Memoirs of a Cubist Odalisque


Memoirs of a Cubist Odalisque

Semper Fidelis

Semper Fi never removed his spectacles even in the heat of desire. His pince-nez caught, captured and dispensed salty yearning drops of sweat upon whichever passion princess he had chosen for his evenings of lust.

His bull powered thrusts accompanied by violent shakes and heaves of the Brass headboard threatened to crash through the plaster thin wall and into the adjoining room. Fellow patrons and madams nicknamed him the Bull in the China Shop for his furious jackhammer prick pounding he gave to Ladies of the Evening with his equine sized crimson member.  His broad face with flaring nostrils and rather full lips rendered him some animalistic qualities which he gladly played out in the boudoir.

His sonorous speeches gave way to animalistic grunts, groans, and growls that increased with intensity of each hammer G-Spot driven plunge. At the crescendo when he could no longer hold back the volcanic force surging inside he withdrew to spew his semen eruption over his mistress rounded abdomen, full firm breasts and thick thighs.

During the week he was a respectable Antique Bookshop Owner dealing with annoying customers and fickle publishers and shady book collectors. By the weekend it’s like all that ferocity wrapped up inside he was ready to be released in the Ultimate Weekend Fuck Fest. Sometimes he was able to release building tension with whichever out of town female research bookseller/collector was in town for a convention or a project.  He was usually able to win them over with his humor, charm and dinners at the finest restaurants in town.  Fortunately for Semper Fi his begetter though rich in seminal fluids was totally devoid of sperm otherwise he would have sired legions offspring with the many young fertile women he serviced on a regular basis. On first glance his dangling appendage had ample girth but seemed to lack length but that assumption was quickly falsified during arousal.

Such was his reputation that every Friday when he made his grand entrance into the Pussy Palace Bordello all the Ladies in Waiting vied for his attention by wearing their most entrancing scintillating garb so that they would be the chosen mare to be rode hard and put out wet.

Semper Fi with his musician fingers explored every nook, cranny, crevice and grotto of the selected woman’s body blessing her with multiple orgasms before entering her moist dark chambers with his elephantine rod of steel.

The aromatic oils that he liberally anointed his body daily provided powerful pheromones when mixed with his natural man musk scent.  Sometimes his spurting semen cascaded over the woman like golden glistening raindrops against a window pane.  Other times he ejaculated copious white cream which sprayed over flaming hips and thighs like a profuse foggy mist mixing with her fragrant perspiration murky perfumes.

His favorite of the entire harem was Sophronia whose twisted back gave him a thousand pleasures in mind and body while away from her or when tracing his fingers along the S-shaped curve that she desperately tried to hide with elaborate costumes.  She was a looker that one with her Almond shaped eyes hazel eyes and burnished skin. Sophie was an African/Native American fairytale goddess with her sepia toned complexion, deep burgundy magenta twisty curly Nappy mane that spiraled out from her head like leafy tree branches reaching for sunlight, and full lips that had a natural purple tinge over a set of perfectly formed teeth.

Goth Snow White ~ Bad Azz
Goth Snow White ~ Bad Azz

 

Gumby Lover

Tamar’s Story

“I Know that I’m not much to look at but I used to be the Crown Prince of Manhood, the Courtier of Cum among Royal Lovers.”

This laughable boast came on an exultation of foul and fetid breath akin to human waste lying in the bottom of a sewer emitting from a wizened and emaciated corpse like figure with a red bulging knobby doorknob on the end of a shriveled pecker. How it managed to stand at attention was a miracle from the saints or gods of nonstop porn.  His face was a veritable road-map of lines, wrinkles, valleys, pitted scars with a bird beak blue veined appendage masquerading as a nose jutting forth from sunken cheeks.  Above the beak nose were two rheumy eyes topped by beetle brows which looked more like two warring caterpillars wrangling for domination of an egg shaped skull sprouting tufts of errant hairs growing from the beak nose, elongated ears and the various moles on his scrofulous person.

