a relative bal- ance between the size of the biceps and triceps, and women should try to tone and cut the triceps. For women, the more defined the triceps—the more muscle sepa- ration you can achieve here—the better your arms will look.

Abdominals

The muscles that comprise the majority of the abdominal section of your body are like eight little boxes. In the gym, people refer to them as a six-pack, and if they are really defined, an eight-pack. Everyone has an eight-pack. Most of us, though, have subcutaneous fat (the fat underneath the skin) that prevents these muscles from being seen. If you can see muscle definition on the tummies of your favorite cele- brities it is not because they have big abdominal muscles—it is because they have a very low body fat percentage.

[goldcoastdreams]

Wooden surfboard masterclass reconnects riders with surfing's sustainable history

Updated March 23, 2018 09:07:59

Photo: After four long days, the class celebrates with their finished boards. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) The first men and women to ride froth-tipped waves off the coast of Hawaii and other Polynesian Islands did so on planks of wood. They were heavy and difficult to handle, but these early surfers laid the foundations for a sport now embraced worldwide and dominated on the professional circuit by Australians. Modern advancements have seen wood phased out in favour of plastic and foam surfboards, valued for their light weight and flexibility. However, a growing body of surfers still pine for boards reminiscent of those from decades ago. In a small sunbathed workshop in suburban Brisbane, a group gathers to lovingly handcraft their own wooden boards. "I thought wooden boards were something that left the planet in the '60s and didn't belong in this era or this time," Stuart Bywater, a woodworker and furniture restorer, said. "They just ride differently."

Photo: Stuart Bywater (right) has turned a passion into a career. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) Mr Bywater was 13 when he rode his first wave. More than 30 years later he has turned that passion into a career and teaches others to make boards. "A lot of people don't make things in their day-to-day or in their life," he said. "They'll sit at a computer and write things or make documents but actually have nothing physical and substantial after that."

Photo: Stuart's students share a laugh during his course. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) The first challenge of his four-day intensive class is getting his students to forget about their mobile phones and focus on the task at hand. "As soon as they get in the habit of just putting the phone away and focusing on what we're doing, they tend to enjoy it a lot more," Mr Bywater said. "I encourage people that they do actually have the skill if they go slowly. "People who rush in tend to miss some of those finer points." Art of shaping organic lines But even for his students with woodworking experience, shaping the organic lines of a surfboard can pose a challenge. "The first board I glued up was an absolute nightmare," Mr Bywater said. "It was the worst glue up in my life and I've been doing woodwork for over 30 years."

Photo: Student Glenn Cameron concentrates on smoothing his rails. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault)

Photo: The first step building a surfboard is assembling its internal ribs. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) Brisbane design and technology teacher Glenn Cameron said making his first board was a real test of his skills. "Everything we do is square and straight," Mr Cameron said, during a break from sanding his board. "That real organic shape that comes through surfboards is something that's quite challenging, particularly curves turning into other curves. "That's why Stuart's trained eye is a really good thing to learn from." The class starts out with thin paulownia "ribs and rails" the names given to the skeleton of wood pieces that form the inner structures of the board. "It's very much like a fish skeleton or an aeroplane wing," Mr Bywater said. Actually, the man who designed the first hollow surfboard is said to have picked up a few ideas from an aeronautical engineer during the process.

Photo: Wooden ribs and rails form the skeleton of the surfboard. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault)

Photo: Each skin is as unique as its maker. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Reanult) The pieces are then carefully nailed and glued together to form the board's shape and large panels of wood are glued together and left to dry to form the skins. Some have pinstripes of western red cedar in hues of red or dark brown; others break up large sections of creamy paulownia with a pink-tinged wood. Each board design is named after famous Australian Olympic swimmers Rose, Dawn, Gould and Perkins. "I'm a bit of a sucker for our summer Olympics and very proud of being Australian," Mr Bywater said. Hard work and hand tools Michael Wheelaghan travelled from Sydney to make his own surfboard, a nine-foot Dawn. He said he had a passion for surfing but almost no woodworking experience. "I'm an IT worker by trade so all I do all day is work in an office," he said. "It's been a few days of sore joints and sore arms but nothing too bad."

Photo: It takes eight hours to shape the board by hand. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault)

Photo: Even coffee is ignored as the class painstakingly planes the ribs and rails of their boards. (ABC Radio Brisbane) Dawn is a broad long board which, according to Mr Wheelaghan, would be easier to surf. He said the board would take pride of place next to his other foam boards because he was the one who made it. "I think there's something about the materials that you use that connects you back to the early history of surfing," he said. Many of the students make their boards with a particular break in mind. Mr Bywater said he expected most of them would be ridden often once completed, but a few of his students would consider them too precious to use.

Photo: Freshly glued skins are put in a vacuum bag to draw out all of the air. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault)

Photo: The boards sleep in their vacuum bags overnight before they're shaped and sanded some more. (Supplied: Stuart Bywater) Pride in the hand-crafted Like meat at the supermarket, the boards reach their final form by being put into a plastic sleeve and having the air sucked out. It makes the fibreglass-lined skins stick to the glue-coated edges of the frame. Miles of packing tape is then strapped around the board to keep the joins tight before it's bagged and sealed overnight. The surfers spend their final day shaping the smooth curved lines and sanding any rough edges in anticipation of the final glassing and addition of fins to help steer on the waves. To wax or not to wax is something each participant contemplates during the course. Once glassed, the natural, muted colours of boards take on a new appearance. They look slick, like the veneer on an acoustic guitar, and the pink, red and brown tones become rich and dark.

Photo: Sanding is the final step before the boards are glassed. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault)

Photo: Frames get sandwiched between fibreglassed skins. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) Mr Bywater said the first surf was often the most difficult. "The biggest problem while going to the beach with one of the boards is that you get stopped quite regularly," he said. "Everyone's going, 'Where did you get that from? That's really nice'." At different times surfers have attempted to reignite interest in wooden surfboards. Today, Mr Bywater suspects their sustainability credentials he only uses plantation-grown timber is what draws people in to workshops like his. "In the last 15 years there's been a bigger revival with our environmental issues," he said. "If we have lots of storms, you tend to see rubbish out in the water which is pretty disappointing. "It's nice to make something, ride it and know it's timber."

Photo: These surfboards are almost ready to ride. (ABC Radio Brisbane: Hailey Renault) Topics:sport,surfing,design,arts-and-entertainment,human-interest,brisbane-4000,maroochydore-4558,mermaid-waters-4218 First posted March 23, 2018 07:00:32 http://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-03-23/wooden-surfboard-class-connecting-people-with-sports-history/9570760?source=rss

[dictionaryrainbowarchive]

The Coffeehouse Quintet - Book 2: Lessons Infidelity

DAY 1

Ben set his cup down on the last empty table at the crowded coffeehouse. He plopped himself down in the cushy seat and scanned the room. He probably stared a second or two longer than was polite at the cute college girl sitting at the table next to him before moving on. As much as he tired to not let his gaze wander to other women sometimes he just couldn’t help it.

The coed had her text books out and was looking at one notebook while she jotted more notes in another. Her sandy blond hair was pulled up in a pony tail and held there with a frilly white scrunchy. Despite the warm spring day, she wore a pullover with the local university’s logo on it and capri pants. Her soft features weren’t covered in makeup. In fact, the little makeup she had on was poorly applied, as if she’d just started wearing it recently. She reminded Ben a lot of his wife of 15 years, Ellen, which is why he forgave himself of the slight transgression.

Putting the girl out of mind, he unfolded his newspaper and started to read. The coffeehouse’s muzak and ambient noise faded into a calming murmur. Ben came to the coffeehouse just for that; he found total silence off-putting and anything more than background noise would steal his attention. Taking a sip of his coffee, he searched through the section for the continuation of his article.

A woman sitting at one of the window seats yelled something at her boyfriend. Her high pitched squeal pierced Ben’s ears. He folded his newspaper down and shot her a disapproving glare. Couldn’t people have the decency to breakup in private? What was with the fad of dumping people or firing them in a crowded place? Yes! It makes a scene, no matter what they thought.

Turning back to his paper, Ben started reading again. The soothing chatter of the coffeehouse helped him regain his focus but it was lost when the woman cried out again. He glowered at her. The serenity of the place was gone, his attention was shot. Ben tried to get back into his paper, but they’d ruined it for him.

Now just pretending to read, Ben glanced back up at the arguing couple. The woman was pointing out the window at a whorish looking girl who was adjusting her rather large, fake breasts in the store window. She was probably pissed that her boyfriend was staring at the slut. The way the guy was grinning, Ben figured they had that argument a lot.

It was hard for Ben to find fault with either of them. He couldn’t blame the guy for looking, the way the girl had displayed herself and had been hefting her tits around right in front of him, it was inevitable. Ben wasn’t really into that type of girl, but had he been in the other guy’s place, there’s no way he could have looked away. It would have been like watching a traffic accident unfold in front of him. But the angry woman was well with in her rights. They were in a relationship. Relationships were sacred. Relationships were monogamous and should be, as The Flamingos sang, “I only have eyes for you.”

He stole a second glance at the studious coed at the table next to him. Not that Ben knew her, but he could tell she’d be the faithful type when she at last found the right man. She looked so much like his love, Ellen, so angelic and innocent. Ben was the first person Ellen had even kissed. Most of his friends had thought her overly gullible, Ben felt it was just her purity and the faith she had in her fellow man. He idly wondered if the coed would blush at profanity in the cute way Ellen did.

“Fine!” The woman by the window yelled. This time, the college girl joined Ben in his glare. The couple’s argument seemed to becoming to a climax. Ben hoped that one or both of them would leave and he could concentrate again. He took a glance at the coed and their eyes met. Hurriedly, he ducked behind his newspaper and hid.

Pretending to read his paper, Ben shielded himself from his embarrassment until a nondescript voice spoke to him. “Ben, mind if I sit with you?”

Ben looked over the top of his paper. The man from the arguing couple was peering over it at him. Ben raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

Without waiting for Ben’s approval, the average looking man plopped down into the empty seat across from him. “You do now, Ben.”

“I’m sorry. I come here to read. Would you mind...”

“Don’t lie, Ben. We both know you come here just to check out the girls.”

“I most certainly do not!”

