CHAPTER 1
PIRH
pronounced /p?r/
When panties are worn panties get torn.
Off ...
On a good night,
I step over them as I stumble out of bed the morning after
and hold my laughter.
I caught them with a quick glare to the right side of my bed
while walking to the bathroom with a blank stare.
I imagined them here or there.
On the bathroom floor after a long hot shower;
on top of the dryer.
I stumbled across them during lunch
When I reached for my lip gloss in the bottom of my pocketbook.
After I got a wedgie three times in my 9 am meeting; I
paused.
I had a PIRH moment.
I stumbled across them one morning
while I put my daughter in her car seat in the back of the car.
The lining was making noticeable imprints in my tight black
cocktail dress the night before;
so I had another PIRH moment.
I stumbled across them in the inner folds of my umbrella
one spring afternoon submerged in water up to my patella.
Preventing any oncoming sickness,
I immediately removed my bra, my outfit, my shoes,
and had yet another PIRH moment.
Panties are a
Reflection of You
Panties that only I can see.
Why be stylish when they're just for me?
Panties that I may let he or she see me in;
Panties are femininity served with a sweet, unique side of
intimacy.
LET ME SEE!!!
I need a full length mirror especially
on those days my panties are sexy.
Silky or colorful indeed;
I like it.
Panties are power.
Are you a cotton-fitted type of gal?
High-waisted with morale of those women from the Victorian
ages?
A hip hugger to accentuate your flat abs?
Or do you wear thongs that get lost in your roundabout a**?
Would you prefer v-kinis, comfortable boyshorts, or a pair of
lace bikinis?
Panties are a reflection of you!
For they are just mere fabric until they cling to your curves
that then create a dangerous urge of lust.
Irresistible to those who see, said the blind man,
as he took a peek - with his hands and wanted to repeat.
Panties are freedom that women dream to be
freed from In our inner-most sacred thoughts alone.
NO LOVE IN ME
I love that you love me
I even love the idea of you
But I don't love you
I only love what you do.
In doing your best you
Caress me like a modern-day Monroe
Ensuring my wallet overflows;
I'm merely taking what you offer.
And you offer your whole-self
But I pick you apart
And choose to use
The BEST parts.
So I leave your tainted heart ...
For your wife.
I Think I'm In Love
I think I'm in love!
I'm in love with my breasts.
They are inimitably placed;
they are perfectly shaped.
I get a handful when I grope them and play.
The way they bounce when I jog takes me away.
My chestnut brown areolas are as responsive
as the strings on a viola.
Covering them with a bath towel after a shower is an issue,
so I tuck the towel under my fatty tissue.
This way I don't conceal the view when
I am bare in front of a mirror.
My breasts, my breasts I love them, I swear.
I think I'm in love again!!
I'm in love with my derriere.
The way it sways fills my darkest days
with incandescent lighting.
Aloft and mighty, some would assume it's naturally inviting.
Soft to the touch, my toosh yearns to
be rubbed by the right hands.
Or my right hand of course.
It fills out each pair of panties differently,
depending on the style of each.
Visually it keeps me intrigued,
so much that I can't stop taking full-length selfies of me.
It's easy to get lost in these curves, so my hands
get motion sickness every night this occurs.
My derriere, my derriere I love it, yes sir.
I think I'm in love again!!!
I'm in love with my genitals.
They are the pinnacle of my love.
It's most recognizable as the faucet to my soul.
The way it throbs at an instant leaves my panties soaked.
... if I'm wearing any ...
Even though my vagina has a few layers less than
the ocean, it's just as likely for you to get lost in.
A euphoric sense of sauciness guarantees
my lovers come back for more.
So I've been told, "I'm sure you can bottle your
natural juices and sell them at a drugstore."
I'm flattered. As I chuckled, "Aye! If you
like 'em, that's all that matters!"
My genitals, my genitals, I'm loving them, for sure.
untitled
It's me that I see, nothing more nothing less.
