When I was a university student, I met a girl in my course who quickly became a very good friend. When the course was over, we thought we might share a house together and she approached her parents about sharing a house with me. They said that they didn't approve of me. My girlfriend found this laughable. I was, by far, her most conservative friend, who had never broken a law, missed a class, smoked a cigarette, or even considered being naughty in any way. If they didn't approve of me, then she felt certain they would never approve of her living with anyone.
From my perspective, it was a shock to not have their approval. I had always had every one's approval. I truly was a very good girl back in those days.
Today, I was having an online chat with my international friend. She is a darling girl, going out with a lovely man; a conservative man. She didn't think he would approve of us chatting. I suggested he might think I was "too risque; a bad influence." She agreed that he might well think that I was "too risque".
Really? Me?
Well, here's the thing. I love the fact that I might be considered "too risque" these days. Growing up, I never ever thought that anybody would think that I was "too risque". But, look at me now! I have my own blog with a warning on it. Me! How utterly delicious. I'm risque; finally!
I love the world of domination and submission. It is miles more fun than playing golf or bridge, like some of my friends on the ground. The very thought of that bores me to tears. Being risque with you guys is much more fun.
So, it's official. Vesta is risque, and she's loving it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Risque. Good for you! I am one who, by all outside appearances is the girl next door. A little heavy, freckles everywhere, long hair. But in the privacy of our home I, too am risque. Keep it up!
ReplyDeletePS
Will be adding you to my google reader :)
clearly you have not properly considered the game of golf. A sport where one uses many strokes to get balls into tight holes, requires a plethora of clubs to be used like the driver, where you spend time exploring in the bush and on the beach, that uses short skirts and has lots of bending over.
ReplyDeleteYes this is a sport of the risque and you my dear are simply not playing with the right people.
If you decide to take it up I improve my girls game by letting her know strokes on the course equal strokes in the bedroom how many is therefore up to you.
J.
Dear taiah:
ReplyDeleteIt sounds to me like you enjoy the double identity as much as I do. It's nice to know you're reading. Thank you.
Dear Sir. J.
Well, full marks (!) to you for your creative techniques in improving your girl's handicap.
I have indeed played the game, but my friends were good enough to not ask the number of strokes it took me to get around the course. And, I have played with my husband, too, so let's just keep this conversation to ourselves, shall we, and I won't diss the game again. Agreed?
as you wish
ReplyDeleteoff topic ~ you commented on Elle's blog about a 55 word essay she did on submission, this was a task I gave my girl sometime ago and was unaware anybody else had picked it up. Please fell free to tackle the task and perhaps we will see it in a future post.
J.
Dear Sir J
ReplyDeleteIn fact, it is quite 'on topic', as will become evident shortly.
I am happy to tackle the task but you will need to wait in line, I am afraid. The gentleman with whom I had my first chat has made note of the fact that I did not seek his permission to discuss that chat, and he happened to have an idea to 'make good', and that is the current idea for a post.
Thank you for the idea.