The man grinned. “There’s no use denying it, Ben. You’ve been drooling over that coed ever since you sat down.”

Slamming his paper down on the table, he glowered at the man. “’Ben. Ben. Ben.’ Look, if you’re going to constantly name me while you insult me, you could at least have the decency to give me yours.”

The mysterious man waved his hand. “You don’t want to know my name.”

“No? What do I want then?”

“That.” He pointed at the college girl.

True, she was the type of girl he liked, he could admit that much. but he didn’t want her. He already had Ellen. But there was something about the girl; her unevenly applied makeup seemed more professional and thicker, a lot thicker. Foundation was liberally applied to hide every blemish, and grayish-blue eye shadow accentuated the bright blue colored contacts she wore.

She lifted her pencil to her mouth and it transformed into a stick of dark red lipstick, which she applied to her collagen enhanced lips. Slowly, her pullover started to lift up as implants grew into her tits. It wasn’t long before the pullover itself started to change. The neck line fell lower and lower, exposing more and more of her plastic chest. The sleeves fell away, exposing several tattoos fading in on her arms. The pullover was now a tank top so tight, it could have been painted on and done more to conceal her flesh.

Not to be out done, her jeans retreated up her well toned legs. They finally stopped at the point where the term “short Daisy Dukes” would have been too modest to describe how little material was left. Her now overly exposed legs darkened until they were a deep tan of a girl who spent more hours sunning than anything else. Her socks started to climb up the curve of her leg thinning themselves out into a pair of cross-patterned stockings that stopped just above her knees, leaving her smooth thighs completely exposed. Her red sneakers fell apart as the heel grew into large spikes. The college slut’s new red heels were bright enough that they’d call attention to them, making sure anyone looking would drink in her legs down to her toes.

The text books and notebooks she had been using were gone. In their place was some nail polish and makeup. Her attitude and aurora radiated, “I’ve got more important things to do than school.” Ben didn’t know what was happening to the former coed, but he instinctively knew that that girl hadn’t even graduated high school let alone made it into the prestigious local university. She was geared to making a living off her body, not her brain. The coed ceased to exist, even in Ben’s mind.

Ben looked away from the slut. “You must be crazy. I’ve never been interested in girls like that.”

“Don’t be shy, Ben. It’s only natural. She presents herself for the taking. I bet if you asked, she’d do you on the table, you and your massive cock.”

“I’m a married man, how dare you suggest I would even consider doing such a thing.”

“Lots of men have extramarital affairs.”

“I believe in the sanctity of monogamy.”

The girl had pulled a dildo out of her purse and was fucking her exposed cunt. Ben looked around, but no one but him and the barista had seemed to notice. The other woman was glowering at the tramp.

“I bet you wish that was your dick she was fucking,” the mystery man said.

“No, I was thinking whether I should call the cops or not.”

“I don’t know why you deny your manhood. You should just fuck her. Take her to the bathroom and do her up the ass if you’re to shy about taking her right here and now.”

Ben couldn’t understand why he didn’t just get up and leave the vulgar man. Every impulse he had screamed for him to do just that, but he sat there and engaged him in conversation.

“I don’t because I have a wife.”

“I know, it’s the classic ‘married my high school sweetheart.’ Look, after you fuck that girl, fuck your wife when you get home. She’ll never know.”

“I’m not going to fuck...screw her.”

“I was trying to be nice. I was trying to lighten your life up, but I see you just want to be a prick. Alright, I’ll make you a bet. I bet you that you can’t resist fucking that girl four times in the next four days.”

Ben grinned. “That’ll be the easiest bet I’ve ever won.”

The nondescript man leaned forward and stared Ben in the eyes. “Alright then, here are the terms. If you win, you and your monster meat will be forever successful. If you play the lotto, you’ll win. If you start a new business, it’ll go national with in the first month.”

Doubt was creeping into Ben’s mind. There was no way that man could make that promise come true. No one had that power.

“However, every time you fuck that nasty slut you’re drooling over, you’ll lose an inch off your cock, and you’ll go home and fuck your wife. Your wife will pick up a trait of the slut until she could be a mirror image.”

Ben looked at the skank dildoing herself in public, only this time, he saw the cute coed with a bright future. His eyes told him she was a whore that would fuck anyone for anything, but his mind told him she used to be sweet and innocent, like Ellen. That was impossible.

He turned his attention back to the man. Ben knew in his soul that his table companion was responsible for the changes. Getting in a bet with someone who could do that... “No bet,” Ben said.

The man put his hand to his cheek and in mock sympathy said, “Aww, Ben, you’ve already accepted. ‘That’ll be the easiest bet I’ve ever won.’ It’s really simple. Just don’t fuck that girl four times in four days.”

It’ll be easy. Ben looked at the girl. Her bulbous tits shook with her furious thrusting. Her free hand massaged her pierced clit and she squirmed in her seat. Ben felt no attraction for women like that, but his cock said otherwise. He could feel himself hardening, his nine inch monster snaked its way down his thigh.

A glance around the room told him no one was paying attention to the girl except for him and the baristra. She was still frowning at the display. Someone’s gotta say something and put a stop to this.

Lurching up out of his seat because of his raging hard-on, Ben walked over to the slut. “Excuse me.”

She looked up at him. “Bout fucking time! I was wondering how long you’d just stare. Let’s get your little guy out to play.”

Before he could say anything or do anything, the slut had his fly open and fished out his giant penis. Not prepared for its size, it flicked out and hit her cheek. She cooed “Wow. I should have said big guy! You’re huge!” Then, she plunged every inch of him into her mouth.

Ben shuddered with the sensation. He’d never been deep throated before. Warmth and pleasure spread from his groin up. He didn’t want the sensation to stop. He wanted this skank to slurp him forever, but then again, if her mouth was this good, what would it be like to fuck her fake tits or loose cunt?

He pulled the straps of her tank top down and freed her melons. They had no sag as they proudly stuck off her chest. Pulling his member out of her mouth, the girl put it in her cleavage and started to rub. Ben was again blown away by the experience. He felt like he’d been cheating himself his entire life.

Not caring if anyone was watching their pornographic performance, Ben picked the slut up and threw her on the table. Coffee went spilling everywhere. He moved the thin material covering her crotch and shoved his shaft in her.

“Oh, God! You’re so fucking big. I’d fuck you any time,” she said. The girls screams and moans filled the coffeehouse, yet still no one seemed to notice. As Ben pounded into her, her moans turned into a stream of “Fuck me!“s.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the barista finally make her way over with a stern look, but some man Ben felt he’d seen somewhere before led her away by her arm. He focused on the whore’s massive rack wobbling back and forth with his thrusts. He could feel his orgasm building up, so could the girl, who rolled off the table and put him back in her mouth. Just like a porn star, she jacked him and sucked him until he exploded in her mouth.

“You were fantastic,” she told him.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?” What?

“For a fuck like that, I should be paying you. No charge, honey.”

What was he thinking about paying her for? He’d betrayed his vows to Ellen! Ben zipped his fly up and ran out of the coffeehouse, leaving his paper behind.

By the time Ben got home that night, he convinced himself he’d fallen asleep at the coffeehouse and dreamed the whole ordeal. How could he fuck someone in public without anyone noticing? How could a coed morph into a whore? The thing he found most incredulous was how could he have been unfaithful? There was no doubt in his mind that it was all a dream.

Ellen was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner when Ben walked up behind her and hugged her. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and it tickled Ben’s nose. She wore a loose fitting orange shirt with the logo of their alma mater on it and a pair of black jeans over her slim athletic figure.

He pressed his hard dick into her skinny ass and wiggled his hips back and forth while moving hers in the opposite direction. “Honey, I’m home,” he said.

“Someone sure is.” She slapped his hands away. “But after dinner. It’ll get cold.”

Disappointed, Ben turned away and headed into the dining room. Thanks to Ben being rather successful, they were financially stable enough that Ellen didn’t need to work. That was the way Ben preferred it, having his wife at home to cook and clean for him. It gave him a sense of satisfaction knowing he’d always come home to an immaculately clean house, and delicious homemade meals perfectly on time. Ben was without want whenever he was home.

Ben sat down at the already set table and drank from the glass of wine Ellen had left out for him. It was a Malbec, which meant Ellen was preparing her lamb dish. Ben wondered if she had time to go to the gym today like she normally did.

She made idle chitchat as she put a salad down in front of Ben. He grunted his responses and dug in. Ellen sat across from him and started to eat in a more graceful manner. He wasn’t in the mood for talking. He wasn’t in the mood for eating either. There was only one thing on his mind and his erection agreed with him. He’d been hard the second he walked in the door, but if Ellen wanted to eat before they fu...made love, Ben was willing to agree. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t scarf his food down to hurry the process up, however.

Something beeped in the kitchen and Ellen got up to go check on whatever it was. As soon as she left, Ben took the opportunity to eat half her salad, hoping to speed her up as well. He was able to get back in his seat just as Ellen came back with a rack of lamb with rosemary. As she served some to Ben, he looked at her non-existent chest and wondered what she’d look like with implants. An extra surge of blood rushed to his penis. Where the hell did that thought come from?

Unhappy with how he was acting, Ben determined to deny himself. He would eat slower than normal, wait until Ellen had finished the dishes, then they would watch TV together and right before they went to sleep, he’d fuck Ellen’s brains out. No! They would make tender love.

Ellen glanced at her salad. “Wow, did I really eat that much already?”

Through a mouthful of lamb, Ben said, “Uhh, yeah. You seemed pretty hungry.”

“That’s weird.” Ellen sat back down and continued talking about various things. Ben usually enjoyed talking with her, but tonight he just kept staring, waiting for her to finish. When she got to the point where Ben considered her done, he stood up and walked over to her. He felt obsessed, compelled to take his wife. There was no denying his lust.

He took her hand and pulled her away from the table.

“What are you doing, Ben? What’s gotten into you?”

Ben didn’t answer, he just led her into the bedroom and pushed her down on the bed.

“Get the light,” Ellen said.

Ben turned the light off and threw his clothes off. In the faint glow coming in from outside, he could see that Ellen was doing the same. Her formless body shifted in the shadows and Ben had a flash back to his daydream from lunch, giant tits with pierced nipples, vulgar sex, and cum drinking. His cock throbbed and pre-cum appeared on the tip.

