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WHAT’S SEXY? We ask People from Different Cultures

admin — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:38:46 +0000

From head to toe, cultures around the globe
garner diverse perspectives on what it is to be sexy.

By Maria Tettamanti
Photography by Crawford Morgan

When Victoria’s Secret launched its “What is Sexy?” print and television campaigns, the ad designers didn’t leave much to the imagination. The lingerie powerhouse’s definition of desire was depicted through saucy snapshots of supermodel Gisele Bündchen in dental-floss-like lingerie while her unnaturally bountiful bosom runneth over lace-trimmed cups. The campaign undeniably defined America’s answer to sexy and that was:

Skin and bones + boobs to boot = sexy

Argh. The ads made me want to run to the nearest plastic surgeon and ask for a simultaneous boob job and tummy tuck. I’m not kidding. Being a reasonable woman, I didn’t do so, but I have met an American gal or two – sigh – who have fallen for this What is Sexy? stereotype.

Funny but true, this pea-brain Super Bowl halftime commercial actually stimulated my mind and begged the question: “On a global scale, what is sexy?” So I forged onward and asked folks of every creed and color the aforementioned question. Of course their answers were personal opinions and generalizations, and not scientifically proven facts, but they were nonetheless funny, frank, stimulating and sometimes heartwarming insights. Read on and you’ll see just what I mean.

“In order to exist, you must be thin. Otherwise, you are wallpaper.”

Blame Barbie, blame Hollywood, blame Brazil – the majority of the American men and women I encountered sided with my aforementioned theory that American men like huge tits, small waists and legs that go on for hours.” Many women seem to agree with this notion. Says one American woman, “Open up any publication or watch any TV show – the models and actresses are all skin and bones. It’s no wonder I find myself yoyo dieting and entertaining the thought of going under the knife.”

“Bling it on”

To add on to the superficiality quotient, many of my female U.S. specimens admitted to being attracted to – surprise, surprise – a gentleman by the name of Benjamin Franklin. “I want a man who can bring home the bacon – that’s sexy. I don’t want to have to pick up the dinner tab,” says one woman. Another emale source adds, “Ambition makes me so horny.” I like to call this gold-digging dogma as the cult of “Bling Believers.” After digging up a few bling believers, it’s evident that many American women are attracted to men with thick wallets and bank accounts surpassing seven digits.

“Women are valued for how they look, rather than for who they are.”

So while my American guinea pigs proved to be quite superficial, they were not alone in this shallow train of thought. In Argentina, for example, one male source says, “Argentina is known for its beautiful people. Our women are super skinny and sexy.” Personally, I couldn’t agree more. On a recent trip to the Paris of South America, I was shocked by just how “pin thin” every woman there is compared to the rest of the well-fed world. To be honest, I’m 5′9″ and 135 ounds, and I truly felt like a wildebeest among Buenos Aires’ boney babes. So it didn’t surprise me when I researched the fact that in Argentina, nearly 12 ercent of the adult female population suffers from anorexia and bulimia. That’s an estimated three times greater than in the U.S.”Women in Argentina are very stressed out over their appearance and their bodies,” says Juan Luis Linares, a psychiatrist in Albuquerque, New Mexico. “Our society is characterized by a certain machismo in which women are valued for how they look, rather than for who they are, so women are determined, at all cost, to be skinny, because that is what is currently perceived as beautiful.”

“I like big butts and I cannot lie.”

Well, it’s refreshing to know that not everyone believes bare bones are beautiful. In fact, the verdict is in: almost every African-American and Cuban I queried admitted to the sexual prowess of a “booty-licious” bottom. Think J. Lo or picture Beyonce jiggling her moneymaker. The booty has been immortalized through these entertainers. Even songs (like Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back”) and poems have been dedicated to the glorious gluteus maximus and there’s a reason: some folks find big butts beautiful. One African- American source says it best: “Full, voluptuous bottoms are very much appreciated.” Another source states, “My African-American culture is all about thickness. Thickness being the lovely roundedness of breasts, hips, butts and thighs.” She adds, “I think both black men and women appreciate curves.” My Cuban informant says, “Sexy in my culture means curves, baby – in all the right places.”

