BordeauxBlack
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BB's dirty thoughts, Dec.1
🕑 Added 2022-12-08 04:33:14 +0000 UTCOnce upon a time, I seem to recall reading that the nape of the neck of a woman was considered a very attractive and erotic to the turn-of-the-century Japanese man. I am not certain how culturally true this is; it certainly can be found on a handful of google hits, but these are, far as I can tell, written by white people (including Memoirs of a Geisha, a book that I adored, but very much understood to be inauthentic, having been written by a white man in the 90s, and would later lead to a legal fight with the real person it was a fictitious history of, over it's misrepresentation of the heavily trained occupation).
(If you're interested in geisha stuff, skip open and closed parenthesis if not: "The term 'geisha' still has a certain ambiguity outside Japan. From visions of heavily dressed and theatrically made-up girls performing the tea ceremony right through to sex workers, most of us have little knowledge of what they actually are. Arthur Golden's novel 'Memoirs of a Geisha' only muddied the waters, and was mostly panned in Japan... When Arthur Golden was researching his book, Mineko was one of the people he talked to, guaranteeing her anonymity, and many elements of her life appear in the book. When it was published, he publicly named her, which caused her a lot of trouble, as geisha are traditionally protective of their traditions. The two entered a long running legal battle, which was eventually privately settled. She felt betrayed, and - like most geisha - felt the book gave a false impression of them and their lives.
This led her to write this book, and it is a beguiling read. She comes across as a complicated blend of confidence and doubt, sometimes sounding arrogant, but I think that is mostly a mask. She does sometimes overestimate her effect on others - her stories about entertaining foreign dignitaries being the best examples - but given her sheltered upbringing, I think there is an element of naïveté in it.
It is an interesting introduction to one of the famous traditions of Japanese life, and is detailed enough for the reader to get a real feel for the life these women lead. The number of maiko and geiko continues to fall, as demand gradually drops, and girls no longer see it as a fulfilling career choice. So it is fitting that Mineko has given us a comprehensive record of her experiences."
Those looking for a more authentic read, try here: https://www.amazon.com/Geisha-Gion-Japans-Foremost-Iwasaki/dp/074343059X )
Perhaps must disturbingly, I see numerous puritanical fictions (I can think of one put forward by a certain English-Chinese author) which is part fanfiction and sexist drivel, one part earnest repressive instruction in how to degrade oneself to please a man. (And I write this as a woman who deeply believes in a woman's- anyone's- right to be sexually submissive, if they wish to. Quite simply, sexual liberation becomes a very difficult subject in a world where women still lack sexual agency-
“Hookup culture”/sex positivity has failed to deliver promised liberation to women in the same way that many “free love” movements of the past have. Which is that freeing up women’s ability to have sex without a corresponding shift in patriarchal entitlement to their bodies and their reproductive labor does nothing to move women towards liberation, and instead shifts the goalposts for what kind of labor they are expected to perform for cis men. It is not inherently “conservative” for women to respond to this by withdrawing their participation."
But we're not here to discuss sexual freedoms and equality, we're here to discuss sexy, beautiful things! So let's resume checking our brains out into something beautiful and indulgent.
If such a notion is indeed the vintage Japanese man's perspective, then allow me to praise it- I can think of few things more sensually attractive to me on a woman than the rear line of her neck to her shoulder. This area cascades so beautifully down to her breasts, the shoulder and clavicle an extension of this erotic zone.
Many a time I've arisen from a bath, feeling the water gently drip from my hairline down to my shoulder or breasts, and felt the steaming, scented water to be as though a lover, erotic and stimulating. It's relaxing (which good intimacy should ultimately be), but it's also teasing and erotic, felt between the legs and in the heart.
Perhaps this makes this desire in me partially pavlovian- I desire to put that part of a woman's body in my mouth because I know what it does to me. Perhaps my largest erogenous zone IS the back of my neck, so adoring feeling it whispered against, kissed, licked, and of course, Bitten.
But it is certainly more nuanced than pavlovian self pleasure: there is an Itch, a Hunger to sink my teeth into flesh I find appetizing. To rest it only gently against the skin would be an exquisite Torture, wanting so dearly to bite down and stimulate the nerves, quicken the blood, hear the pleasured gasp of surprise and sweet pain.
It's not too surprising then, that I feel similarly about the underboob or in the thigh at the base of the ass- all ripe, bitable places, prone to making the appreciated one cry out in delight, in adored, consenting pain, in erotic pleasure... or all three at once.
Once I'm given the immeasureable gift of a woman's trust and sensuality, one of my first go-to moves is to caress that spot with fingers and with mouth. It's Key that I know she's into it- this area is intimate, is vulnerable, and won't feel good (for her, or me) if I'm not welcome. The shudder my theoretical prey might give at being inhaled is intoxicating- I've spent entire makeout sessions seeking the high of hearing my submissive shudder and gasp and moan when I stimulate, seize and savage them.
The low necklined hem revealing ample cleavage, the balconette bra, the off-shoudler blouse, sweater or evening gown, all of these things serve to make me think, salivatingly, of getting my lips onto those sensual parts. Fuck "less is more", MORE is more- the sight of something I can adore but not yet possess is tantalizing. I delight in Seeing her skin- smooth, creamy and even or freckled, where little moles might make constellations, birthmarks, scars, traces of life fully lived, or of elegant refinery and care, crafting a vessel Built for consumption. I know that is why myself, and many other women take such great care with our hair and skin... to make something beautiful, to create something pleasing to ourselves and others, to serve the senses, to make something leagues of hungry hopeful lovers to salivate to considering tasting.
I don't find the pursuit of beauty so evil. Laden in conflicting and often infantilizing messages, shown falsely to be the only and best thing a woman can do- certainly. Beauty standards are often constricting and arbitrary, and it can be such an emotional struggle to know that your value is often equated with how much you spend, or on things outside your control. But there is value in investing in yourself- I think only the self (and your doctor, of course) can know what healthy and self-pampered looks and feels like. The beauty of human experience is that there are MILLIONS of things found beautiful, and a million different ways to BE beautiful. I find it worthwhile to present a face to the world I find aesthetically pleasing, representative outside to the confidence I feel inside. It gets harder, having been at times hated within nerdy communities for being considered conventionally attractive, but over time I've accrued the skill for perspective; remembering that an attractive face means absolutely nothing inherently- it is neither good nor evil on it's own- and that someone else's assignment of maliciousness is about their perspective and experience, not about me.
So when I see a woman who has chosen a sweater that matches her skin tone, who uses a nice moisturizer and sunscreen, who picks a sexy lip shade or skips a bra on purpose- I complement. In it's best expression, beauty is about love, compassion and genuinity, art and self-expression.
And if you're Seeking to capture the eye of one Bordeaux Black... let the side of the shoulder slip a little further, simultaneously revealing and teasing the erotic flesh beneath. It works Every time.
Comments
Albin
Your mind, and your ability to put that which goes on within it to words, will never cease to amaze me. This post is both educational and interesting in the academic sense and as relating to more physical endeavours. My mind has learned, have new thoughts and is curious. My body is warm, heart beating, blood pumping and breath heavy. The power you possess with your voice is only equalled by that of your pen.