None of that would happen with his wife. She considered oral sex dirty, didn’t like her breasts to be fondled, and never made a peep. When Ben heard women complaining about the lack of foreplay, he often joined in.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

Ellen touched herself. “Yes.” She grabbed his penis and aimed it at her vagina. “Wow, you’re really hard tonight.”

Ben grunted and thrust into her. She was wet. She was more than wet; Ellen was practically overflowing. For the first time ever, Ellen moaned as he entered her. Her cries of passion didn’t stop there, rather, they escalated as he pumped into her. Her moans soon turned into “Harder!” and “Yes!” and got progressively lewder until she was crying out “Fuck my cunt!”

Whether it was how wet his wife was or how vulgar she was, Ben couldn’t tell, but he could no longer hold back and shot his load deep into her pussy. She let out a long “fuuuuck” and came with him. Then, what surprised him even more than her profanity, she got up and started cleaning his cock off. The sight of his wife’s lips wrapped around his dick made Ben get hard again.

Several hours later, the couple laid side by side. Ben was groping the small 175cc implants Ellen had gotten some time a go to give her boyish form nice B cup breasts. Sperm was leaking out of her well used pussy.

“That was fucking incredible. In-fucking-credible. Why haven’t you ever fucked me like that before?”

Ben didn’t respond. He was deep in thought. After his last orgasm, his penis had seemed smaller. It had looked a good inch shorter than normal. Maybe it was because he was tired after cumming so many times. Even if it was lost, that would have put him at eight inches, which was still quite large.

“Shit. We can never ‘make love’ again. You’ve gotta fuck me from now on.” Ellen got out of bed and walked naked out of the room. Somewhere in the back of Ben’s mind it struck him as odd that she hadn’t gotten dressed.

He followed her out into the kitchen, also nude. Ellen was standing in front of the sink, looking at the dishes. “I don’t feel like doing this shit now. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You’ve, uuh got something there.” Ben pointed at some cum dribbling down her thigh.

“Oh wow, I do.” Ellen ran her finger up her thigh, scooping it up and then licked her hand clean. Despite their numerous couplings in the bedroom, Ben started to get hard. Ellen noticed it. “You better put that cock away, or I’ll find a place to fucking stick it.”

Unable to contain himself, Ben pushed her against the counter and entered her from behind. It didn’t occur to Ben that not only was it the first time for him to have sex with the lights on, it was also their first time outside of the bedroom. The dishes didn’t get done that night.

DAY 2

The next morning, Ben woke up and ate some cereal. Ellen was still passed out from their activities the night before and he didn’t want to wake her just so she could make him breakfast. He was reading the paper and on his second bowl when she came in the kitchen.

Ellen was still naked and her hair was knotted up behind her head.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

She mumbled in response. Even though she was five years younger, Ben had always been the better morning person.

“Have some coffee.” Ben poured her a glass and she leaned against the counter and slowly sipped on it.

He went back to his paper and the two stayed in silence for several minutes. Ellen finally broke it. “I’ve been thinking of getting a job.”

Ben looked up. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I know we don’t need the money, but it’s just fucking boring during the day here.”

“What type would you been looking for?”

“I dunno. Something easy, like a secretary or receptionist. I don’t have the degree for anything else.” Ellen had never finished college. She dropped out after the two got married.

Nodding, Ben smiled at his wife. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone has an opening.”

“Thanks, my love. My fucking machine.”

Ben got up and put his dishes in the cluttered sink. He turned and looked at Ellen. He reached out and tweaked one of her nipples. “Don’t forget, I’ve got Carl’s bachelor party on Friday.”

“Oh, it’s this Friday? Oh...”

He could hear the unasked question. “Don’t worry, Saturday night will be our greatest anniversary. It’s our tenth after all.”

Ellen beamed. “You remembered! I was so worried you’d forget. 10 wonderful years since we met and married in college.”

Still rubbing her nipple, Ben said, “I’ve got quite a day in store for us.”

“Mmm... I can’t wait. You better stop that unless you want to take it somewhere.” She said, referring to his manipulations.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got to run to work.” Reluctantly letting go of her breast, Ben headed out the door.

* * *

It was an uneventful day for Ben at work. Normally, he enjoyed his work, but all he could think about was the various positions he would enjoy Ellen in when he got home. Despite their ten year marriage, they still enjoyed sex multiple times a day. Not only had they vowed to never stray from one another, they vowed to keep that part of their life together active.

His day at the office wasn’t the only boring thing, even his trip to the coffeehouse was rather bland. He had been hoping to see another slutty looking girl, like the one he had a faint recollection of from the day before. He loved going to that coffee shop and checking out the local coeds while he pretended to read his paper. Usually there were quite a few lookers, but he couldn’t tell if it was his desire to see the whore again, but he was disappointed in the offerings.

Ellen knew of his daily “sightseeing” trips as they called them. Some days she would even join him there and do a little looking of her own. They had taken vows saying their genitals wouldn’t stray, not their eyes. They even found it helpful; they gleaned fashion tips and ideas to keep each of them attractive to one another. Ben wholeheartedly believed it was the secret to their passionate sex and loving marriage.

At 4:30, Ben decided to cut out of work a little early and go home to surprise Ellen. He was pulling his car out of the company lot, when he saw a coed wondering the street. She looked rather lost and Ben felt he should be the good Samaritan and offer to give her directions. Plus, he figured, she might be cute.

He pulled his car up to the curb next to her and rolled the passenger window down. “You lost?” he asked.

The coed leaned forward and her appearance changed; it was the slut from the day before. Ben’s dick got hard as he stared at her exposed cleavage in her low cut top.

“Yeah, I’m fucking lost. Are you man enough to show me my way?”

Even Ben knew how cheesy he was being when he responded, “I can show you the way to heaven, doll. Hop on in.”

The girl opened the door and slid in next to him. He looked at her massive chest contained in a shirt that was more of a bra with sleeves. It covered her breasts from the nipples down to just under their curve, leaving all of her tanned tone stomach exposed. Around her waist, she wore a black belt with a large silver hoop buckle. Her torn low rise jeans were cut so low, that when she sat down and leaned over to close the door, he could see almost a quarter of her ass.

She leaned back and looked at Ben. “So, it’s $25 for a BJ, $50 for a fuck, and $75 to do me in the ass.”

Ben pulled out his wallet and tossed her a $100. “We’ll start with the blow job while I take us some where a little more private.”

Pulling his dick out of his pants, the whore leaned over and started sucking. Ben put his right hand on her head and drove them down several back alleys until he pulled up behind a closed grocery store. He pulled her off his crotch and slid his seat back.

“Mount me,” he told her.

Angling herself so she could fit all of his large dick in her pussy, she slid down on him. He pulled her top down and fondled her tits, perfect in their roundness. She bounced up and down on him and he timed his thrusts to meet her on the up and down.

She was wild and passionate, Ben could tell she was enjoying herself, but not to the lengths he’d pleasured her in his dream yesterday. Through her moans, she said, “It’s an extra $100 to cum in me.”

Not wanting to fork over the extra cash, he threw her into the passenger seat and did his best to shoot his load on her chest. “Fucker! You got my shirt dirty. I’m not giving you your change from that $100.”

“Eh, it was worth it,” Ben said. “Thanks for joining me in my ride.”

Pulling her top back up, the girl opened the door and got out. She leaned back into the window. “Except for the cum on my shirt, I’d ride with you anytime.” She stood up and wandered off.

The sexual glow Ben was feeling soon faded out. What had he done? How could he have cheated on his wife with a hooker? He had no reason to. He knew Ellen would be ready to jump him when he got home, that was one thing he loved about their relationship. She was ready to fuck above all else.

And the girl he was chosen. Sure, Ellen had small implants, but they still looked real. That girl’s balloons would never be confused with anything natural. The sex had been fantastic, but now the come down was tearing him apart. He’d never be able to face his love.

Hanging his head in shame, Ben started his car and headed home. He rode in silence reflecting on his mistake and wondering if he would be able to hide his infidelity from Ellen. They had taken a vow and he had betrayed it.

Opening the door to his place, Ben sighed. “I’m home.”

Ellen came running to the door naked and jumped on him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and deeply kissed him. “Welcome back. Now fucking take me!”

Ben didn’t think it was possible, but his member got stiff again and he dropped Ellen on the kitchen table. He pulled her close to the edge so that her cunt was almost hanging over. He squatted down and dove into her with his mouth.

Almost immediately, Ellen started moaning. “Oh, god! You’re tongue is so good. Yes! Lick me there.” It didn’t occur to either of them that this was Ben’s first time with oral sex.

He stood up and let his pants fall to the floor. Ben rubbed his stiff eight inch erection against her moist lips.

“Come on! Stick the cock in me and fuck me hard!”

The table violently shook as Ben gave all his worth. Already he was justifying his betrayal of Ellen earlier in the day. Her tits: they were too small. He wanted her to get at least 700cc implants, but she’d refused and only gotten 400cc. They were the size of baseballs, but they still looked too real. He wanted her to have those tits that screamed “I’m fake!” Her clit: it still wasn’t pierced. Sure, she had agreed and gotten her tongue done (which felt great when she gave him one of her legendary blow jobs), but he wanted something down south. And her tramp stamp: he’d begged for her to get “slut” done down there, but she’d gone with some swoopy pattern.

Ellen reached a taloned hand down and started rubbing her clit. “Fuck your dick fills me up! Pound me! Fuck me! Make me your bitch!” She was always vocal during sex. “I’m cumming!” A little bit of ejaculation squeezed out around Ben’s dick. He couldn’t take it any more.

“I’m coming, too!”

“Cum on my tits! Cream me!”

Obeying her commands, Ben pulled out and shot rope after rope up jizz on her chest. She rubbed it in to her knockers and then licked her fingers clean. Rolling over, she picked up the pack of cigarettes on the table, took one out and lit it. “You’re fucking brilliant. A sex god,” she told Ben.

He smiled at her. “I wanna watch your video.”

“Oh, your pervert! Okay. You go set it up and I’ll order us a pizza for dinner.”

Ben walked into the living room and Ellen headed the other way to the kitchen. Sitting down at the entertainment system, he opened the cabinet and pulled out a “Girls Gone Wild” tape. Shortly after Ellen had her tits done, they had taken a trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and she’d flashed anyone and everyone with a camera. They’d fucked like bunnies for hours in their hotel afterwards.

