Bistro Bijou

[Homburg]

LOLz

http://i201.photobucket.com/albums/aa297/omsomoma/Lingerie.jpg

This is yet another reason why Uncle Homburg always has at least one knife on hand at all times.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

This is yet another reason why Uncle Homburg always has at least one knife on hand at all times.

*snickering*

As much as I love my collection, I can't think of a single piece I wouldn't be just as happy to see on the floor, shredded to ribbons.

bj

 

[Homburg]

*snickering*

As much as I love my collection, I can't think of a single piece I wouldn't be just as happy to see on the floor, shredded to ribbons.

bj

This is another reason why Uncle Homburg always has at least one knife on hand at all times.

I've yet to play with a woman that did not have a great appreciation for having her clothing sliced or ripped off her body, especially if I was giving a running commentary using The Voice.

Note: Thrift Stores are a great place to hit for clothes that beg to be cut off, rip, torn, etc. If more thrift stores sold bodices ready for the ripping I'd be ever so much happier.

And, yes, hearing "Oh, god, but I like this shirt, but, oh, god, yes..." etc is an enormous turn-on for me.

 

[sassynyc]

I'm declaring that at least for the rest of the week is the Bistro Underwear Festival.

bj

Wooohooooo!

what about for those of us who dont wear underwear? do we get a substitute holiday? bare bottoms day perhaps?

Bj, we need a Commando Day for MIS. I think we can all appreciate it.

This is yet another reason why Uncle Homburg always has at least one knife on hand at all times.

Both laughing and crying at that thought. Lovely idea, but this is why it's good to have a few pairs of the cheap stuff on stash. Can't have the good stuff cut to ribbons. Though I'm guessing, by that point, a girl doesn't even care anymore.

 

[Homburg]

As an aside, I was in my teens when I was thwarted by my first incomprehensible bra closure device. I'd never seen any bra but those that clasp at the rear, so my right hand went searching in the middle of her back for the bits what to pull off. She was moaning and gasping because of what my left hand was doing to her thighs, and my lips and tongue to her neck, so she wasn't noticing. It wasn't until my deeply annoyed growl that she realised and let on that the clasp was in the front. Who knew? Stealth bra clasp technology *shrug* So I moved the front, pressing her young body against the inside of the far door, my body moving to loom over hers.

And my head hit the rear view mirror.

Without thinking, my hand smashed upward, driving the mirror forcefully into the headliner. She seemed to appreciate the violence and moaned and writhed some more (yeah, it was factor even back then), and I went back to the task at hand. I turned, I tugged, I pulled, and it thwarted me. Again. And again. And AGAIN. Finally I reached for my keys in the ignition, because I had a small pen knife as a key fob. The young lass was less than thrilled at this idea as she'd just bought the admittedly pretty bra.

As I threw caution to the wind and simply pushed up, exposing her soft breasts, her father woke up and decided to turn on every light in the house and in the yard, making our position and activities a bit less than discreet.

I have despised (and secretly been turned on by) front clasp bras ever since.

 

[Homburg]

Bj, we need a Commando Day for MIS. I think we can all appreciate it.

I certainly appreciate the results.

Both laughing and crying at that thought. Lovely idea, but this is why it's good to have a few pairs of the cheap stuff on stash. Can't have the good stuff cut to ribbons. Though I'm guessing, by that point, a girl doesn't even care anymore.

Exactly correct, on both counts. I have a collection of torn, cut, and sundered clothing. I don't keep everything, but I do tend to hold onto the truly memorable pieces as they are lovely fodder for reminiscing later, as well as making appropriate and emotionally powerful gags and blindfolds depending on size.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Wooohooooo!


Bj, we need a Commando Day for MIS. I think we can all appreciate it.


Both laughing and crying at that thought. Lovely idea, but this is why it's good to have a few pairs of the cheap stuff on stash. Can't have the good stuff cut to ribbons. Though I'm guessing, by that point, a girl doesn't even care anymore.

You are right about that thing that you have said there. I don't care how much I've spent on something or how fond of it I am, if there's a chance for it to be cut off with a knife, or torn apart in some fashion, I might (if I'm playing with Hat boy, anyway, since he likes a little argument) protest weakly, but I won't mean it. No question, it's worth it.