Then it began. I closed my eyes and did my best to disengage all my senses as this old bag of bones began his pitiful assault upon my body.  I tried to drown out the sound of the Click-Clacking of false teeth in rhythm with hurried asthmatic prods that gradually became more pathetic and feebler though he put his hairy back best with his pecker pushing.  Thankfully he was done in under five minutes.  The way he panted and gasped for air I thought he was having a heart attack and about to cum and go at the same time!

Four minutes of torture and hell. Because I have Scoliosis I had to deal with the runts of the litter. Yup I get all the Gumbys and Pokeys.  Though we are fed, housed, clothed and housed like Renaissance Odalisques there is still a pecking order of beauty.  My face, my sun-kissed umber skin, my small perfectly round breasts and long curly wavy chestnut locks got me a reprieve from just being another filthy dirty street urchin but this curvature of the spine has relegated me to servicing the worst of the many patrons who pass through these palatial doors.

During the week I was spared from my licentious duties but come Friday, payday once again I had to endure filthy spotted old men with dragon breath, bodies smelling like rancid meat who peeled away phosphorous shit breeches from their narrow wrinkly asses.  When my luck was especially bad I dealt with the twins Geeky and Gimpy. One classic faced bumbling Nerd and the other though having no malformation of his lower limbs seemed to bang into every piece of furniture in the room no matter how far apart the furnishings were arranged.  I grinned and bared the fumbling’s and false starts because they paid well and the other Odalisques either refused to service them or found a way to disappear when they entered the bordello. Though both were fairly young, perhaps in their 20s they did no better in the stamina and endurance department than the old coots in their 70s and 80s.  You went in expecting volcanic emissions and received only a little smoke, a few burps and many farts.  Dribblers all.

Damn my twisted back!!  Relegated to porcine misanthropes and brachiocephalic troglodytes!!

Few and far in between are opportunities to be with my Beloved Semper Fi a robust man in his late 40s. Mattered not to him my twisted spine as he guided me gently onto his massive bull staff. Skillfully bringing me to numerous orgasms complimenting me on my long curly chestnut hair, my perfect A Cup breasts gifted with large sensitive raisins that grew even larger as he sucked and licked me into ecstasy. What gave me even more pleasure than his substantial endowment was that he chose me. Semper would call at least two or three days in advance specifically requesting my services.  I felt honored to be chosen by this man among men. But then again where does the Sycophant stop and the Courtesan begin?

 

Tamar’s Story

I came here from a rural backwater village after a disastrous arranged marriage. Truthfully there was no consummation on my wedding night once my betrothed disrobed me and began screaming and cursing in horror and disgust at my Quasimodo form tossing me from the matrimonial bed, calling the town elders who made preparations for me to be sent back to my father’s tent.  My father who was always ashamed of me and who found himself disgraced not only within our tribe sent me away into the wilderness with only the clothes on my back and what few possessions I could gather whilst trying to escape his stormy anger.

Good fortune did smile upon me as I traversed the dusty road away from the only home I had ever known. Angels in the forms of my mother, aunts and sisters had extinguished my father’s fiery rage through liberal applications of wine.  Once he entered the land of intoxicated snores my weeping women saddled horses, loaded them down with as many provisions as they could hold and interception my journey.  We hugged, cried and mourned my passing knowing a rejected woman is as one dead. A Jepthah’s daughter placed upon the sacrificial altar never to be seen or heard from again.

They also managed to bargain with the disgruntled groom managing to win back half my dowry which my mother tearfully entrusted to my outstretched hands.  I was also given one strong yet steady sway back donkey. A fitting companion who mirrored my disability and temperament.  My past I knew well but my future was just a cloudy day on the horizon.

 

 

Bad_A$$ Goth Snow White
Bad_A$$ Goth Snow White


 DEPRAVITY, DEBAUCHERY, decadence

Vice ridden timeworn men who still sustain the impure flames of lust despite the chill of old age.