It's hard to keep my eyes off myself!
Knowing I'm this way 'cause of me, I confess.
The reflection in my mirror
has my mind in contemplation.
And so I advise everyone not to rely on
someone else's admiration.
You have your own mind, fine-tune it to your life and
OWN YOUR REFLECTION!
Dear Mister
Actions speak louder than words and your words are absent.
This thing that we pretended to have was just a bad habit.
Meaning the thoughts we had weren't fully formed
and if they've formed they haven't manifested.
Now that we're a thing of the past
I realize the batteries were making us happen.
You were nothing special.
Your silence was uncomfortable
and your vibrations became a reflection of you.
The feelings I sought after for you were
intimate and headed in one direction.
Arguments we should've had, we never had
'Cause you were never open-minded
and I-blinded by the aloof kinda person you were disguising.
You didn't express your pain points.
You sat silent self-inflicting a war
and I-intentionally ignored.
I now know why you don't tell me you love me.
It's 'cause you can't love me outside of the bed
Like you show me love, but feelings for me are dead.
Like we have long sex, but making love doesn't happen.
I don't benefit from your time, yet I open up to
you sporadically when
you want to play.
I mean a lot of time spent goes a long way.
Therefore, my first reaction stands –
so it's Panties In my Right Hand.
But whenever I have a really long
day, your thrust and aggression slowly fade away.
Dear Mister Dildo,
You are being replaced.
FETISH
Your storms provoke a lover's war.
I'm still unsure what your intention is,
So I don't know what to fight back with.
You weather a storm simply to distract me?
Soon as I look away you sneak in my drawer.
Boy what are you doing?
You're caught red handed.
It's at this point you said you did no damage,
But you admit that you have a fetish.
And you go on to tell me you did all this
Just to sniff my panties??
Wait! I don't know how to feel about that ...
MINE
You make life worth living
through the stressors of each day;
You give me a feeling
... ... that takes my breath away.
Out of a dark and isolated drawer
into a realm of colorful life,
You brighten each of my days
whenever you're by my side.
You make me one of two ways-
that's either wet or dry.
There's not a time you haven't rescued me from
dripping excessively down my thigh.
This is why your company is always welcome.
You transform my dreams into reality And
bring on a natural high.
My undies, My drawls, My panties
You're mine, mine, mine.
LIPSTICK. LIPGLOSS. (Part 1)
Lipstick. Lip gloss is the sauce HE wants to lick off. She sucks it and tossed me to the middle of the bed; attempts to lower my panties and starts giving me head.
PAUSE
Her eyes piercing mine she says, "Bitch where 'ya panties?" I'm looking at the ceiling thinking ummmm they must've got lost when what's his name was licking me off.
My eyeballs were stuck in the upper right-hand corner of my head as I remembered him flicking them far.
Slowly shifting my eyes toward the left, my thoughts were racing and I recalled this happening all the while I was massaging his balls.
Guess I got caught up in the moment and showed my ass off. LITERALLY
So I'm stuck staring into space silently thinking how I couldn't resist his long sensual tongue and the instant it touched me; we became one.
As time goes on she's staring me up waiting for me to respond, "Oh, so now you're MY mom? I don't have to wear shit. No panties. No bra! I live by PIRH, not by politically correct laws." She threw my leg to the wall and hopped off-the bed while I'm tryna get my balance so I could grab this chick by her jaw.
I ain't see her so I scooted to the edgewhere I then seen her silhouette reaching in the bottom drawer, "Yo, what you doing? Come here! You acting all ..."
She starts walking toward me with her strap strapped on. She tilted her head and asked me, "Why am I acting all what?
Jealous ... no I'm hot. You turn me the fuck on! So, bend over baby. Ain't this what you want? You going take this hard on!"
I said, "No, not twice in one day. I wanna squirt on ya face." She entered me slowly and I pushed her off, which led to us wrestling on the mattress. I squeezed her forearm to get her to chill, then I bit her bottom lip.
