Thursday, November 19, 2009

SIZE SIX BURKA, STILL MOIST

There's a huge discussion over on Dovbear's blog about tzenua (modesty). Apparently someone out there believes that female blogging is untzniusdik (immodest). Women should discretely stay out of sight, even on the internet, and not remind men of their gender, or that they even exist.


I have to agree!

You see, I am a tall Black amazon, early twenties, with large nicely shaped breasts and a statuesque figure. Curves in all the right places, narrow waisted.
I just pretend to be a pudgy middle-aged white male pipe smoker so that my target audience (glandularly stressed fifteen year old boys) does not go into hormonal angst while reading my blog.

[Teenage girls obviously do not read blogs, least of all mine. They are at home tzniusly cooking and cleaning and caring for the younger children. When not making themselves as sexless and unattractive as possible.]


It's a question of covering up anything that might excite the fragile male fancy - men are easily distracted, their kavana and kedusha vanish at a mere hint of femininity. So, dark long skirts, and long-sleeved shirts underneath baggy sweaters. A tichel at all times.
Plus baggy mittens. Because, of course, my elegant silky smooth-skinned hands with the long long tapered fingers (so soft, so soft!) are also sensual.
Even the polished fingernails are ... sensual.
Which, if you are a male between fifteen and seventy, ALWAYS means 'sexual'.

Mittens.

One of my mittens is missing in action. Maybe I accidentally left it somewhere?

Some pervert must have stolen it, and even as we speak! is putting it to his nose and inhaling the feminine aroma left behind. His knees are quivering, he trembles, fever develops. In a frenzy, with repeated deep sniffs at the wrist-opening, he is getting light headed, his knees give way, and barely resisting! he slips moistly to the floor. Blood trickles from his nose, his clothing is drenched.
Oh, it is good. Oh!

I'm certain that my landlord is raiding my sock drawer.
My feet, as you can guess, are attached to the rest of me, and thus serve to remind him of my tall statuesque high pert fully rounded early twenties black breasts. Everything twixt toes and tits.
He's just a normal man - how can he resist?
Snnnffff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If men get any more excited, I may have to wear a burka. Full body sack.

Heaven forfend I should accidentally leave that burka behind anywhere.
What if the mitten-pervert has an older brother?

4 comments:

The back of the hill said...

In keeping with my self-description, please imagine Grace Jones if you have to.

Grace Jones, dressed for the arctic.

In mukluks with floofy mittens.

The back of the hill said...

That's G.R.A.C.E. J.O.N.E.S.
Grace Jones.

NOT Ru Paul!

jonathan becker said...

being jewish, i have to ask: how much for the other mitten?

The back of the hill said...

The price goes up the more you want it.

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