A worthy adage of a man on the cusp geezer-hood.

Stepping from the filthy foul smelling streets men were ushered into exotic elaborately decorated quarters decorated with expensive Persian rugs, medieval tapestries, silk draperies hung upon windowless walls, tables adorned with Tiffany lamps. A subtle scent of incense permeated the airways. The decorations seemed incongruous yet harmonized together in an irregular yet pleasing manner. Palatial taste a bit ostentatious like a Renaissance bordello. The furnishings were highly articulated and faceted Baroque/Rococo objects, many with deep gouges and gashes suggesting transparency and interior penetration. This room and much of the house as well as the street urchins who passed through seemed to us an Orientalist fantasy. At the far end of the living room hung a painting of a Minotaur coupling with a Centauride.

Within this underworld we meet our sardonic proprietors in sex trade, the mirthless dwarf called, BASTINADO BOOBYALLA.

Booby as he was affectionately known had the face of Peter Lorre and the heft and bulk of a miniaturized Sidney Greenstreet.  Booby had the misfortune of being scurrilous and scrofulous. His rough skin was spotted with scabies and his body emitted a sepulchral odor. Spiteful

Booby was was the bodily opposite of his Partner in Crime Bumfiddler Clatterfart.

Bummy was six feet tall of bulging muscles, narrow waist and sculpted buttocks. His lack of moral fiber and somewhat limited intellectual faculties innate in most normal human personalities could be easily perceived in his cranial structure and his overall physiognomy. The shock of wild reddish brown hair closely cut on the sides of the head, the high sloping forehead, prominent brow ridges, receding nostrils and thin lips, these features put one in mind of a simian head attached to the body of Atlas. Bummy’s nature embodied the seven deadly sins from head to foot.

Booby and Bummy were the real owners of the bordello that Semper Fi patronized on a weekly basis.

Though the outer streets were rundown, garbage strewn and suspect inside the elaborate bedchambers fit for a king were divided into three sections one being the actual room where Semper Fi carried Bronco Busting escapades with an ornate Italian Renaissance canopy bed replete with seraphim, cherubim, and putti on the ceiling looking down seemingly blessing the lewd acts committed in that bed.

Business offices where the girls reported for inspection and assignments at first resembled an Italian studiolo. Scholarly books that were never read, save those dealing with what he felt was the “science of photography and videography” lined the bookshelves along the walls. There was a collection of opera records beside an ancient Victrola, which either Bummy or Booby played incessantly even during to block the sounds of various vigorous sexual acts committed in the bawdy house.  Usually one or both of the duo would choose a woman for themselves and during those sexual gymnastics the music became louder more than likely to mask their grunts and groans plus the simulated shrieks of whatever sex worker was chosen to honor their illustrious owners.

Snow White Goth
Snow White Goth

 

Fetish

Dagmar served as a type of governess to the young women. Their harem quickly became a zone of safety from streets of starvation, disease and death. They were bathed, perfumed and outfitted like odalisques in paintings from centuries past.

 

As time went on many young women passed through our heathen portals but one stood out from the others. She was literally abandoned at our doorstep. At first we thought the girl to be deaf and dumb because she neither spoke except to make nearly unintelligible sounds nor seemed to respond to our commands. Dagmar and I thought her a poor fit for our scandalous enterprises. Dagmar took her into the women’s’ chambers to be washed cleaned of the dirt and filth that seemed to encased her fragile body and discovered a note pinned to her grimy undergarments. Succinctly the note said her name was Sophronia and that she had just turned eighteen with her moon cycle having started three seasons prior. Dagmar was always good at persuasion and bringing out the best in wounded animals. Coaxing Sophie was no different. After a time Sophie as we nicknamed the girl responded to Dagmar’s gentle persuasions. A bond of trust developed between the two despite the fact that Dagmar knew the girls eventual destiny.