Uh-huh! All about this here lip gloss ... she going have me fucking a plastic dick.
Fuck it. I'll fuck it for her, so I slurped her lips and shit that was it! I was moaning going crazy and shit.
Next thing I know what's his name walked in ...
LOSE ME ALREADY
I wish I knew
just how to stay distant from you.
I wish me losing you
would've facilitated you losing me, too.
So lose me already. I won't be offended.
I wish I was persistent
in avoiding your consistence.
I wish I knew
just how to steer clear of you.
I wish me pushing you away
would've made you disappear.
So lose me already, I don't want you near.
I wish I could make good sense
of your attendance given that your presence
does nothing but create a hinderance to my day;
fact being, in your absence I'm usually more active.
I wish I knew just how to convince you to keep me out your system.
So lose me already.
I wish- I just wish you would lose me completely;
but instead, you return every month like, "Hello again
B****!" You show up unwelcomed causing pain to my
midriff and widening my hips.
My menses! My menses!
You're aggressive. You're so controlling.
You revoke my PIRH moments 7 days out of 30.
I hate you! I hate that you make me miss my daily dosage of
penetration.
I can't take you in general,
Especially considering that you follow me on dates.
My menses! My menses!
Puhhleeease LOSE ME ALREADY!!!
ALL THE WAY LEFT
Why would you want me when I'm broken
Noticeably.
I understand you don't focus on that 'cause you see me in
my entirety, but that's followed by scrutiny as you continue to
pursue me. Much as I don't even try to beBetter.
I'm amazing, I'm smart, I'm witty, I'm strong.
But you're the first to say I don't admit when I'm wrong ...
That I never apologize, I give you attitude, the blues, and so on.
Like I told you before, I may be all those things, I still have flaws.
I don't want to be wanted;
I don't care to be admired;
The utmost respect is all I desire.
You want me to want more;
You say I deserve better;
No stress-
I have enough love for myself.
I am comfortable making love to myself;
My right has five personality traits;
All the while my left is stuck on hate.
And when I let it get inside my body shakes uncontrollably.
I don't need your manhood taking control of me.
My feet are well grounded, my mind's in a cloud.
Yes I'm floating through life, but
I don't need a designated driver.
You see, I know that I'm broken and it's beyond restoration.
Yes I like sex, but I love masturbation.
But at the end of the day it's not up to you to persuade me.
Like when you told me to go right
I went all the way left and steered straight off the cliff.
Now you're front row at my funeral teary-eyed
What if ...
You didn't fall for me so hard?
To the point that you even loved my stinky drawls.
Presumably you'd be better off.
My right hand has 5 personality traits;one for each finger. And since each finger pleases differently, they have to be perceived as unique.
Let's talk about the pointer finger that takes control and gets things done. It's aggressive enough to take what I want, whenever I want. This is why it remains number one.
Seductive lies in the middle and that convinces me to open wide. Sometimes I show it to others, but only I can put it inside. It has so much power; the others can't move without it. I tend to lose control whether it's twitching fast or slow. This is why it reminds me mostly of his tongue. Or hers.
The nerve- that this ring finger has making demands when it's the most complacent part of my hand. Drying me up, but still having fun. It gives me the chance to breathe slow ... until my mind can catch up.
Pinky demands a rematch most often because short and sweet is never enough for me. It teases me until I have a fit; not only is it stubby, but it's also very distant.
And of course, to wrap this up let me tell you about my thumb. It's choreographic movements beats my clit just like a drum. My body twists and turns to align itself with the rhythmic outcome. I bet you can guess what happens next!
As you can see I have so much fun; this is why my right hand is second to none. And not one of you can judge me because at one point or another, it's the same that you've done!
Free Bra'Ling
The first thing I do when I walk in the door is not take off my shoes; I remove my bra.