Then, one eventful late sex-filled night, they’d turned the TV on and low and behold, she was one of the main girls displayed in the commercial. They’d ordered several copies and had worn threw a couple already. Those tapes were the only reason they still had a VCR.

Ellen came bounding into the room in a T-shirt that cut off at her mid riff and a pair of short shorts. “It’ll be here in 30,” she said.

Sitting down next to him, she started stroking his deflated cock. He pushed play on the remote and they watched all the rowdy party girls flashing the cameras. Ben soon got hard again and Ellen continued to stroke him. Something was off about his cock. It didn’t look big enough in her hands.

Pulling the coffee table drawer open, where they kept their stationary supplies, Ben grabbed the ruler. He put it to the base of his cock and measured. Seven inches.

“What’s the mater, babe?” Ellen asked.

“I don’t know, I have this feeling that up to two days ago I had a nine inch dick.”

“Nine fucking inches?! No, if you had one that massive, I’d never take it out of my cunt.” Seeing Ben’s disappointed look, she quickly added, “Seven inches is still quite a lot for me. Bigger than average and it feels so good in my tight pussy.” As if to change the conversation, Ellen took Ben in her mouth and started blowing him.

She expertly used her tongue and piercing, stroking the stud up the sensitive side of his shaft. She was still giving him head when the doorbell rang. Lifting her head up with a pop, she whipped her lips. “That’s the pizza. I’ll go get it.”

When she came back, the bottom of her shirt was resting on the top of her exposed tits. A pang of jealousy shot through him. It was one thing to flash strangers in a town far away, it was another to flash delivery guys on your doorstep for a discount. They had taken vows, vows that he had broken earlier. He stuffed his jealousy down.

“How much did you get off?”

“Just half. He said it’d be free if I blew him, but I just paid and sent him on his way.” She brought the pizza over and sat on the couch. Ben pulled her shirt off and stripped her of her shorts. The pizza was cold by the time they got to it.

DAY 3

Thursday morning, Ben quickly silenced his alarm and got up before he disturbed his sleeping wife. Her bleached cum crusted hair framed her overly made up face. With all the fucking they’d done last night, neither of them had had time to take a shower.

Ben was still amazed that after five years of marriage that the two of them were still so passionate about each other. His buddies said marrying the bar tender at their favorite hole was a mistake and they’d be divorced within the year. Sure, she was a bit of a gold digger, but they loved each other and the sex was phenomenal; it helped that she was ten years his junior and had an overly active libido.

When he went back into the bedroom after his shower, Ellen was sitting up in bed smoking. Her knees were pulled up into her chest with the sheets draped over them. She ashed her cigarette and waved at Ben.

“Morning, sexy.”

“Morning, stud.”

Opening a dresser drawer, Ben pulled out some underwear and socks. “How’d your job search go yesterday?”

“So, so. No one’s really looking for an ex bar-tending high school grad.”

“Sorry to hear that. I asked around but none of my firm’s clients are looking either.”

Ellen stubbed her cigarette out and climbed out of bed. “It figures. I’ll find something.”

Fully dressed, Ben headed out to the kitchen and Ellen, still covered in sex, followed him. After grabbing a bagel and pouring a glass of orange juice, Ben handed his wife the bottle of juice and she filled a glass half full. Then, she topped it off with vodka.

While Ben munched on his breakfast, Ellen slowly drank hers. “You know,” she said, “I was wanting some new shoes today. Would you mind if I went down to the mall and did some shopping?”

Ben brushed his hands off in the sink, then pulled out his wallet. He only had a couple hundred in cash, so he pulled out his platinum American Express card and handed it to her. “Try to keep it under a thousand.”

“A thousand? I can’t get anything for that.” Ellen pouted and rubbed her breast against his arm.

“Okay, fine. But no more than two.”

She gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

“OK! Five. No more than $5,000.”

Ellen beamed. “Thanks sweetie.” She kissed his cheek and adjusted his tie. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

“Thanks. Oh, and if you have time, would you mind cleaning up around the house a bit?” he asked, then gave her a peck on her cheek and headed out to work. With his back turned, he missed the glare she gave him in response.

After his dismal performance at work the day before, Ben was determined to put in good billing hours, especially since he knew Ellen was probably going to blow seven grand shopping today. Since marrying Ellen, he hadn’t put as much effort into his work and the backlog was getting to him. By the time lunch rolled around, his hands and eyes were almost useless from exhaustion.

As he drove off in his luxury car, he headed in the opposite direction of his normal haunt. He needed more stimuli than the coffeehouse would provide. Ten minutes later, Ben pulled into the closest strip joint to his office and parked his car in back, out of sight.

The place had just opened and aside from Ben, only a few alcoholics littered the place. They all hung out in the shadows, avoiding eye contact. Ben ordered a sandwich from the bar girl and sat back in his dark booth. The girl who was on was just finishing her routine and it was obvious why she had been given the day shift.

No one had thrown any money on the stage for her so she the only thing she had to gather up was her clothes. The DJ asked everyone to give it up for Taylor, but no one clapped. The next girl who came out looked like she would be just as miserable. She was wearing a pullover for the local university and had a deer in headlight look about her. There was no hint of sexuality about her: her body had no shape, no form, and she bumbled about the stage. She did have an innocent feel, something that seemed familiar to Ben. Despite the lack luster performance he knew he was about to witness, he was interested.

When the girl ripped her pullover off to reveal a giant pair of implants in a shelf bra, Ben’s dick sprang to life. Her whole performance changed. She oozed sexuality. Every step she took looked like she was slowly stalking her lover. She swung and dry humped the pole like she was actually having sex with it.

Leaving his sandwich, Ben went down to the stage and started tossing bills at her. The only things the stripper had left on were her g-string panties and her platform heels. She gracefully strutted over to dance in front of him and he tossed some more ones on the stage for her. The girl scissored her legs opened and close in front of him and he could see her moist lips poking out around the thin string of her underwear. She was getting sexual excitement out of dancing.

Ben pulled a $100 out of his wallet and she went spread eagle in front of him. He slid the bill into her panties on top of her cunt and as he did so, stuck a couple of fingers into her slit. He pulled them out and the stripper leaned forward and wrapped her collagen enhanced lips around his fingers and licked her juices off of them.

Her song ended and Ben went back to his sandwich. He’d never consider cheating on Ellen, but if there were any girl that he would, that stripper would be her. Ben checked his watch to see if he could figure out if he’d have time to catch another one of her shows. It didn’t look good.

Just then, someone sat down next to him.

“Hey, stranger,” she said.

Little Ben rose to attention. “Hi,” he stumbled.

“Thanks for the great tip.”

“My pleasure. A show that hot deserves its rewards.”

The stripper reached over and massaged his erection through his pants. “If you think that’s hot, how about a private show?”

Ben gulped. “A private show?”

“Yeah, we’ve got some rooms in the back. How’s $300 sound?”

Did Ben really want to do that? Could he cheat on his love and actually pay for it? He looked at the stripper in her scant clothing. She was still rubbing his leg. He had to have her. “Let’s go.”

Smiling, the girl got up and Ben followed her through the club, past a big bouncer, and down a dark hallway. She sat him in a chair placed in the middle of an otherwise empty room.

“Got the cash?”

Ben pulled out three bills and gave them to the girl.

She looked up at the video camera in the corner and walked around so that she was standing under it. “For an extra $100, you can do anything to me.”

There was no hesitation as Ben pulled his last hundred out of his wallet and gave it to her. The red light on the camera went off, and so did Ben. There was no strip show. There was no lap dance or foreplay. There was just Ben’s seven inches buried into her.

He was mesmerized by the dirtiness of it, cheating on his wife with a strange girl, fucking her on the floor of a strip club for $400, the way her artificial body and piercings shook with his thrusts. Men who believed in monogamy were fools. Fucking around was heaven.

As the girl cleaned his shaft off from his cum and her juices, Ben looked at his watch. It was already 1:30. He needed to get back to the office and put in some more hours. He got dressed and thanked the cum covered stripper for the good time.

Unlike that morning, Ben didn’t have the motivation to do any real work all afternoon. He had a desire, a hunger, to fuck his wife with his dirty philandering cock. He checked the clock every five minutes, hoping that it would tell him it was five o’clock. Like the day before, by the time it was 4:30, Ben was already heading out the door.

He pulled into his driveway then entered his messy house. Dishes were piled high in the sink and the laundry overflowed from the bathroom. As Ben made his way through the various items scattered on the floor to the living room, he could hear the sound of fucking. His heart dropped. Was Ellen having an affair?

Ben was both relieved and excited by what greeted him. Ellen was spread out nude on the couch, working a large dildo in and out of her pussy. A home video they had made together was playing on the TV. Ben’s cock was working in and out of his young wife’s snatch while one of her expensively manicured nails worked her clit, much like she was doing now with the dildo.

She hadn’t noticed him come in, so he dropped his pants, threw off his shirt, and walked over with his stiff member leading the way. When she finally caught sight of him, she jumped then cooed. She let the dildo fall out of her slit and took her man in her mouth. Ben wondered if she could taste his betrayal. He hoped she could.

“Get on the couch,” he told her.

She laid back and played with herself while he positioned himself over her. Ben pressed the head of his dick against her lower lips and slid himself up and forward, so that his head rubbed up the length of her, over her enlarged clit and onto her stomach. With his balls pressed against her pussy, his dick extended well past her belly button.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I’ve been read since I woke up.”

Ben put himself inside of her and started pumping. He wasn’t thinking of his wife, he was thinking of his afternoon tryst. He imagined Ellen with that girl’s giant tits. As if his imagination was effecting reality, Ellen’s breasts started inflating. They looked like someone had roughly stuffed softballs under her flesh. The sight made Ben lose control and he pulled out and came on her new tits.

Ellen opened her eyes and squirmed under him. “You can’t be fucking serious. I need more than that.”

“Your tits, they just grew!”

Reaching up and massaging one of her jugs, Ellen said. “I’ve had these things since right after I dropped out of high school. I had them when we met at the strip club four years ago and they’re the same ones from when we got married three years ago.”