I shamefacedly now admit that I was commando yesterday as well. But as a year-round underwear worshiper, I guess perhaps I would celebrate differently anyway.

A Commando Day as part of Bistro Underwear Festival Month. Did I say month? I guess I did. I'm really only evangelistic about the religions that don't matter, like the Lingerie Worship and the Cult of Santa.

How bout Friday? Commando Day in the Bistro? or if you're really brave, you can check in that you're Porky Piggin' It. No pants at all.

So I wanna run this challenge idea by the Bistrovians before I commit to a thread about it.

I've been being nagged to do another Bar Poetry Contest. For the original, see this thread, particularly the last few pages where the reviews are coming in. The challenge is basically one about taking poetry to "the people" - the intended audience becomes People Who Don't Care Much About Poetry as such. Regular folks like the ones in My Bar.

Not only was that little interaction between the PFD Poets and the Regular People a great deal more successful than I ever expected, but I've actually been asked by the bar patrons whether or not I will do that again sometime.

heh heh. So here's what I'm thinking. The challenge will be this: sexiest poem ever, with some mention of underwear in it. I'll take the entries to My Bar for critique, with the specific idea that they will be choosing the number one Sexy Underwear Poem.

The winner will, of course, earn the right to be called "Sexiest Underwear Poet of 2008". You can put it in your sig line, even.

What do you think? Anyone up for this?

bj

 

[sassynyc]

I have despised (and secretly been turned on by) front clasp bras ever since.

Priceless story.
Homburg's Fables. Has a nice ring.

 

[Shankara20]

ETA: I read your disclainer for the first time.......ROFFL!

now I'm off the hand wash my panties in the sink at home.....

 

[sassynyc]

So I wanna run this challenge idea by the Bistrovians before I commit to a thread about it.

I've been being nagged to do another Bar Poetry Contest. For the original, see this thread, particularly the last few pages where the reviews are coming in. The challenge is basically one about taking poetry to "the people" - the intended audience becomes People Who Don't Care Much About Poetry as such. Regular folks like the ones in My Bar.

Not only was that little interaction between the PFD Poets and the Regular People a great deal more successful than I ever expected, but I've actually been asked by the bar patrons whether or not I will do that again sometime.

heh heh. So here's what I'm thinking. The challenge will be this: sexiest poem ever, with some mention of underwear in it. I'll take the entries to My Bar for critique, with the specific idea that they will be choosing the number one Sexy Underwear Poem.

The winner will, of course, earn the right to be called "Sexiest Underwear Poet of 2008". You can put it in your sig line, even.

What do you think? Anyone up for this?

bj

Me likes.
So, is this a one-time submission thing, multiple entries, or what?
Oh, and what kind of time frame are we looking at?

 

[Homburg]

Priceless story.
Homburg's Fables. Has a nice ring.

And I never did have sex with that girl. She had some health issues that had her taking pain killers, and she'd take them, get all kinds of loose and want lovins. I'd demure, as I didn't want her to want the sex only because she was high, and I really didn't want her freaking out the next day because I'd taken advantage of her (she was a teensy wee bit unstable).

The one single time where she was relaxed enough to think sex we were once again in the car (hers this time) and she was a bit freaked out because it wa sa new car and she didn't want to mess up the upholstery. Well, hands, lips, and tongue had once again gotten her spun up, and she just didn't care any more. I was in the passenger seat, leaned way back, and she was over me, both of us still dressed. I let my hands and mouth roam, pushing her shirt up, finding those beautiful breasts, and letting my fingers play between her creamy thighs. She moaned and started to grind against me, gasping, begging me not to stop, screaming, and came like a banshee.

And passed slam out.

Yup, still clothed, on top of me, unconscious. And did it in such a way that meant that I had no leverage. No leverage plus 120lbs of dead weight meant that I was not getting her off of me and over into her seat gracefully. So I checked her vital signs, realised that she wasn't dying, and just sort of held onto her, trying to talk her back out.