 

Many moons passed and Sophie as Dagmar liked to call her became quite the coquette. For some odd reason Eve became a favorite of Booby who outfitted her in dresses and skirts of silk, satin, lace, velvet. Many lovely cream colored fabrics some with lace trim others with glass beads and sequins. Before we knew it Sophie’s 21st birthday was upon us and Booby had a special costume made up for Sophie. It was a beautiful blood red silk satin with lace trimming with velvet calf length skirts. However as joyful as Sophie was when she donned the frock what pleased her even more were the Bordello Shoes—Red Velveteen Victorian button-up Boots with a two inch heel. Sophie’s thick dark hair was caught up in a chignon ala Gibson Girl but she had the Bohemian spirit of the Flapper.

 

As much a disciple of Bacchus as the god’s original followers neither Booby nor Bummy ever touched Sophie. Her chambers were the height of ornamentation and ostentation with elaborate sinks, tubs, showers and a bidet. Something the other girls could only dream about.  Yes Sophie was a prize. And such an Odalisque could not be hidden from Semper Fi for very long………….

 

Abs-Solution


Abs-Solution

Sometime around my 52nd Birthday Alien Body Snatchers had taken my normal hour glass figure and slowly began to replace it with a blobbity blob formless mass. I made the excuse that I was becoming Rubenesque like the paintings in the European Paintings section of the museum. Well that was a poor excuse since I’m living in the 21st Century and not the 15th, 16th or 17th Centuries!

The Old Age beings from an alternate universe and/or dimensions even had the nerve and audacity to hijack my salt & pepper hair leaving just the salt with no pepper!! My hair had literally turned white overnight!!

My Avatar ~ Cat Woman
My Avatar ~ Cat Woman

I even noticed that my formerly Michelle Obama perfect upper arms were beginning to exhibit turkey wing traits!!  Ugh!! No!!  I will never wear the dolmen sleeves! Evil age inducing extraterrestrials’!! Right then and then I made the choice to reclaim my body.

That middle-age spare tire mocked the belly button piercing I had gotten to commemorate my 50th Birthday in 2009! Yes I have and love my Tattoos and piercings. No I’m not going through some middle-age crisis.  I consider my body a living canvas and decorate it accordingly. Why should I turn down my self expression?  From the Funky 40s all the way to my Fabulous 50s Body Art is the Way to Go!!

 Turn Down For What?   http://youtu.be/gzi3gxg062c

Made the decision to return to the Summer of 42 not 1942 because I was not born or even thought of that year but Age 42 when I was at my physical peak.

I began my unofficial exercise program on Halloween my favorite holiday and my New Birth. Ramped it up in November 2013. I had the good fortune to be invited to a number of Birthday and Holiday parties in November and December and naturally I was on the dance floor at every party! Doing all these regular party favorite dances requires agility and endurance. That’s a workout within itself! Thanks to the Help, Encouragement & Support of two very good friends Matt Velez and Hadiiya Barbel I made my official entry into the Fab Abs Waist Wellness By Hadiiya Barbel program!! Hooray!!

Year of the Tiger!
Halloween 2013 ~ Year of the Tiger!!

Two Major Benefits that I noticed right off the bat were my back pain was 95% gone and no colds or infections since I began the Ab programs. So Dancing is great but Planking, Crunches/Sit-ups, Leg Lifts, Lunges, Stretches, Squats, and Jumping Jacks are even better. As with any exercise program I modify it to meet my needs. I know I have arthritis and bad knees so I do as much as I can but I try to up the ante every day. It’s not really a Challenge if you can’t increase your reps but I do my increases gradually and slowly. I feel that by the end of next month Feb or early March I should have Fab Abs. No New Years resolutions but achievable Fitness Goals!!

Alright now Family Let’s Get it Gangnam Style!!http://youtu.be/60MQ3AG1c8o

The Belly Beautiful shall Reign Again!!

 

To all my Abolicious SisterGirlFriends ~ Thanks for Inspiring me to the path of Health and Wellness!! Here’s to an Abtastic 2014!!