The memories of meeting Ellen while she waited tables at the strip joint he regularly visited came floating up to him. He’d fallen in love with her fake D cup tits, sex with her, and then her personality in that order. She’d fallen in love with his steady stream of cash. His friends said he shouldn’t marry a gold digger twelve years his younger, but he was happy he ignored them.

The Ellen on the TV moaned as one of her exes pounded into her with his massive cock. Ben started getting hard again. He grew out to just below her belly button. “Do you ever miss fucking dicks that big?”

Grabbing her husband back and aiming his shaft at her still hungry hole, Ellen shook her head. “No, you’re enough. I just need you to fucking last longer.”

She was referring to Ben’s recent lack of stamina. As if to put an exclamation point on it, she rocked back and forth a couple of times and he exploded into her. Ellen sighed and dismounted him. Cum was drooling down her leg.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

She picked up her smokes and lit one up. She exhaled and said, “Fucking whatever. Wanna see some of the new outfits I got?”

“Sure.” He watched her ass waggle out of the room. Just above it in the tramp stamp spot was her calligraphic tattoo that read “Sex!”

While he waited for her, he watched the amateur porn that she’d made with all of her boyfriends until Ben and she had met. The Ellen on the screen was raving about which ever boyfriend it was filling her with his giant cock.

Several minutes later, Ellen came back in a leopard print dress. The top tied behind her neck, leaving her arms and most of her torso bear. Two thin straps of cloth hung loosely down the middle of her tits, leaving plenty of flesh available for ogling. The fabric covered about an inch on each side of her nipples, and too much movement (like dancing) would cause the fabric to shift and expose them. The artificial curve of her cleavage was plainly visible, even the round curve of the outside of her tits was left available for viewing.

The bottom half of the dress stopped just below the curve of her ass. She spun around to show Ben the back, or rather the lack there of. In the back, the bottom part of the dress didn’t start until just below her tattoo. In all, the dress hid enough to be tantalizing, but exposed way to much to be close to decent wear.

She accessorized with a diamond necklace that sparkled in the light, making sure attention was properly focused on her chest. Her feet were encased in ankle high cream boots. They had to have been at least one inch platforms with six inch spikes. The lift accentuated the muscle definition in her thin, bare legs.

“Damn! You look hot.”

Some how, she managed to do a twirl on those heels. “Don’t I, though? Go get dressed. I wanna go clubbing!”

Ben walked past his young wife and squeezed her ass. He ran to the bed room and squeezed into a designer shirt and slacks, his expanding gut rested on top of his belt. He styled his thinning hair then went and joined Ellen. “Let’s go,” he said and leaned in to kiss her.

Ellen ducked him. “Don’t you’ll smear my makeup.”

Even though it was a Thursday night, there was a line outside the door of the club they went to. Ellen confidently strutted up to the bouncer. He opened the rope for her and put up his hand to stop Ben. Ben put a folded up $100 in the man’s breast pocket and patted it. “I’m with her.” The bouncer waved him through.

The couple walked over to the bar and the bar tender came running over when he saw Ellen. Ben held up two fingers and said, “Two martinis and a beer.” He soon came back with them. Ellen drank the martinis like she was doing shots, and Ben ordered her a third before the keep could wander away.

“After I finish my next drink,” Ellen yelled over the pounding music, “let’s go dance!”

Ellen finished her third drink and Ben downed the remainder of his beer. He let his wife lead him out to the dance floor and they started to move. Half way through their second song, a large muscular black man shoved Ben out of the way. “I’m cutting in,” he told Ben.

What Ellen and her new dance partner started doing couldn’t be called dancing. The strange man’s hands roved her body groping her everywhere, while she melted in his touch and dry humped him. Ben just stood and watched.

After the song ended, the black man took Ellen’s hand and lead her off to the stairs leading up to the VIP room. Ben followed behind them. Once they got to the stairwell, the stranger put his hand on Ellen’s ass and pushed her up.

They walked past the bouncer at the door and let it shut past them. The bouncer stepped in front of Ben and put his hand up. Ben pulled a folded $100 out of his pocket and said, “I’m with them.”

The bouncer didn’t move. “No, you’re not.”

Ben added another $100. “Yes, I am.”

The large man gave the money in Ben’s hand a disdainful look. “You can keep adding all night, but you’re not going to get in there.”

Two well built white guys came up the stairs behind Ben and the bouncer shoved him to the side to make way for them. He opened the door and let them pass through. While it was open, Ben could see into the luxurious VIP room. It was mostly empty except for a couple of men and his wife.

Her top had been undone and she was deep in a passionate kiss with the man she’d been dancing with. He was roughly fondling one of her tits while she stroked the outline of his large cock. Then, the door closed shut.

“That’s my wife!” Ben cried.

“I don’t fucking care if it’s your mom, sister, and Jesus. Get the fuck out of here.” The bouncer spun Ben around and pushed him towards the stairs.

Defeated, Ben slowly lumbered down them. His wife was cheating on him. She was going to fuck that black guy and possibly several others. The image of them filling her with their cocks projected across his mind. A mix of emotions ran though him. What hurt most was Ben was helpless to stop it. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he went and did the only thing he could do. He went to the men’s room and masturbated.

For several hours, Ben sat at the bar alone, drinking beer. He could see the stairs to the VIP room from where he sat. All night various men went up and down the stairs, some times alone, other times leading scantily clad women up. He hadn’t seen Ellen come down once. The bar tender came over to tell Ben it was last call when she finally did reappear.

Ellen came down the stairs on wobbly legs. She had a drug and alcohol induced glazed look on her face. Her bleached hair was tangled and matted together. Her makeup was smeared across her face. When Ben got to her, he could smell the sex and dried cum on her through the smoke. He put her arm on his shoulder and helped her down.

“My fucking pussy is so sore! But damn was that fun.”

Ben didn’t respond, he just took her to the exit. Before they reached the door, the black man that had taken her to the VIP room caught up with them and grabbed Ellen.

“El-sluto! Here’s that shit for the road.” He handed her a bag of white powder, then grinned at Ben and mauled one of her tits before going in for a kiss.

Ellen giggled when the man returned her to Ben. “Get it?” she asked in her stupor. “My name’s Ellen and I’m a slut, so they all like called me El-sluto like I’m a Mexican.”

Again, Ben said nothing. He didn’t correct the bad Spanish, he didn’t comment on her being called a slut, he just got them to their car and plopped Ellen in the passenger seat. He got in the driver side and started the car.

“Thanks for being so fucking cool,” she slurred. She leaned over and fumbled with his zipper and pulled out his stiff dick. As inebriated as she was, her blow job was sloppy and uncoordinated. It still didn’t take long before Ben shot his load into her mouth. Ellen passed out with her head in his lap, drooling his semen back out on to his cock and into his pants.

DAY 4

Ellen was sprawled out on the bed when Ben woke up. Her fake breasts were twin mountains and a valley under the sheets. He thought about last night. The shame of knowing that his wife had pleasured numerous men in the VIP room strangely excited him. He wanted to be angry, but what right did he have? First, he’d cheated on Ellen earlier in the day, then he’d failed to sexually satisfy her. Plus, hadn’t he married her for her looks and wild spirit?

Instead of getting angry, he threw the covers off her and buried himself in her. Even asleep she was moist and wet. He rutted in and out of her a few times and the pulled out and came on her chest. Ellen didn’t wake up once.

Ben got dressed and headed into the kitchen. He sighed at the dirty mess and fished out a bowl. He washed it and dried it then poured himself some cereal. After finishing, he put the dish back in the sink and got a pad of paper. He wrote Ellen a note:

Ellen, won’t be home till late to night, I have that bachelor’s party tonight. Feel free to go out shopping with some friends or something. Just use the Visa, the Amex is maxed out. We’re still on for out big 3rd anniversary tomorrow night. I’ve got something really special planned. Can’t wait to see you when I get home.

PS. If you don’t mind, would you clean up around the house some?

He left it under her cigarettes, the one place he knew for sure she would see it and headed out the door.

Work that morning sped through. Maybe it was sexually sating himself that morning, or the ever amounting debt Ellen pilled on him, but he worked with a determination he hadn’t felt in awhile.

At noon, he went to his usual lunch spot. He pulled his car into the front lot and strolled into the strip joint. Michelle was on the pole and Steph and Heather were working the floor. They were some of his favorite girls, but not the ones he was looking for. Ben headed over to the bar.

“Hey, Ben,” Doug said. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll go with a beer.”

Doug pulled a bottle out and pulled the top off. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

“Thanks. Hey, Doug. Is that new girl from yesterday in today?”

“Nah, she’s got the day off.”

“That’s a shame, she’s a hot one.”

“I’ll say.”

Ben ordered a sandwich and watched the girls perform. He didn’t approach the stage or pay any of the girls for a lap dance. He knew Ellen wasn’t going to cut back on expenses, so he figured he would have to start.

After finishing eating, Ben headed back to the office and started working. Unlike the last couple of days, he was focused in the afternoon. He worked through five o’clock and up till seven. His friend Jeremy calling finally broke him out of his trance.

“Hey, Ben! Where the hell are you?”

“Jer. Sorry, man. Just in the zone at work and completely lost track of time.”

“Work? Lame-o!”

“Ha, some of us have bills to pay.”

“Yeah, and some of us don’t have gold digging harpies for wives. Quit that boring shit and get your ass down to CW Hotel.”

“Aight, man. On my way.” Ben hung up his phone, turned off the lights and headed to his car. Alex’s bachelor party was being held in the penthouse of CW Hotel, the nicest hotel in town. Having it there would allow them to be wilder without disturbing anyone, and they could all stay there and wouldn’t have to worry about drunk driving.

Jeremy greeted Ben at the door when he finally arrived. His girthy framed slightly swayed back and forth. “Bout Goddamn time!” Ben’s balding friend slurred.

“Yeah? If you’re so happy to see me, where’s my beer?”

“Aw, fuck, thought you was the strippers.”

“Thanks for the loving welcome,” Ben said as he pushed past his doughy friend.

Most of the guys there were pretty drunk. It looked like a scene from their college days. Various groups were playing all sorts of drinking games, and whether he wanted to be or not, the man of honor, Alex, was the central figure in all of them. Those that noticed Ben’s arrival ragged on him for being late and forced him to down a beer before he could even give Alex a hug and congratulate him on his marriage.