Turned out she'd never come that hard before, and further turned out that she was both largely non-functional, and too exhausted for further sex. It wasn't too long after that we broke up, but I found out later that she told more than a couple of people that I was the best lay she'd had in years. Um, yay, I think...

 

[Shankara20]

How bout Friday? Commando Day in the Bistro? or if you're really brave, you can check in that you're Porky Piggin' It. No pants at all.

it has started...


more

indeed

 

[Homburg]

Priceless story.
Homburg's Fables. Has a nice ring.

Thanks, though I'm not sure that I have enough of that sort of stories to produce a worthwhile book =P I could imagine a sort of coffee table thing with glossy artsy photos that were edgy sexy. In this case an obvious choice would be a shapely torso with a front clasp bra, perhaps with a small pen knife laid just below the clasp. Pale skin, lacey black bra, red handled knife, I can see the photo plenty well.

...

Damn. I wish I were a better photographer.

--

As an aside, that anecdote regarding us never actually having sex got me thinking. I've made a pretty large percentage of my partners (admittedly not a large number) and play toys (a slightly larger number) pass out from sex/play. And I don't even do erotic asphyxiation (as it's freakin dangerous).

Makes me wonder.

 

[Shankara20]

Me likes.

but not everyone does...

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Me likes.
So, is this a one-time submission thing, multiple entries, or what?
Oh, and what kind of time frame are we looking at?

I spose one could submit as many entries as one wanted. Last time that was the case as well. And it'll be a bit, like at least a couple of weeks till the deadline. Maybe September first or somewhere in there. Plenty of time.

it has started...


more

indeed

oh YAY! and woot, and suchlike.
My mate once Porky Pigged the entire state of Missouri, all the way across I-70. I am so proud of him.

--

As an aside, that anecdote regarding us never actually having sex got me thinking. I've made a pretty large percentage of my partners (admittedly not a large number) and play toys (a slightly larger number) pass out from sex/play. And I don't even do erotic asphyxiation (as it's freakin dangerous).

Makes me wonder.

Various saucy theories come to mind here.

Good thing you don't live at a high altitude, that's what I'm thinkin'.

bj

 

[Tzara]

As an aside, I was in my teens when I was thwarted by my first incomprehensible bra closure device. I'd never seen any bra but those that clasp at the rear, so my right hand went searching in the middle of her back for the bits what to pull off. She was moaning and gasping because of what my left hand was doing to her thighs, and my lips and tongue to her neck, so she wasn't noticing. It wasn't until my deeply annoyed growl that she realised and let on that the clasp was in the front. Who knew? Stealth bra clasp technology *shrug* So I moved the front, pressing her young body against the inside of the far door, my body moving to loom over hers.

And my head hit the rear view mirror.

Without thinking, my hand smashed upward, driving the mirror forcefully into the headliner. She seemed to appreciate the violence and moaned and writhed some more (yeah, it was factor even back then), and I went back to the task at hand. I turned, I tugged, I pulled, and it thwarted me. Again. And again. And AGAIN. Finally I reached for my keys in the ignition, because I had a small pen knife as a key fob. The young lass was less than thrilled at this idea as she'd just bought the admittedly pretty bra.

As I threw caution to the wind and simply pushed up, exposing her soft breasts, her father woke up and decided to turn on every light in the house and in the yard, making our position and activities a bit less than discreet.

I have despised (and secretly been turned on by) front clasp bras ever since.

Too funny. Brings back memories, though, fer sure.

Kind of same thing with me—left hand was occupied elsewhere, ditto lips and tongue. Right hand is scanning back and forth in the middle of her back and not having much luck finding anything that might open the thing.

Here's kind of where we differ, though. In a manner probably presaging my computer talents, I fire off a subroutine running in my (frankly at this point, largely unused) cortex attempting to analyze the problem. The first suggestion that comes back is Run a systematic grid-based search. So the right hand goes off like an Explorer Scout on Search and Rescue, carefully mapping quadrants of nylon all along her back. Nothing. Whirrr, click! Test sensitivity of detection instrument. Right hand wanders off on sortie to Other Parts of Her Body to check that there is still feeling in the fingertips. A kind of squealing yelp ensues. Systems operational. Whirrr, clicka, clicka, click. Query: Is band elastic? Run finger under band, experimental pull. Input: NO. Whirrr, chunk, chunk! Consclusion: Clasp is elsewhere on garment. Commit general search.

