The Lechery Thread

[rosco rathbone]

Re: I love tomboys!

I just want to walk over, grab her by the hair, hold her down and yank off the shorts, just to see what it is. Or do something.

*nodsnodsnods* yup. It's a case of lechery and public mopery in the first degree. Keep your dark spectacles on and remember that the Lord Mayor has issued a proclamation regarding the fate of all lechers apprehended in London Town.

 

[snowy ciara]

Hee! You should have been there..

I come out of the SU with my lunch. Kat is sitting there, pretending to study, but really she's watching the game with this cute blank look on her face.

I say: "Nice Weather"

She says: "Hu huh"

"Good game?"

"Uh huh."

"The goalie has 5 legs."

"Yup."

"I hear they're having camel races next week on the mall. All the jockeys are gonna be nekkid."

"WHAT did you just say!?!"

"It was the nekkid that got your attention, wasn't it?"

"Bitch. I know where you sleep, y'know."

 

[rosco rathbone]

For Snowy

...laughing in the playground
gets no kicks from little boys.
She'd rather make it with a leching grey.
Or maybe her attention
was drawn by Aqualung
who watches through the railings as they play....


That's one of the verses of "Crosseyed Mary", from the mighty Jethro Tull LP Aqualung. Probably the most lecherous 10 seconds of rock ever recorded; although you have to hear the venomous, lecherous, (yet melodious!) sneer in which it is sung and the swaggering blaze of the call-and-response guitar licks careening into each line. A must-have for all you lecherous children who think that Nirvana invented rock and roll.

 

[snowy ciara]

I bet I know from whom I can borrow that album. Thanks! I will have to call over and see. But you know what, I don't like Nirvana. Never have.

 

[Marquis]

In highschool at some point it seemed like there were two groups of kids, those that listened to rap and those that listened to Nirvana. I predict a hit rap song using Nirvana samples within the next 5 years. Remember where you heard it first!

 

[rosco rathbone]

Kurt Kobain was a snivelling little whiner. Definitely not a dom. Not fit to shine Ian Anderson's pointy elf boots! Let his name never darken this lechery thread again.

"A mosquito my libido" my ass.

 

[Marquis]

I'm a big fan of the lechery you do while you're with a partner. There are so many combinations possible here, depending on who is aware of the lechery.

The rude lech. There is the stop talking to your company in mid sentence to eye a stranger up and down as she walks by. A good test for future threesome potential.

The secret lech. This is when you're hugging or dancing with someone and they cannot see your eyes, which are transfixed on some belle across the room. What's even hotter is that said target doesn't know how inappropriate your stares are since she doesn't know your relationship with the oblivious one. Mystery is always sexy.

The Kamikaze lech. This is when in full view of your company and totally recognizable by the victim, you are leching while in affectionate company. Many girls will tighten up when they see this, but others will put that extra twitch in their ass as they walk away.

 

[rosco rathbone]

The rude lech. There is the stop talking to your company in mid sentence to eye a stranger up and down as she walks by. A good test for future threesome potential.

This is straight up pimpin. Do it all the time.

 

[Marquis]

Re: For Snowy

Crosseyed Mary isn't even on limewire. For all intents and purposes this puts its existence into question.

 

[TaintedB]

Re: Re: For Snowy

Originally posted by Marquis
Crosseyed Mary isn't even on limewire. For all intents and purposes this puts its existence into question.

That's probably because I wasn't on limewire today. No seriously, did you try spelling it like this? Cross-Eyed Mary.

 

[Marquis]

Wow, today has not been my best in terms of creative problem solving.

Listening now.

 

[CrossEyedMary]

Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again...

Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract
but she always plays the game
...
Cross-eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl
and she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich man stealer
but her favour's good and strong:
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate
helps the poor man get along.



I couldn't resist.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Re: Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again...

Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract
but she always plays the game
...
Cross-eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl
and she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich man stealer
but her favour's good and strong:
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate
helps the poor man get along.



I couldn't resist.

Is this who I think it is??

 

[CrossEyedMary]

Is this who I think it is??

Probably not, but I only say that because I can't think of who you'd be. Venture a guess at my name, see if I vanish in a puff of smoke. Heh.