Alex had glazed look in his eyes and couldn’t even keep them open for more than a couple of seconds. In the best of times he was a light weight, and tonight, before he could even finish one drink, it was replaced by four others. Ben was on his third beer when Alex disappeared into the bedroom and passed out.

Even though the main man was long passed out when the stripper showed up, those still standing quit their games and gathered in the main room for the show. She came dressed as a college student in a pullover. There were a few tsks of disappointment that she was too innocent, to kind looking to really put on a good show. Ben’s eyes were glued to her.

“So, who’s the lucky man?” she mumbled.

Jeremy immediately responded. “Him! This guy here!” he said, pointing at Ben.

The girl looked at him like she was Bambi and he was a semi hurling towards her. “Well, get ready to graduate!” the girl gripped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her gargantuan rack that should have been impossible to hide under her pullover. The only thing natural about them was the tight skin pulled over the saline implants. Little Ben sprang to attention as the stripper gave him hers.

She was giving Ben a lap dance when a second stripper appeared in a dainty vinyl police uniform. The large pilot sunglasses hid her face, but the outfit hugged her curves and accented them. She ripped her sunglasses off; it was Ellen. “What the hell is going on here?”

Ben’s stomach did flips; he was getting busted for getting a lap dance. How pissed would Ellen be? But could she really be pissed if she was here to strip? She stamped over to Ben and the stripper. She grabbed the stripper’s arm and pulled her off her husband. Ellen unzipped Ben’s pants and fished his six inches out. She then removed the other girl’s panties and said, “You were in violation of code!” Ellen pushed the girl’s wet pussy down onto her husband’s cock. “Proceed!”

Now that the dance had turned into full on sex, the girl started bouncing and moaning in earnest. It didn’t take long for Ellen to remove her plastic uniform to reveal her plastic figure underneath. “What’s a girl gotta do to get fucked around here?”

As Ben cheated on his wife, he watched as his friends took turns with her. Where the first stripper was only attending to Ben, Ellen was taking multiple men at once. Jeremy, Ben’s best friend, fucked his wife from behind while she blew someone else and jacked off a third guy. It was too much for Ben to take and he pushed the girl riding him off and cummed in her face. Rodger, one of Ben’s stronger and more athletic friends, picked her up and threw her on the sofa. He started having his way with her and a couple more guys waiting around went and joined him.

Despite having just blown his load, Ben was still erect and felt like he was posessed. He needed to stick his wet cock in he wife’s cunt. Jeremy unloaded inside of her and Ben shoved the waiting people away and pulled Ellen into the bedroom.

He threw her down next to the unconscious body of Alex and proceeded to enter her. He could feel Jeremy’s sperm gushing out around his dick. Maybe it was the sloppy seconds or the fact he knew after he was done with her, she’d go back to fucking his friends, but Ben soon shot his load into her. He pulled out and a large piercing appeared going through her clit. It matched the new nipple rings she had. Above her shaven pussy a tattoo that read, “Also available in brown eye” appeared.

“God dammit, Ben. And you wonder why I cheat. I bet this passed out dude could outlast you.” As if to prove her point, she undid his pants and sucked him hard. She mounted him and started counting. “One, two, three, you just came, four, five, six, seven, eiiight! I just came! Nine...”

“You should probably leave Alex out of this. He’s getting married and you know Saori is the jealous type.”

“The fuck do I care about that uptight cunt? I’m probably giving Alex the ride of his life. Too bad he’s not awake to enjoy it. Look little dick, why don’t you run off and tell some other guys to come in here. This guy’s finished.” Ellen stood up and a lot of the accumulated cum from her pussy drooled out onto Alex’s soft furry stomach. “Now!” she barked.

Ben headed out into the other room, “That one’s open!” He yelled and pointed to the bed room. Several guys who had finished or hadn’t had a turn yet went in to make use of Ben’s wife. Jeremy came over to Ben and handed him a fresh drink.

Putting his are around Ben, Jeremy said, “This is going to be one fucking great night.”

DAY 5

The next morning, Ben woke up alone in his bed. His head was pounding and he tried to recall some of the previous night’s events but came up blank. He rolled out of bed and got up. He waded through impractically tall high heels, overly revealing dresses, and bras that could have doubled as parachutes had they been less frilly.

He rubbed his bleary eyes and walked through the living room. It was as much of a disaster area as the bedroom. Porn DVDs and drug paraphernalia littered the room. Ben had a vague memory of coming home alone and smoking some pot while watching one of his wife’s pornos.

Today was their one year anniversary. Ben loved his wife even though she openly hated him and readily let it be known that she was only with him for the money. He felt that through perseverance she would finally come around to loving him as much as he loved her. He was hoping that today would help his cause.

The first surprise that he had planned for her was a spotless house. He hoped that he could get the place clean before she showed back up from whatever, or whoever, it was she was doing. As efficient in cleaning as he was at his job that afforded him the luxury of getting Ellen in the first place, within two hours, Ben had the entire house cleaned.

He laid out the jewelry case that contained the second part of his anniversary surprise. It was a diamond studded necklace with a bunny charm. The ears twisted off the head and had a small spoon attached to them. The head itself was hallow so Ellen could keep her coke supply around her neck and be able to take a hit whenever she wanted.

Ben showered and shaved and sat in the kitchen waiting. It was close to noon. Would she even be awake yet? He gave her cell phone a ring, but it went to her voice mail. There was something wrong with her message though. Her normal message, “Leave your number and I’ll fuck you later,” had been replaced by a sweet sounding girl who said, “Hi there. This is Ellen. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”

The last five days off Ben’s life came crashing down on him. He remembered his demure wife of 20 years as she was, not as the now 20 year old whore that treated him like shit. He remembered his affairs and the changes it brought about her, making her younger and sluttier until she was nothing but a living fuck doll. He had to find her. He had to do something to save her.

Bolting from the kitchen, Ben ran out the door and flew over to his friend Jeremy’s place. Hoping that Jeremy would have some idea where Ellen had gone to after the party, he banged on the door. There was no answer. Ben banged again. He could hear the sounds of high heels on tile, then the door opened revealing a woman as fake and trashy looking as Ellen now was. Her prosthetic tits and smooth skin where hidden by a see-through teddy that went down to her pierced belly button. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

Ben somehow recognized her cosmetically enhanced face. “Amber?” he asked Jeremy’s wife.

“Bennie? Oh my god! Jeremy’s like going to be so glad you’re here. He was saying we needed another dick to shut my fucking mouth. Jeremy! Bennie’s here!”

Ben was too shocked to say anything. The Amber he remembered was a journalism professor at the university. Now she looked like she couldn’t read a newspaper even if it was a book on tape. He didn’t think he cold be anymore shocked, then the male Adonis that was Jeremy stepped into the doorway.

He was completely naked and his sweaty muscles shimmered in the light. Below his rippling six pack, his mammoth cock hung like an elephant’s trunk between his legs. “Hey! LD! What’re you doin’ here?”

“I...uhhh...”

Jeremy turned to his tart wife. “You don’t want this guy, you bimbo. I don’t know if you’d be able to find his little dick. That’s why we call him ‘LD’.”

“But it must be so cute! I love little things. It’d be like a mini cock.”

Ben ignored the insults. “Did you see where Ellen went after the party?”

Jeremy snapped his fingers and Amber obediently knelt down and started pleasuring Jeremy’s manhood. “Nah, the fine slut of yours was still there when I left. Ask that other geek, you know that loser you can never go with out, what’s his face...starts with an R...Ropert?”

“You mean Rodger?”

“Yeah, that queer fuck. He was still there filming shit when I left. He really seemed to have the hots for that fine piece of ass that’s waisting herself on you.”

Not bothering to close the do or to wonder what had happened to his former best friend, Ben headed over to Rodger’s place. He rang the door bell and an old lady came to the door.

“What do you want? We ain’t buying.”

“Umm, is Rodger here?”

The old woman glared at Ben. “Rodger! One of your nerdy fat friends is here.”

A couple of seconds later, a much shorter and 100 pounds heavier than Ben remembered Rodger came to the door. He was wearing a Star Wars T-shirt that stretched over his man boobs and belly. “Hey, Ben! Man, that was some party last night! I got it all on tape if you wanna come in and watch. I’m uploading it to the net now.”

The old woman who’d answered the door screamed, “Close the goddamn door, Rodger! I’m not paying to cool the fucking outside.”

“Shut up, Ma!” Rodger yelled, but stepped outside and closed the door anyway.

“Rodger, did you see my wife leave the party?”

“Aw man, you’re wife is so fucking hot! I’ve downloaded all of her movies. I can’t believed you’re married to that! Think you could arrange for me to have her again? After I did that one girl then your wife, I was so busy filming that I totally missed out on the chance of doing either of them again.”

Ben hoped Rodger wouldn’t have the chance. He wanted to get his old wife back, which would make Rodger’s request impossible. “I don’t know,” he lied,“but it’s really important that I find her. Did you see her leave?”

“Oh, yeah, she took Alex home. She was pretty pissed at you and was going on about showing that cunt of a fiance that he has what a real woman was good for.”

“Thanks,” Ben said and turned and ran off.

Alex’s place wasn’t too far from Rodger’s. He didn’t hope to find Ellen at Alex’s but he hoped he’d be able to find a clue. He knocked on the door and Soari answered it. The petite Japanese girl was wearing some loose jeans and a yellow camisole. When she saw Ben, she immediately smacked his face.

“Keep that fucking slut wife of yours away from my man.”

Ben’s eyes brightened. “She was here?”

“Yes, she brought Alex home and said she’d show me how to fuck him proper. I kicked her ass out of here and I’m going to do the same to you.”

“Did she say where she’s going? Does Alex know?”

“Alex is still passed out from whatever you asshole gave him at the party last night. Now fuck off.”

Not wanting to upset Saori any more, Ben turned and walked away. That was his last lead and he had no idea where to go. Wracking his brain for anything, he kept going back to the day in the coffee shop with the arguing couple. There was something about it that seemed important. It came to him in a flash; that man had made a bet with him.

As fast as he could, Ben drove downtown to the coffeehouse. It was pretty crowded and he had to fight his way to the counter. When he got there, he could see why. The large busted barista had her shirt open and was adding cream to coffee by milking her right tit.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a guy that was in here a few days ago.”