Cha Cha Slide Ladies!!

http://youtu.be/cb6pJ4AEOoI

 

December 2013 Party Time
December 2013 Party Time

 

Red Hair!! Red Lips!! A Fiery Spirit Blazes into 2014!!

 

Reflections from the Woman with the Skinny Legs


Reflections from the Woman with the Skinny Legs

One Thin Woman’s Hopeful Journey towards Cultural Acceptance

Skinny Legs And All – Joe Tex (Dial)1967

As a Black Woman who has been called skinny, bony, stick lady, po’ and various other negative names for years. I can understand wanting to fit in. I’ve actually had women especially Black women come up to me and tell me they hate me or call me some nasty names I won’t repeat. I remember gaining a lot of weight when I was in my 40s due to taking anti-depressants. Believe it or not I received tons of compliments from my African American co-workers.

Prior to my forties, when I was a young woman working in an office, co-workers would leave all types of cookies, cakes, snacks, even cans of Ensure telling me in a not so subtle way that I needed these foods to “fatten up” and become an accepted member of the tribe.  If my weight suddenly ballooned to 195 lbs, something that is genetically impossible for me, but if those numbers did rise would my Black Woman Membership card arrive in the mail?

Right before I started work at my present job I stopped taking the anti-depressants. Of course I lost the weight. Sadness. Bullying from some female co-workers. One brother told me I had a body like a white woman. Someone else said I looked Asian. I love my Caucasian and Asian Sisters but like anyone else I want to be accepted by my own community. I want to fit in.  Devastated. I cried myself to sleep many nights. I even tried to explain to my female co-workers that my thinness was due to genetics, which is true. My mother Mable Palmer never weighed more than 95 lbs in her life even after having kids.

BTW my mother had diabetes as does most of my family on my mother side. Many of my cousins my around my age, (I’m 54) have died from the disease. I had my own brush with death November 7, 2008 when I was rushed to the hospital from my job for extreme high blood pressure. To show you how brainwashed I was as I lay on the hospital gurney in the emergency hooked to a machine monitoring my pressure, my life passing before my eyes, I looked down at my thighs and felt shame because I was so thin!

Like most women I look like my mother. I carry her DNA.  Also since I have high blood pressure I can no longer eat certain foods so that prevents me from gaining additional weight. I weigh about 117 or 120 depending. Am I a fat basher? No because I know from firsthand experience just how sensitive weight issues and the ensuing insults or assumptions can be. I want to know how my weight got to be a determination of how Black I am or how womanly I am.

Does everything depend on the size of a woman’s breasts or butt?  Have I been banished to a leper colony of neo-Blackness? Is a woman not more than her body? When do we stop promoting the superficial and concentrate on substance.  Sometimes I think my body type has made me an outcast. Does the fact that I’m slim make mean my membership in the African race has been revoked?

Eye of the Beholder

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t5qwyWl0xw&feature=colike

I’m not handing in my Black card just because my facial features and body structure are considered all wrong. Oh by the way does my dark skin and nappy hair get me reinstated to the Land of Negritude? Define Blackness! Does it not run deeper than the outside package?

Finally I confided in one of the African American supervisors what I was going through. He reassured me I looked fine and said I looked good. He explained to me that some of the females at our workplace were jealous.

Then after 50 I started gaining a little weight. Thank you Menopause for helping me enter the realm of semi-Rubenesque. I was received back into the fold, somewhat but I still get those funny looks and comments not only at work but even within my own ‘hood.’

Books with titles like “Skinny Women are Evil” do not help the situation. I hate that our patriarchal society has pitted one group of women against others even within our own race. So if I was stacked, voluptuous, a “brick house” would I then hear the Gooble Gobble song.

