Golden Haired Wild Child
Lately I've taken to looking up Webster's online word-of-the-day with the same relish and anticipation you would reserve for breaking open the fortune cookie at the end of a good meal at your favorite Chinese restaurant. And, as with the fortune cookie, I can't help but find meaning and portent in the message.
Today's word is:
cat's-paw\KATS-PAW\noun
1: light air that ruffles the surface of the water in irregular patches during a calm
2: one used by another as a tool: dupe
3: a hitch knot formed with two eyes for attaching a line to a hook
Isn't that wonderful? And apropos. You see I can't help but feel bad about this whole Spanky thing. As if I had unwittingly made him my cat's-paw. But I've been nothing but honest with him from jump street about everything. The thing is we just want different things and no matter what I tell him, he wants something from me that I can't give him. And vice versa.
Actually, the truth of the matter is we want many of the same things. That's what makes this so crappy. I just don't want them with him. Though I've tried to convince myself otherwise. If only I could fall for him. He's such a sweet heart. He's freaky weird the way I like. Laid back and open to life. He's alternative and can roll with my odd girl ways. All in all he's a total honey. But he just don't make me purr.
Here's the thing. I'm 39 years old, childless and single for the most part. I may be a late bloomer, but I finally know what I want. I want a family. I want a home. I want the domestic life that comes with all that. As kinky and care free as I am, what I really crave is the sweetness of falling asleep in the arms of my lover each night and waking up to his (or her) bad breath, bed head and stupid sleepy self each morning. The delusions of my younger days are gone. I no longer imagine that my Prince or Princess will be charming at all times. I expect a few warts here and there. An evil step sister or two. But the bottom line is my hero(ine) will have to satisfy my curious pussy as well as my heart and mind.
So, there you have it.
So, you all are probably wondering if I let him fuck me last night. And the answer is, of course I did. But I'll spare you the details. The only bit worth mentioning is that our fucking took place under a black light. He looked like a crazed chief from some psychotropic worshipping African tribe. And apparently I looked like some golden haired wild child with iridescent skin. The rest was just business as usual.
Oh, by the way, my challenge of the day is this: use all three definitions of cat's-paw in one sentence. Like this:
Her eyes squinched shut as he wove her braids into a cat's-paw and, ever so carefully, attached her, his very own cat's-paw, to the wench and slowly hoisted her above the water where she dangled in the cat's-paw until her tears summoned the hungry sharks.
Today's word is:
cat's-paw\KATS-PAW\noun
1: light air that ruffles the surface of the water in irregular patches during a calm
2: one used by another as a tool: dupe
3: a hitch knot formed with two eyes for attaching a line to a hook
Isn't that wonderful? And apropos. You see I can't help but feel bad about this whole Spanky thing. As if I had unwittingly made him my cat's-paw. But I've been nothing but honest with him from jump street about everything. The thing is we just want different things and no matter what I tell him, he wants something from me that I can't give him. And vice versa.
Actually, the truth of the matter is we want many of the same things. That's what makes this so crappy. I just don't want them with him. Though I've tried to convince myself otherwise. If only I could fall for him. He's such a sweet heart. He's freaky weird the way I like. Laid back and open to life. He's alternative and can roll with my odd girl ways. All in all he's a total honey. But he just don't make me purr.
Here's the thing. I'm 39 years old, childless and single for the most part. I may be a late bloomer, but I finally know what I want. I want a family. I want a home. I want the domestic life that comes with all that. As kinky and care free as I am, what I really crave is the sweetness of falling asleep in the arms of my lover each night and waking up to his (or her) bad breath, bed head and stupid sleepy self each morning. The delusions of my younger days are gone. I no longer imagine that my Prince or Princess will be charming at all times. I expect a few warts here and there. An evil step sister or two. But the bottom line is my hero(ine) will have to satisfy my curious pussy as well as my heart and mind.
So, there you have it.
So, you all are probably wondering if I let him fuck me last night. And the answer is, of course I did. But I'll spare you the details. The only bit worth mentioning is that our fucking took place under a black light. He looked like a crazed chief from some psychotropic worshipping African tribe. And apparently I looked like some golden haired wild child with iridescent skin. The rest was just business as usual.
Oh, by the way, my challenge of the day is this: use all three definitions of cat's-paw in one sentence. Like this:
Her eyes squinched shut as he wove her braids into a cat's-paw and, ever so carefully, attached her, his very own cat's-paw, to the wench and slowly hoisted her above the water where she dangled in the cat's-paw until her tears summoned the hungry sharks.
posted by Curious Pussy at Friday, June 03, 2005
2 Comments:
Great word, and great anaolgy to a fortune cookie. But be warned, if you get too comfortable with your word play, it can be off-puting to some who think you are being snobby or condescending -- this is especially true if challenging yourself is part of who you are at your core. Trust me, I've learned the hard way that being myself can be offensive to others (I know, it sounds conceited, but using precise words is part of my nature and I feel condescending to others ONLY when I try to talk down to their level, as they accuse me of doing).
As for your challenge, try this:
"Her abdomen rippling with a cat's-paw and her cat's-paw bound hands aching behind her, Curious Pussy urgently sought her release in a wrenching, long-denied but oh so glorious release; alas, she was indeed Spanky's miserable cat's-paw as she fully realized, yet again, that he would never satisfy her submissive, soul-deep need and desire to be exquisitely dominated."
How about that? That was fun! I feel so inspired that I just might start a short story on it!! Thanks.
Oh my goodness, I never stopped to think I might be Spanky's cat's-paw. What a twist that would be! Sadly, one of the truths about Spanky is that he's incapable of providing me even a hint of release, much less meeting my need to be dominated.
Your challenge response was fabulous if only because you used "release" twice in a sentence. I love a man who unabashedly breaks the rules!
Fuck On George!
c.p.
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