“What’s he look like?” the coffee girl asked without looking up.

Ben paused. He had no idea. All he could think of was it was a man. “I don’t know.”

“Well, if you don’t know, then it’s gonna be hard for me to know who you’re talking about. What color hair did he have?”

“I don’t know.”

“What color was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look buddy, 99% of people in line for my homemade coffee and milk are male. If you can’t remember anything, order some coffee and tit milk or wait for me to go on break in 5 and fuck me in the ass to help get whatever stick was shoved up it out. Until then sod off and let me work.”

Ben backed away from the counter and his phone rang. His heart raced. Was it Ellen calling him back? No, it was Alex.

“Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey, Ben. Mind coming over for a bit? Saori has something she wants to tell you.”

“Does she know where Ellen is?”

“No, but come on over. It’s important.”

Ben hung up his phone and headed back to Alex’s. He rang the doorbell and the engaged couple came to the door. Gone were Saori’s shirt and jeans. She now wore a child’s size kimono. The front couldn’t properly close over the implants she didn’t have just 30 minutes ago. The kimono exposed more of her tit flesh than it hid. The bottom of it stopped just below her crotch line.

Alex was no longer the hairy, pudgy man Ben remembered. He was shirtless and his well toned body could have rivaled that of Jeremy’s. The only thing he wore was a pair of boxer-briefs that left the impression he was packing some serious meat. His bulging arms were crossed over his chest.

When she saw Ben, Saori sank to her knees and prostrated herself in front of him. The hem of the kimono rode up, exposing her pantie-less ass. “I’m so terribly sorry for how poor I treated you after how much honor you blessed on my master at your party.”

“Hey, Ben. I’m sorry, too, about how my bimbo treated you. That was a fucking awesome party. I told her no matter how geeky my friends are she’s to treat them with respect.”

“Alex? What happened?”

“Dude? You mean you don’t remember the party either? All I remember was a great time and occasionally waking up with that killer wife of yours riding my johnson every now and then. I was so hot from it that when I woke up, I took my little bimbo here and fucked her right good. Then she told me what she did to you and I just had to have her apologize.”

“Do you know where Ellen went?”

“Nah, sorry, LD. I don’t. You better keep that cash flowing though or she’s gonna dump you for a better cock or someone with the green. You’ll never be able to replace a hot piece of ass like that, especially with your little dick and balding head.”

Still in her crouched position, Saori said, “Master, do I blow him now?”

“Nah, you’re talents would be wasted on him.”

Saori stood up. The act of bowing to Ben had caused the arms of the kimono to slip down and her chest was now exposed. Alex licked his lips and started fondling his fiance. Without so much as a goodbye, he closed the door in Ben’s face.

Without any other leads or ideas, Ben headed home. He had been so cocksure that he could keep his dick out of that coed turned slut, but not only had he failed to not fuck her four times in four days, he’d fucked her six. Through the fog of alcohol from the previous night, he could remember taking her and his wife alternatively three times each.

He didn’t know what good it would do to find his wife, who he really should have been looking for was that man, but when the only thing Ben could remember about him was that he was male, it became an impossible task.

Ben wasn’t entirely surprised to come home to the sound of sex. Ellen’s skirt, if it was long enough to be called that, laid on top of a pair of sneakers. Soon after that was a light tan cardigan and the matching tan bra-shirt that Ellen would have worn underneath it. A little ways after that was a pair of large baggy jeans, an equally large T-shirt, and a pair of boxers.

Stepping into the living room, Ben found Ellen being fucked in the ass by the guy from the club. She was completely unrecognizable as the introverted shy girl he’d met and married in college twenty years ago.

First was the fact that she couldn’t have been more than twenty. The vibrancy of youth radiated under her heavily made up face. Her soft, kind eyes now had a hard predator’s look in them, as if ever man she saw was prey for her sexual appetite. Her hair, which she’d never done more than get cut, was bleached a bright blond and her roots were coming in.

The only time she’d ever worn more than sneakers was at their wedding, and even then she’d only warn one inch heels. Now her feet were encased in clear soled platform shoes with at least a seven inch heel. Her once formless legs were still in knee high stockings with a crisscrossing diamond pattern. They were toned and shaped as if she’d spent hours at the gym or dancing in clubs.

Her once blemish-free creamy white skin was now a deep tan and covered in provocative tattoos and piercings. Her natural beauty had been replaced by a surgeon’s touch. Her lips, nose, and chin weren’t the original one’s he’d fallen in love with. And her breasts. The monstrous things that shook on her chest as the black man’s rod smoothly plunged in and out of her ass left no doubt in their artificiality.

As Ben watched the scene in horror, someone clasped him on the back. “Damn, you did one fucking bang up job on that slut wife of yours.”

Looking next to him, Ben saw a man he didn’t recognize at first. Then, that fate-less day in the coffeehouse came back to him. “Please! You’ve proven your point! Change us back.”

“Ben. It was a bet, there’s no going back. I’m just impressed you lost so miserably. I haven’t seen someone do so poorly in ages.”

“I beg you!”

The man ignored Ben. “You even got your friends caught in it. Did you notice that the guys who fucked the coed first wound up like you, small dicked nerds? You friends who fucked your wife fist came out like you used to be, well with the loose moral exception and the fact I wouldn’t really call them your friends anymore, more like jocks that use you to fuck your wife.”

“It’s not too late.”

“But it is, Ben. The four days are officially up...” The guy looked at his watch. “Now!”

“I can’t live like this.”

“But you can and you will, Ben. In fact, as a consolation prize on failing so miserably, I’ll let you be successful enough that you’ll keep just ahead of your debt that Ellen there will pile up in surgery and shopping. Until you die of old age, or she dies of an OD. Enjoy.”

The man walked away, but he might as well have disappeared, taking away Ben’s memories of the bet and his old life. All Ben remembered was this reality. This was all he knew.

Picking up the video camera off the counter, he started recording and walked around the fucking couple.

“Fuck, little dick, at least knock before you come in. Ah shit. Put that fucking camera away.”

Ben ignored her and zoomed in on the large dick stretching her back door.

“Sorry about this, the fucking perv loves to film.”

“Not a problem,” her partner said, then filled her with his load. He pulled out of her and she licked him clean.

Smacking his ass, Ellen said, “Thanks for the fuck. Tell your friends.”

“Anytime, bitch.” The black man left the married couple alone.

Ben set the video camera down but didn’t stop recording. He got up and handed Ellen the box containing her anniversary present.

“The fuck’s this?”

“Happy one year wedding anniversary!”

“You’re such a girl.”

“I was hoping that maybe we could spend a romantic night together or something.”

Ellen opened the box and looked at the necklace. She tossed it aside without comment. “I’ll tell you what. For our anniversary, you can clear the fuck out tonight. I want to have an orgy here. Oh and for your present, you can clean my ass out.”

Elated that she was allowing him to touch her for free, Ben dove in. He glanced at the camera and smiled. Rodger would definitely trade him some good stuff for this video. Life was good.

[zionyife952-blog]

Rumored Buzz On Car Wash Dublin

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[dear238-blog]

Dating Is Not Made To Order - May 13, 2017

Searching for a mate would be nice if all you had to do was type in tall, dark, rich, handsome, funny, easy going, family oriented, strong, assertive, talented, yadda, yadda, yadda. Click send and the following men pop up under your choices to pick from: Matthew McConaughey, Keith Urban, Morris Chestnut, Jesse Williams, and Justin Trudeau. “Yah, likely not going to happen…ever. Hmm…. Do you see the problem? These people are either married or unavailable, making this an unrealistic expectation! Ok, let us consider a more realistic view. Why do we always want what we cannot have (i.e. someone’s husband, wife, boyfriend, or partner?) As painful as it is to say, you get what you give. Explain how in the hell do you expect to meet people like the ones you dream about if you are not first being honest with yourself? Understand everyone is attainable by some means because we are all, as John Legend sings… “Ordinary People.” Ordinary with different features and quirks that make us unique. Your hair may be longer, or you may be the next Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. I may have short hair, a belly, and wear a size 20. Externally we’re different even if you’re an identical twin. Internally, our human desire is to be loved. This is a universal commonality making every single one of us, no matter the language spoken, color of our skin, body type, level of education, or degree of wealth, we all share this need. Love may be simply having family accept your sexuality. Love your true self not the persona created to get a date, but the one created to keep a mate. In order to achieve this simple yet complex feat you must learn how to accept and fall in love with yourself. Women… love your hair, eyes, ears, nose, lips, teeth, chin and skin. Small, large, saggy, lopsided, stretch marked breast, back fat, love handles, flat ass, cellulite thighs, big feet, hammer toes, river bed heels — you know who you are. Non-porn Vaja-ja and hemorrhoids. This ugliness that you acknowledge is beautifully stunning through the eyes of another who will never understand how the most beautiful guy or girl in their mind is so hard on the person they love. Let’s face it people we live in a world were these issues can be changed through a little effort like exercise or a good diet plan and if that’s not enough money/skilled plastic surgeon will fix the rest. And yes, you can even have the Vaja-ja look porn star perfect. That one’s not for me, but I’m working on fixing the “girls!” Before I get haters saying, “I oppose plastics ”— save your comments. I am all about fixing, tucking, and/or expanding. God gave doctors the know-how, so in my book that means if you can pay — why not? In order to achieve this simple yet complex feat you must learn how to accept and fall in love with yourself. Men: Love your thinning hair, bald egg-shaped head, eyes, ears, nose, lips, teeth, chin, smile, grin, taco meat chest hair, man boobs, beer belly, grizzly bear hairy back, small penis, big droopy balls, chicken legs, stinky feet. And yes, you can even get a penile implant to elongate the Johnson. We are masters at beguilement, so much that we fool ourselves. What a frivolous society we have become. Back to the point- this is not done to body shame but to show how easy we — you — me — fixate on external features; thinking if this was bigger, smoother, thicker, longer, well you get the idea; right? It would be easier to get the person we daydream about IF only. Keith Urban, Morris Chestnut, Ruby Rose are my star crushes, this is ok because the stalker, insane, crazy fan, that’s going to live happily ever after with one of them is not a reality. Can I search online for Morris or Keith’s features — sure. Can my girl crush have boyish Ruby Rose’s features — sure. Online we can be whoever we want to be. Inputting a little bit of this, a little bit of that, mixing in the desired personality traits we think are attractive and hit enter. We do the same when we search for our ideal match. This is when we fall into the trap of searching for your Keith, Morris or Ruby. When the computer spits out our request it is often a watered down spliced version of the person fantasized about. When we put these expectations on another, we often overlook the unexpected. Remember; be honest with yourself and others. What have your online dating experiences been like? Use the comment section below. Quick Tip ~ Don’t miss an opportunity that’s in front of you! ©dear238.com