One of Us – We Accept Her

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9C4uTEEOJlM&feature=colike

Squats
Squats

Okay you know that I was intrigued by this picture. Anything to add curves to my stick frame. I looked up Squat videos on YouTube and found one that “Looked easy.” Not!! As I was doing the squats I could hear my knees Snap, Crackle & Pop more than a bowl of Rice Krispies. Maybe I should forget the Donkey Booty and just stay a “Black Twiggy!”

This is a Squat video by a Colombian Sister. Really now it would just be much easier to be reincarnated into her body!! LOL!! OMG!! Isn’t there an easier way to snag a husband? If I click my heels together 3 times will my stomach fat move downward towards my butt or upward to my boobs?! Dang my knees are creaky and clicking more than Savion Glover tap dancing!

Still trying to return to the Summer of 42. Not 1942 because I wasn’t yet born but age 42 when I had a nice hourglass figure. So I’ve been planking since Dec. 1st and now I will add Squats to my program. Let’s see if all this exercise results in romance when I turn 55 in Feb.

http://youtu.be/xK9jzjsTJts

I considered using one of my cats as weights but they would not cooperate and thought the better of that idea. Leave sleeping kitties lying on the bed. My cats already think I’m crazy for Planking. Now every morning Sylvester and Weezer take up a position in the Living Room watching me make a fool of myself and sometimes rubbing their little furry faces against mine.

The Journey Towards Self-Acceptance Continues

Battle of the Bulge~Relationships Grown Folks Style


My Avatar ~ Cat Woman
My Avatar ~ Cat Woman

Mature Grown Folks Relationship Observations for those 45+  

I’ve had the opportunity to explore every wing of my museum. I especially look for depictions of women in various societies and time periods. There is nothing more beautiful than the female nude. In every culture, Africa, Greek & Roman, European: 13-18 centuries and in 19th Century Art nearly every beautiful woman painted or sculpted has a small belly, a roundness in the tummy area.

Rubenesque as defined by the Urban Dictionary: Applied to a woman who has similar proportions to those in paintings by the Flemish painter Peter Paul Ruben; attractively plump; a woman who is alluring or pretty but without the waif-like body or athletic build presently common in media.

Every magazine, every newspaper, TV, the movies and of course the Internet screams at women to have that perfect body at any age. No you must have that movie star body so all the men will fall at your feet, regardless of the fact that most TV and Film stars have more failed relationships than anyone else.Before the exercise craze of the 20th Century it was okay for a woman to have a slight belly bulge. In fact not only were curves a sign of beauty but a sign you were getting enough to eat! Now the competition is on about who can have the flattest stomach or that infamous 6-pack. When I was growing up in the 60s a six-pack was a beer. Sure if you drank too many of them you took the risk of looking like you were about to give birth to a Budweiser but most folks drank on weekends. However I digress.

So much for exercise helping the “Beautiful People” stay married! This fixation with bodily perfection also has fat, balding middle-aged men, who probably need Viagra to get the job done searching desperately for Victoria’s Secret models. Like most women my weight fluctuates. Now I’ll never be very big because my mother was a small woman, (Jada Pinkett in size not looks) but yes I do have that middle-age gut. Why? I don’t really know. Maybe having an expanding middle was or is an outcome of menopause. At first it really bothered me. I’m no exercise freak but I do my walking and sometimes I’ll do sit-ups but truthfully I hate sit-ups! I can honestly say I look pretty good for my age. I’m well preserved but I’m not a card-carrying member of the fitness craze.  Went through all that while I was in the Army and since I no longer have a Drill Sgt breathing down my neck I no longer fear those 6 am 6 mile runs in full gear.

To paraphrase the Holy Bible, the grass withers and the flower fades but a Woman of God endures forever. Now I can cook and clean with the best of them but I’m never going to look the way I did in my 20s, 30s or 40s. So guys if you’re looking for a Proverbs 31:10-31 Woman I’m here. If you’re looking for Bay Watch babes, well keep looking and let me know how that works out for you. Peace.

Oh yeah….Jelly Belly I Love you!

AABR_HALLOWEEN_20115