However accurate that analysis was, though, the problem was ultimately solved when she decided herself it was time to remove the damn thing and had it unhooked and down off her shoulders before I could even start search phase two, at which point I killed the subroutine and dedicated all resources to running the core program.

At times like these, the limbic system is much more fun.

 

[Shankara20]

oh YAY! and woot, and suchlike.
My mate once Porky Pigged the entire state of Missouri, all the way across I-70. I am so proud of him.

I just love to drive that way...

neked as well

 

[sassynyc]

And I never did have sex with that girl. She had some health issues that had her taking pain killers, and she'd take them, get all kinds of loose and want lovins. I'd demure, as I didn't want her to want the sex only because she was high, and I really didn't want her freaking out the next day because I'd taken advantage of her (she was a teensy wee bit unstable).

The one single time where she was relaxed enough to think sex we were once again in the car (hers this time) and she was a bit freaked out because it wa sa new car and she didn't want to mess up the upholstery. Well, hands, lips, and tongue had once again gotten her spun up, and she just didn't care any more. I was in the passenger seat, leaned way back, and she was over me, both of us still dressed. I let my hands and mouth roam, pushing her shirt up, finding those beautiful breasts, and letting my fingers play between her creamy thighs. She moaned and started to grind against me, gasping, begging me not to stop, screaming, and came like a banshee.

And passed slam out.

Yup, still clothed, on top of me, unconscious. And did it in such a way that meant that I had no leverage. No leverage plus 120lbs of dead weight meant that I was not getting her off of me and over into her seat gracefully. So I checked her vital signs, realised that she wasn't dying, and just sort of held onto her, trying to talk her back out.

Turned out she'd never come that hard before, and further turned out that she was both largely non-functional, and too exhausted for further sex. It wasn't too long after that we broke up, but I found out later that she told more than a couple of people that I was the best lay she'd had in years. Um, yay, I think...

Well.......goddamn! Not much else to say.
Here, I think this belongs to you.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

I seem to have stumbled upon what ails me .. guilt ... Isn't it odd that something that happened so long ago can clog up my thought processes now in a woman of sound (well sound..ish) mind and body and it's my bodily responses that are suffering for it. Can a child feel that sort of guilt that it carries through the years to become a stumbling block now? It would seem so .. if only I knew how to purge it

I've been dealing with that a lot lately. I beat myself up over stupid mistakes- ALL of them.. some dating back to childhood.Lately, I've been trying to challenge this guilt and shame. I remind myself that my mistakes were minor infractions. I never killed anyone. I never committed a crime, or at least not a felony. LOL The mistakes I relive and criticize myself for are really pathetically small. These are things like lying to my 6th grade teacher, pulling the legs off spiders as a child, and skipping class when I wasn't prepared for a test. The worst thing that I've ever done, using the law as a standard, was shoplifting a pack of NoDoze when I was a teenager.

But, if it were up to me, I'd hang for it! So, I'm trying to fight back the negativity with logical arguments. Journaling about it helps a little in that I can challenge the criticism on paper. It seems to make it more real. Maybe that would help you, UYS.

 

[sassynyc]

it has started...

more

indeed

Where are you finding this stuff?

but not everyone does...

Hopefully, not the typical reaction from 'kitty' at the sight of sans pants.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Got the perrrrrrrrfect stuff for this but not enough time now to put it on will tomorrow tho

 

[Homburg]

oh YAY! and woot, and suchlike.
My mate once Porky Pigged the entire state of Missouri, all the way across I-70. I am so proud of him.

Hell, when I pick MIS up in DC, she's nekkid for the whole ride from the time we leave DC proper to the time we pull into my time, getting dressed only for rest stops, and those are frequently just her throwing my jacket on and nothing else.

So. Damned. Hot.

Various saucy theories come to mind here.

Good thing you don't live at a high altitude, that's what I'm thinkin'.

bj

Because I might be passing out too?