[zionyife952-blog]

The Ultimate Guide To Express Car Wash

Some say that Guido da Vigevano assembled the car in 1335 that utilized a windmill type assembly to drive a set of gears to turn the wheels. I would say that if that is the case, that he was also the first 1 to clean a car. Today the car wash/detailing marketplace is getting a multi-billion dollar market. Although why would you want to spend you hard earned income on needing a 1 else detail your vehicle? After you certainly could do it yourself, and be certain that it's done accurately as well as the manner in which you want. Besides I know a lot of car fanatic out those who would really like to depth their own cars themselves. Many men and women end right here and say if they reach this time they truly are done. They over look one of the most important steps in detailing and preserving a vehicle, and that is waxing. Now the marketplace is high in different types of services and products, but just how many of them get the job done? Most of the average cheap waxes include a part of wax inside them, and utilize petroleum. Services and products that are like this do quite modest in waxing and preserving the paint, when anything else they just squander money and your time. Be aware of the spray on wax. These waxes might give a few protection for a day or two, however nothing similar to the protection of the carnauba wax. Before you wax you require to eliminate any rust you may have. Typically, you will not have to achieve this every moment. Oxidation depends upon how far you really wax, even when you wax sun the car is exposed to, and other weather circumstances. Oxidation can ordinarily be taken off using a clear coating chemical. To chemical, that will be light however still harsh for coats you are able to measure up for finishes. You should seal off the paint afterwards, should you utilize the products. Once you're fulfilled, start the engine up permit it to operate for a little while with down the hood. Then remove and use a cone sprayed with all the de-greaser and wash down some parts. Now you can wipe down everything with a rubber dressing or shining product. Nevertheless, do not spray or wipe down your belts, and make sure you read any safety measures on the product. Now it's time for you to maneuver to the exterior of your car, well kind of, detailing your engineoptimization. You will require to cover any sensitive equipment such as electrical components. Try with a high quality aluminum foil to get this particular measure. If you take Additional info advantage of a home pressure washer because of it, be more careful, it is possible to dismiss water from regions that weren't supposed to acquire wet. I favor using a regular garden home for this particular measure. When you've sealed everything off, spray a heavy duty degreaser on to the temperature motor. Go through some warnings or precautions on the de-greaser. Work with a brush to receive any stubborn deposits. Then spray down making certain that that you get off the degreaser all. If you machine-buff the polish/wax into some higher luster, proceed with an orbital in place of a model, that would be more likely to burn off the paint. The rotary buffer is much faster than hands may damage paint. See to the plastic chrome as if it had been surface and safeguard it using a coat of wax. Try and not get anywhere on the dark components. If you dothen spray it with a mist and wash product and wash it down using a terrycloth towel. If that doesn't perform a detailer employ it and gave a peanutbutter to this as a hint: Microwave. Peanut butter oils dissolve the wax along with also its enough to raise the blot. If you receive yourself a polish/wax residue or in crevices, break from toothbrushes and the cotton swabs. After removing it all about and eradicate any excess from the cracks and emblems using a towel and brush. Diapers are great for buffing a glow up. Then proceed to the windows. If you are like me, then you despise cleaning windows for streaks' panic. Some pointers within this area are to don't spray right however on a rag. Take a sterile cloth prepared to wipe it all dry. You can even utilize newspaper to wipe it dry, the abrasiveness behaves like a polish also it won't leave any streaks. Make sure that you rinse your hands off until cleaning the chimney, this will assist remove any unwanted dressingoff. In the event you have window tint film, it may be degraded by cleaners that include ammonia or vinegar. Manufacturing facility tinting is in the glass and is not affected with these cleaners. You can repair holes and burns by cutting out the space with a razor blade. Then cut a similar size piece from a hidden spot, like underneath the seat, and cement it. By cleaning the mended part combine. You might even visit a carpet outlet and certainly will get a carpeting sample for price which will match the carpet of the vehicle. You can shampoo it to get out any dirt and dirt, if a carpeting is looking bad. You are able to rent these machines at a carpet shop and on occasion even you nearby series. Focus on the carpets around the driver's side the seats; this retains the warmth. Until you are done move the whole car. Make sure you read any precautions against the manufacturer. Once decades of expertise and talking with some of the best product/technical agents available today, I've compiled a method to direct for car or truck owners who want to get that work. This manual is designed for several automobile lovers on all levels. You might be a newcomer to car detailing or you are merely searching for a few fresh "suggestions" to give you the advantage on your next car show. In any event I trust that this guidebook helps you. Bug removal sponge Pre-soak the vehicle making certain that you eliminate any one of those major dust. Get rid of any bug and tar things time utilizing insect & pitch remover having a sponge. Move on into the rims, as pliers accumulate brake dirt and road debris. Use a wheel cleaner that is made for your type of rims such as being clear. Don't overlook the underside of the vehicle, along with the gas cap lid. Begin on top of your car or truck and proceed your way down. Be certain that you get all areas, and rinse often. To do a final rinse, remove the spray thoughts and then flooding the finish. The drinking water will tend to run off in sheets. When draining off the vehicle, you need to make use of a chamois to find the majority of the drinking water, however finish it off using towels. Were finally about into the part concerning really washing your car. Make sure that you are utilizing a clean wash mitt or sponge, also that the bucket doesn't have any dirt and contaminates. Work in the color and make certain that the top looks trendy. Make certain you don't use dish washing detergents, and are currently having a automobile wash. The dishwashing detergent hurts the end, wiping it of oils. Then you definitely need to seal off the paint if you made a decision to use a compound for oxidation. You may get a. By wiping on sealers or even glazers you employ. Use towels to remove it after it's hazed around. Store Vacuum or equivalent. Paper rags, towels, and chamois. Old tshirts work well, and in case you're able to discover any older "clean" fabric diaper utilize them since they make excellent rags for shining the finish plus are fantastic for windows. Here is a tip: break down the car in to sections. Apply the prep/sealer/wax to 1 area in one time before moving on to another location. This let's you concentrate your time and efforts onto little regions at a time. Now you are ready to wax. Make sure you are with a wax one with high amounts of carnauba wax in it. Start at the surface of one's automobile and also do sections as you are working down your way. Don't let it sit more than 5-8 minutes before removing, and two thin coats of this is better than 1 thick coat. Also apply it with a sidetoside motion rather than curved to stop swirls. Make certain to contain door jambs, and also the areas beneath door hinges and behind bumpers. Wrap a cotton material and burnishing the polish may neutralizes blemishes.

The car is chiefly dry and also if you're done washing, employ your plastic sheeting to any plastic components, bumpers and the tires you want to glow. This gives the vehicle and you can then look for missed regions or water runs. Orbital Buffer. Again these are becoming pretty inexpensive. Brushes. You are going to want a few diverse varieties and sizes to get in to the difficult to get to areas. An old toothbrush is effective, and many cotton swabs. Now for one of the portions that the dash. Initial you can blast any dirt off . Clean air vent grilles with cotton swabs and decorate them up by misting on a spray on rubber vanitytable. Spray any dress up cleaner on a soft towel and then apply it into the remaining portion of the dashboard, be careful on the tool panel. Now where to commence? Most experts I discuss suggest dirt you brush out and starting around the interior so the dust wont settle on a cleaned exterior. Remove any floor mats and give the carpeting and upholstery that a very good vacuuming. Move the seats forward and backward to get all the dirt consisting of in the tracks, and doorway springs. You should also use one of your harder bristled brushes to get any dirt out from the cracks; it's also good for stirring up the carpet mat so you can get most of the junk out of the carpet. Power Washer or a hose nozzle with different head types. Power Washers are receiving reasonably priced today and you also can select them up. To begin with is hard work and frustrating. No http://edition.cnn.com/search/?text=car valeting matter what your reason for needing to detail your vehicle out of needing to attend a automobile reveal for attempting to sell your automobile detailing will soon be worth your time and effort and effort. Now there are products out there that say that it will cut your time in half, and that you only require to do it onceor two. However, several expert detailers I talked with said that many of the new more economical services and products are so too fantastic to be authentic and can hurt paint tasks. This is why I suggest staying away from low quality products and sticking with the products. There is not a thing that works as well as labour along with a few elbow grease. Some suggestions will be made by me as I continue through the guide, but if you have a product you really like, go ahead and use it. If you have any stains in the upholstery or carpet this is the time to deal with them. Utilize an all purpose cleaner to get out the stubborn stains. Saturate the stain with cleaner, operating it in using a damp sponge. Let it sit awhile and after that blot it out. Make sure that you read the management onto the cleaner to get safeguards. You might make use of a window cleaner sprayed on a rag to find the Head Liner clean. Don't forget that the trunk/hatchback areas too. Proceed ahead to the interiors surfaces that are hard, clean them using a damp cloth and a gentle all purpose cleaner. If you might have leather upholstery, then groom the surfaces spray it on a rag for tight areas. Never make use of a plastic product. Worn or torn areas of vinyl can be repaired using kits created for this objective. Repairs are made with a patch that allows you fit grain and the exact color of your upholstery. Worn areas of leather can be touched up with a grade shoe gloss or dyes. Clean mitts and or a excellent sponge. Maintain a very good car duster all around that some services and products leave behind. Clean bucket. Make sure it is clean, and you may want to keep is as your car washing bucket only. This may help prevent becoming dust and chemicals in a bucket that you use to clean your auto with. We hope that you found the information useful. Plus remember to protect your vehicles finish in the weather as far as you possibly can. This usually means storing the automobile coated spot, in a garage, or having a superior quality car cover. A car which is constantly exposed to sunlight and other environmental hazards can deteriorate quicker and call for preservation. Before you get started you will want: