That Provocative Curly Bush

I do admit I'm a Peeping Tom. Not that I'm sitting on my balcony with a pair of binoculars hoping to spot a showering neighbor, or that I'm trying to capture something in the vicinity of nude beaches with my telephoto. Nor do I take up-skirt pictures of girls sitting on the steps of a cathedral, or shove my i-Phone under the hem of a skirt on the platform waiting for the next tube train, or on the escalator of a department store. No not that. What I do mean is that I feel like a Peeping Tom. At heart. I'm a man who enjoys an unexpected and provocative view on that what should stay hidden from the eyes of the world. I´m a man of billowing summer dresses, and an avid enthusiast follower of ladies tennis. I love seeing those small skirts whirling around the athletic hips, offering glimpses of the promises below. I'm a man of translucent fabrics, wet swimwear and tiny pants. But a little bit of pubic hair simply should be present.

An example. I remember swimming one afternoon with friends, male and female, from my student house some thirty years ago, during my university years. One of the girls wore a white bathing suit. Nothing special, the lining was not cut out of the crotch and the suit wasn't three sizes too small. Nothing remotely close to Japanese swimsuit porn. But the dark-haired beauty - a true bitch she was, but a nice bitch - had not shaved herself between her legs, which was pretty obvious after her first dive.

Now what could I add to that? I still remember, which should say enough. I just kept looking. Right now I can still see her sitting on the edge of the pool, with that provocative undeniable curly bush at eye level for those in the water. Perhaps it didn't pass through to her, perhaps she didn't care, or maybe she even did it on purpose. Showing us all her bushy bulge covered by her wet swimsuit. The naive beauty, the carefree nudist, or the horny exhibitionist: all three possibilities provided my vivid imagination countless forest trails to follow. And I followed them all in many horny daydreams. If it had not been such an intolerable bitch I even could have imagined she had done it especially for me. It wouldn't have made a difference to what I felt for her. I did not enchant Her Royal Highness. Fortunately, my fantasy didn't care at all.

The dark curls under the white fabric made the gift wrapping of her sweet treat, a defiant wink to what was hidden underneath. And we, poor men never completely escaping to our childhood, we felt like a child on the day before Christmas. We see the packages under the tree and we want nothing more than to know what's inside. But we're not allowed to simply tear it open. You have to be patient, wait until Christmas Day, and all night you will be the helpless prey of your own fantasies.

Now what had I seen if she had been shaved? Wet lycra tightly stretched over her tanned bare skin, nothing more. And a nice cameltoe for sure. But I probably wouldn't even remember it now. After all I don't remember what her best friend wore that day. And she was also some hot piece of ass to behold.

Tightly shaved pussies tell a whole different story. A naked pussy says very brutally that it is to be admired, to be touched, to be loved. Look at me, I want it. It is the least subtle form of exhibitionism and thus it is also the promise for the shortest pleasure. We skip the strip, the tease, the unpacking of the presents. I want it all and I want it now. The girl has nothing on underneath her skirt and - oops! - for a moment she shows the world what kind of a night she has prepared herself. This will be taking abuse of the very first opportunity that presents itself: the restroom of the restaurant, the rear seats in the cinema, the car, the elevator, whatever. Mind you, nothing to stay away from though. On the contrary: few heterosexual men will be able to withstand such challenges.

But it is a bit like the porn corner of temptation. It reduces the art of seducing to blatantly obvious accessibility. Too easy to get, cold and open ready availability. Nice for its own merits indeed, but it has nothing to do with alluring temptation.