If I discount the two that I did not have repeat performances with with, the percentages get very high.

Y'know, I don't think that I'm all that special as a lover. I have not studied at the feet of white tiger monks or something. I just pay attention to what my lover wants, and, moreover, what she needs. And my need to overwhelm is greater than my need to orgasm, so patience and control are easy.

My personal goal is to inculcate one response in my partners. If asked how many men she has had sex with, the answer will be one, because none of the rest were Men.

Yeah, my cock ain't bad, but my ego is fuckin enormous.

--

Well.......goddamn! Not much else to say.
Here, I think this belongs to you.

This peom is particularly appropos. I call it Mojo as well, and my buddy AP and I frequently discuss our mojo levels, how much mojo a given task eats up, proper utilisation of the mojo. Mojo is all important.

Did I mention that I was still a virgin at the time?

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I've been dealing with that a lot lately. I beat myself up over stupid mistakes- ALL of them.. some dating back to childhood.Lately, I've been trying to challenge this guilt and shame. I remind myself that my mistakes were minor infractions. I never killed anyone. I never committed a crime, or at least not a felony. LOL The mistakes I relive and criticize myself for are really pathetically small. These are things like lying to my 6th grade teacher, pulling the legs off spiders as a child, and skipping class when I wasn't prepared for a test. The worst thing that I've ever done, using the law as a standard, was shoplifting a pack of NoDoze when I was a teenager.

But, if it were up to me, I'd hang for it! So, I'm trying to fight back the negativity with logical arguments. Journaling about it helps a little in that I can challenge the criticism on paper. It seems to make it more real. Maybe that would help you, UYS.

Personally, I think that's one reason many religions create 'baptism' rituals. Logical arguments don't wash away sin; they only make you feel worse because you can't quite get the logic to fix it.

No one else's tools can work for you, though, unless they're right for you specifically. Neither rationality nor ritual will work until you decide to let it, and then both will work. Normally people need a combination of the two - both the left and right brain must be in on it, or to use more modern modeling, both the limbic and the dorsolateral system have to be addressed.

There are baptism and purification and rebirth rituals in just about every religion. I dunno, you have to allow it to work, but it seems to me that something that deep has to be addressed both spiritually AND rationally.

that's just my take, of course.

bj

 

[sassynyc]

My personal goal is to inculcate one response in my partners. If asked how many men she has had sex with, the answer will be one, because none of the rest were Men.

Yeah, my cock ain't bad, but my ego is fuckin enormous.

Narcissus, thy true name is Homburg.
You are special. I say that with every iota of smart assedness I have in me, yet I genuinely mean it. You have this weird hybrid of mammoth ego and humility going on. Go figure. It makes you totally likeable. Don't ever change. Not that you would.

This peom is particularly appropos. I call it Mojo as well, and my buddy AP and I frequently discuss our mojo levels, how much mojo a given task eats up, proper utilisation of the mojo. Mojo is all important.

Did I mention that I was still a virgin at the time?

So, there are actual round table discussions, as odes to the Mojo?
You're killing me.
And I will not comment on that last sentence in bold, as your horn has been tooted enough for one day....proverbially speaking, of course.

 

[Homburg]

Narcissus, thy true name is Homburg.

I am in no way pretty enough for me to wank to.

You are special. I say that with every iota of smart assedness I have in me, yet I genuinely mean it. You have this weird hybrid of mammoth ego and humility going on. Go figure. It makes you totally likeable. Don't ever change. Not that you would.

Aw, shucks.

It's weird. I've had to work at it. I used to be a much less functional combination of super-heated conceit and arrogance mixed with uncertainty and self-doubt. Once I learned that advertising my faults was entertaining, and that I liked joking on my own foibles, everything sort of fell into place.

So, there are actual round table discussions, as odes to the Mojo?
You're killing me.

Yup, and I've used the word in conversations with other toppy types, and mojo has become more commonly used around here as a result.

Mojo = good.

And I will not comment on that last sentence in bold, as your horn has been tooted enough for one day....proverbially speaking, of course.

Well, it has been tooted once or twice today. Not sure if that is honestly enough though