Compression Uncomfortableness
Those are just two reasons for me to be FREE BRA'LING at any moment! I will share with you a few others as long as you're open and honest ...
We were at a baseball game one summer afternoon when I started sweating profusely under my fatty tissue. That's the area where the underwire of your bra cups your boobs.
I didn't want to embarrass my family, but I couldn't take the uncomfortable wetness any longer. I held off as long as I could, but I did it; I took my bra off and they knew I would! I didn't intend to walk around the ball park with my tits hanging so I stalled. But I wanted to feel free and its times like these when you all can see ... me FREE BRA'LING.
Do guys walk around with their shirts off? All the time!
So why should females feel confined to elastic, metal, and underwire?
I think it's ridiculous the stressors society places on us. This is why I'm being Petty like Tom. I'm a bad girl y'all and I don't like restrictions. I'm free falling.
FREEEEEE FAAAALLING!
Ladies if you're bold enough Sing the song and FREE BRA'L with me Next time you want to take it off.
The mall, the bar, the gym, and oh especially in the car. FREE BRA'L!!!
Road trips and traveling long distances is the worst time to bother with a bra. It was on this particular day when I came up out of it in the Shell Gas Station. The elastic was squeezing and pinching my skin so tightly I could barely breathe. I freed my cleavage. Come on and say it with me. FREE BRA'LING. If you're guilty.
One thing I noticed about that day is that my eyes were not on my face. And no one looked away from my eyes as they engaged in conversation with me. After so long I thought it'd be fun to play along with someone. In fact, someone that's polite enough to maintain eye contact.
With it being late November, the nightly wind whistled winter as it pierced my nipples. I shook my unmentionables in the gas station parking lot. You ought to know I'm FREE BRA'LING and didn't care if I got caught.
I did catch a few lingering stares while I flung my hair in the cold night air. So I blew each of them a kiss. Ashamed that their stares didn't go unnoticed, they looked away and continued to focus on something, anything else but me.
Whether you're at work, on a plane, at PTA, or on a date. FREE BRA'L!!!
If I had it my way, I'd only wear bras when my girls really need a lift. And that's not too often - 'cause they're perky and they sit imperfect, yet nicely. Caged days are behind me. And all free bra'ling women have the same mentality.
Conservative, yet Free
Conservative, that's me.
Risque, indeed.
A touch of class you see.
A girls' undies protects her pearls and
A womans' panties colors her world.
It's something we've all gotten used to.
As we transition from protectiveness to actual sexing ...
this is my message to you:
Stay true to you;
Embrace your body as it changes;
Love your curves
and occasionally live out your imagination.
Derriere Beginnings
I value our time apart because it allows me to miss you.
Too much time apart creates an issue;
I need to feel what is real and I can't feel it if you aren't here.
When you're here, why are you scared of letting go and letting me in?
Damned thong!
If neither one of us can admit the warmth felt, we can't build a new beginning that may be meant.
Better yet, it's probably best that we stay kept. Apart.
The last thing I need is my suggestiveness depending on a thong.
Figuratively speaking, my derriere paid no heed to a need for extra added voluptuousness.
It was when I seen a silhouette of my thong rising above my jeans that I decided to wear thongs everyday of every week.
It wasn't long before I grew annoyed at the discomfort of them clinging.
So, I resorted back to panties thinking ... isn't it ironic that thongs more so end up on the side of my bed each morning?
I had a feeling I should've ended that damned thong from the beginning.
But my derriere, mmm my derriere, had different intentions.
My GPS gets me Home
Siri gets me close,
but not close enough before signal is lost.
I know I recall a railroad and it's where I have to cross.
So you are my compass;
From you I take direction.
The roadmap of your eyes
guides me through a stream of rivers, lakes,
and crystallized oceans.
Where the water is constantly flowing.
Not from a body of water nor a faucet,
but from MY body.
And just like that his head is drowning.
SHUCKS!
We are soaked every time we reach home.