I'll include some thoughts on Tull, for the hell of it. Anderson was a smart man, a creative man, an interesting man. I'm a solid quarter century younger than the average Tull fan but I can appreciate the music in terms of a modern social context; I can also appreciate the absolutly visceral and sheerly basic depravity of many of the lyrics with no social context whatsoever. I always understood Cross-eyed Mary to be about a feminine threat though; maybe this is just a case of my perception being based on self. All that being said, I think I prefer to be horribly immoral to older music; Tull being some of the best. I didn't pick my user name because of some kind of ocular problem, after all. Something about the instrumental solos can really encapsulate my feeling of energy and desire and yes, need, when temptation walks in front of my car, and my mind wanders where it really shouldn't.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Ah, ok, you weren't who I thought you were. I like the cut of your jib, however.

That song has a groove that could only properly be called humping. They simply don't make bass-guitar-drums rock and roll with that nasty, spermy, slimey HUMPING grind anymore. Condoms should be issued with that song. It will get you pregnant!

 

[snowy ciara]

giggling madly Nope, wasn't me! Contrary to current conspiracy theories, there's only one of me here. That's not to say that I didn't think of it; but someone else beat me to it by the time I got home tonight.

 

[rosco rathbone]

lechery, attempted rape & premature ejaculation in English Literature

...But I was talking to the wind; for whether my tears, my attitude or the disorder of my dress proved fresh incentives, or whether he was now under the dominion of desires he could not bridle, but snorting and foaming with lust and rage, he renews his attack, seizes me, and again attempts to extend and fix me on the settee; in which he succeeded so far as to lay me along and even toss my petticoats over my head, and lay my thighs bare, which I obstinately kept close, nor could be, though he attempted with his knee to force them open, effect it so as to stand fair for being master of the main avenue. He was unbuttoned both waistcoat and breeches, yet I only felt the weight of his body upon me, whilst I lay struggling with indignation, and dying with terrors; but he stopped all of a sudden, and got off, panting and blowing, cursing, and rehearsing upon me old and ugly for so I had very naturally called him in the heat of my defence.
The brute had, it seems, as I afterwards understood, brought on, by his eagerness and struggle, the ultimate period of his hot fit of lust, which his power was too short lived to carry him through the full execution of; of which my thighs and linnen recieved the effusion."

Fanny Hill by John Cleland

 

[TaintedB]

Couple of nice images:

 

[Phoenix Stone]

Reading that bit of Fanny Hill takes me back to junior year in High School. (Never could get enough o' them Classics 'o Literature.)

My, my, I must find a fan, feeling a mite feverish. (If only Jane Austen had ever taken the low road....)
And then, just the summer before, there was the potent combo of Nat King Cole on the ol' Victorola, while perusing... was it Harold Robbins? and having a quick snort from at the bar of the neighbor's house we were sitting. (Good pool for a midnight skinny-dip, too.) Yup, you do take me back. Ah... and then, in that same house, there was that interestingly shaped, pink bottle of bubble bath...hmm Twas indeed a long, hot summer.... Guess, in the interest of keeping it more forum-focussed, shoulda mentioned that the book, which wasn't Robbins but some even more succulent -- because sleazier -- imitation, was all about sexual blackmail, turning gorgeous princess-women into zombie sex slaves, and other such twisted pursuits.

huh. Think I"m not gonna write new posts -- just keep editing this one. whatthehell.
Reading more and still haven't seen posts about leching after men/boys. What comes to mind is a friend back in junior high who Always noticed, and commented on, 'the rise in the Levis.' And man did she have that heh heh lechy look. Probably half the fun was making me blush.

Fanny Hill by John Cleland

 

[Marquis]

Couple of nice images:

'
HOT HOT HOT, makes me look forward to my hairline receding.

 

[TaintedB]

'
HOT HOT HOT, makes me look forward to my hairline receding.

He's not unattractive, but they chose him well for the DOM (dirty old man) "uncle" role of this picture series. Big beak of a nose, wattled adam's apple, the thin-but-too-red lips suggesting lavicious perversion, and the balding head make him look to me like a cross between a gnome and a goblin.

