Jewaira’s Boudoir

The tube doors open and I am out onto the platform. Not many people get off at my stop so I walk leisurely. Ahead of me a young teenage couple walk, arms interlaced at the waist. She is wearing low waist jeans and a tiny white tank top that exposes her milky white skin. A small white tag flaps from the middle of her black panties that are visible at her waist line. I suppress a smile as I stand behind them on the escalators going up.

The young man is tall and gangly with long skinny arms that have painfully bony elbows. His jeans are scruffy and faded and his loose clothes only emphasize his thin appearance. His mousy coloured longish hair falls across his face and his shoulders.

On the escalator, they cannot keep their hands off of each other. They engage in a close embrace, their faces hidden from view as they are lost in deep, frantic buccal kisses. His right hand reaches down to her crotch, and he rubs it in the rough, brash manner of youth as she presses against him, giggling. I imagine he would probably like to tear her jeans off.

I try hard to suppress a laugh. Dear God, am I that jaded! I stare nonetheless at the hedonistic exhibition as they continue to indulge their lust before me. As they stand side by side now, almost one normal sized person, his other hand slides up her waist. He exposes the soft white lines and snakes under the thin top to her front, perhaps to fondle her nubile breasts.

I start to wonder if this show is for my benefit and as we get off the escalator, I pass them, relieved. But later on outside the station, I find them ahead of me again for some reason and along the path, they take sudden stops to grope and kiss each other in a frantic display. He stoops over her in praying mantis posture, as he pushes his groin into her crotch. I slow down, not keen to be too close again, lest they decide to find a grassy green patch to further their public exhibition, and then I would be forced to watch.

Soon I take a left turn and lose them, breathing in the cool mid-morning air.

Another day, another trip on the tube. I am standing and I still haven’t perfected the art of reading in that position. I must be comfy in my seat with my handbag secure on my lap and my book poised just so in order to read.

So I cast lazy eyes on the passengers. On my left, a young sandy haired man is looking at a blond woman on his left side. She seems to be engrossed in applying her makeup and is oblivious to those around her. She holds her mouth wide open in a perpendicular line as she daintily applies mascara and looks into her hand held mirror, balancing herself as the train careens and jostles along.

The man exchanges looks with the young brunette woman across from him who is also staring at the make-up session. They exchange a brief knowing smile and a look that expresses surprise at what they are witnessing. A shared moment.

As if he regrets the conspiratorial look, the young man closes his eyes and drifts off to dream - perhaps of the make up girl, because now and then he opens his eyes and glances furtively at her. The brunette girl across from him stifles a yawn and closes her eyes too, but flutters them open now and then to look at the young man before her. She also casts glances at make-up girl, who is still not aware that she is the object of anyone’s interest.

Soon, sandy-haired man gets up. He is well-built, tall, and his arms are nicely toned. Arms that would hold a woman securely. He stands and casts sly last glances at make-up girl who still has not noticed anyone looking at her although she has now put away her make-up kit. Brunette girl looks wistfully at the back of the handsome young man as he leaves the train. She gets up and takes the seat he has just vacated. Probably to retain a part of him.

Soon, a small sized but extremely sculptured man comes aboard. He is wearing long sleeved body-hugging sweatshirt and his muscles looked like they are carved out of his skin. He wears a bright gold cross on a long chain. He is amazingly fit looking.
Brunette girl follows him with interest in her eyes. He stands opposite me now and as he stands there balancing himself, I am intrigued by the massive size of his hands in comparison to his small body size! His arms are long and his hands are wide and  over-sized, with fingers that curl like over-cooked sausages.  He pulls out a thick driver’s education book in his hands and  starts reading.

to be continued

I have never been much of a swimming pool person. Perhaps it is the enclosed confines. I need open water and vast expanses of horizon before me to enjoy the experience.

At a recent gathering, I was disgusted but not surprised to hear about women urinating in public pools like Aqua Park just because they were too lazy to get out and use the toilet. Their excuse was: look at all the babies swimming in diapers! It is the same thing!

Talk continued about all the disgusting things people do in swimming pools.

One woman said:

“Once, in a family resort in Europe, I swam by an amorous couple who were obviously enjoying a quickie, casting furtive glances lest the lifeguard on duty spotted them. I couldn’t swim past fast enough and I felt physically sick.”

Groans of disgust from the women and contorted faces.

Another woman recounts:

“Once in Sharm El-Shaikh I was sitting by the hotel pool watching the kids swim. Suddenly, we noticed a Western couple getting quite intimate in a corner of the pool, and they seemed oblivious to anyone around them. The lifeguard was alerted. He went over to admonish them and he demanded that they leave the pool. Needless to say the man was quite irritated at having his pleasure interrupted and argued very audibly with the pool attendant. It seems he hadn’t finished what he started!”

Cackles of laughter from the women here. “Serves them right!” {the famous gal3athom!}

Not to be outdone, a couple of other women told about the Women’s Only days at some local beach resorts and how they were shocked at all the shameless petting and kissing that went on between scantily clad female couples in front of everyone.

Of course a quick survey of the web shows that sex in the swimming pool is one of the best places to engage in such hot activity. Some ask questions like can you die while having sex in the pool? Is there a danger of getting plugged in and not being able to disengage? Is it possible to have safe sex in a pool?

One answer to all of that: just have it in your own private pool please. No one wants to share your body fluids and risk becoming pregnant! (Another fallacy of course!)