 

[Marquis]

He's not unattractive, but they chose him well for the DOM (dirty old man) "uncle" role of this picture series. Big beak of a nose, wattled adam's apple, the thin-but-too-red lips suggesting lavicious perversion, and the balding head make him look to me like a cross between a gnome and a goblin.

It's his cheesy smile that I love. I see it all the time on the faces of rich old men trying to pick up young floosies at upscale local bars. They pop Viagra like aspirin and their pick up line is dropping the keys to their Bentley. There is so much distance between them and the girls they paw on, that all they can do is smile all night, with this half uncomfortable, half gleeful look.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Fordham Road

My old Belizian partner Berice had often mentioned Fordham Road in the Bronx; famed for its women and their firm, gelatinous, wobbly asses. My mental map of the Bronx was just white space with a couple of sea serpents and a "Here Be Monsters", so I never created much of a picture in my mind, other than that of Berice going home tired and half-drunk, an orange bandana tied over his shaved head, leering at some vaguely imagined hindquarters.


Now I'm working on Fordham, one block up from Fordham University, on the edge of the hoochie-mama shopping district. And let me tell you, the women are amazing. All day long, every type of black, latin and mixed girl. OPen lechery isn't even the word for it. We sit with our backs to the wall and watch them pass, each more jiggly than the last. Mouths open like men confronting some wonder of the future.

I've taken to just staring at them with complete objectification. I think the same thoughts about every one. I'd like to slam you face down, yank that miniskirt/hotpants/tight jeans off you and beat your ass with the doubled-up belt until you cry. Then I expel a breath of air between sun-cracked lips, "hoo", and take a reflective swallow of warmish Hawaiian Punch. "That'd most surely teach her a lesson", I think to myself. I don't even know if these Bronx chicks are into that shit. Probably hasn't really percolated down to the lower classes yet-no need for it. Sex still raw and real up here in the Bronx. Mami is mami and Papi is papi.

In the corner diner ordering bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel at coffee break, so sun-stunned that I can barely stand. Without, a teenaged Dominican girl passes, then pauses in front of the place to turn and arch her back, looking back over her shoulder, giving the fit of her jeans a critical look. She knows that every man in the place is staring at her spectacular bubble butt. Something Richie the signalman said the other day came back to mind. No wonder they got so many rapes up here.....

I love the Bronx.

 

[Netzach]

My old Belizian partner Berice had often mentioned Fordham Road in the Bronx; famed for its women and their firm, gelatinous, wobbly asses. My mental map of the Bronx was just white space with a couple of sea serpents and a "Here Be Monsters", so I never created much of a picture in my mind, other than that of Berice going home tired and half-drunk, an orange bandana tied over his shaved head, leering at some vaguely imagined hindquarters.


Now I'm working on Fordham, one block up from Fordham University, on the edge of the hoochie-mama shopping district. And let me tell you, the women are amazing. All day long, every type of black, latin and mixed girl. OPen lechery isn't even the word for it. We sit with our backs to the wall and watch them pass, each more jiggly than the last. Mouths open like men confronting some wonder of the future.

I've taken to just staring at them with complete objectification. I think the same thoughts about every one. I'd like to slam you face down, yank that miniskirt/hotpants/tight jeans off you and beat your ass with the doubled-up belt until you cry. Then I expel a breath of air between sun-cracked lips, "hoo", and take a reflective swallow of warmish Hawaiian Punch. "That'd most surely teach her a lesson", I think to myself. I don't even know if these Bronx chicks are into that shit. Probably hasn't really percolated down to the lower classes yet-no need for it. Sex still raw and real up here in the Bronx. Mami is mami and Papi is papi.

In the corner diner ordering bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel at coffee break, so sun-stunned that I can barely stand. Without, a teenaged Dominican girl passes, then pauses in front of the place to turn and arch her back, looking back over her shoulder, giving the fit of her jeans a critical look. She knows that every man in the place is staring at her spectacular bubble butt. Something Richie the signalman said the other day came back to mind. No wonder they got so many rapes up here.....

I love the Bronx.

Here be monsters. Bronx represent.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Here be monsters. Bronx represent.

I can just see you buying sandals with 6 inch fuck me stack soles and ancient grecian ankle lacings....and maybe a "Ricans Do It With Chupacabra" baby tee....

I am getting hip to the Bronx.