“It takes a pretty face and grace.”

I was pleasantly surprised – because my Indian interviewees mentioned neither breasts nor buttocks. One woman from Punjab, India says, “For women in our culture, it’s typically sexy for them to have long black hair, big brown eyes, pink lips, a slender frame, and a complexion of the fairer side. These sexy standards are by all means changing in modern times, but typically this is what is portrayed in films and desired by some men who are looking for marriage partners.” As for the opposite sex, she adds, “For men, the standards are pretty much the same except sexiness is also defined by being taller and more muscular. It’s also sexy if they have a bubbly, outgoing personality, since Punjabis are definitely talkative, energetic people. Oh, and if you can dance bhangra or giddha well, then you’re definitely hot stuff!” Refreshing, right? Even more fascinating, one Indian source says, “Men appeal to the neck and throat of women – a woman’s grace, and to a certain extent, sex appeal is all in her throat area. Slender, longer necks and throats are more graceful.”

“The whiter, the better.”

I found the replies of my Honduran and Mexican interviewees most intriguing, for what they found provocative was rather peculiar. Their answers coincided with the notion that looking “white/American” (picture highlighted tresses and light skin) is deemed desirable. A Honduran source says, “Blonde and fair-skinned women garner a lot of attention, as there are not too many of them. This fascination fuels the thriving beauty salon business, as all women regularly lighten their hair.” It’s apparent that some South Americans shun their sun-kissed skin, dark manes and extrinsic appeal – and would rather channel the stereotypical “American” – blonde and fair. My Mexican male source puts it best: “I like gringas – light skin, light eyes, light hair. They are rare here in Mexico.” Proof of this proposal is evident in Latin American beauty pageants. Just take a gander at their contestants – they are generally very “white” looking and nothing like the “norm.” I truly find it ironic how we Americans revere the exoticness of the South American people and viceversa.

“Meet me at the beauty parlor.”

As a loyal fan of tri-monthly manicures and pedicures and constant trips to the hair salon, I was in total accordance with my Lebanese interviewees. A Lebanese source says, “I can assure you that Lebanese men love well-groomed ladies – Lebanese ladies get their hair done once a week. Women will not walk out of the house without their best clothes on, hair done, nails manicured and makeup on.”

“I dig my people.”

They say that “Bird’s of a feather, flock together,” and this proverb strongly pertains to my Jewish informants. Each one admitted to the belief that what they find appealing are people of their same faith. “I really find Jewish men sexy,” says one respondent. “Religion is very important to my family, so I would never date outside my Jewish roots. With that said, being Jewish is desirable.”

“Foot loose and fancy free.”

One Chinese source alluded to the fierceness of the foot, which was no surprise as foot binding (the act of crippling feet to stop growth and to appear “lily footed”) has China-based roots. Foot binding is intended to make a woman more desirable, increase her “marriageability” and increase her social status. My Chinese interviewee says, “Women’s feet are sexy, but feet are really just another part of the human body, one with a tremendous number of very sensitive nerve endings. Incorporating foot play into lovemaking can foster intimacy and trust.” Unfortunately, in our American culture, feet have become taboo – they symbolize dirtiness, animalism, ugliness and something to keep invisible.

From head to toe, cultures around the globe garner diverse perspectives on what it is to be sexy. But at the end of the day, this question can be answered with the old saying, “Different strokes, for different folks.” I like to think my Australian source classifies sexiness the best. He says, “I’ve been married for 20 years. And what I find sexy is her smile. No matter how old we grow, her smile stays the same, and that is sexy.”

http://www.visavismag.com/content/view/43/76/

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A Nasty Story

admin — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 10:23:28 +0000

So this chick, in her 20’s, goes into a health clinic. The nurse takes her to an exam room and asks What are you here to see the doctor for today? The young woman says I’ve got a very foul odor coming from down there and its getting worse as the weeks go by. I shower several times a day and nothing is helping the smell.

The nurse is taking notes.

Then the young woman tells the nurse, Will you please tell the doctor something for me, I’m too embarrassed to tell him myself? The nurse, being a health care professional, says OK. So the young woman begins to tell the nurse A couple of weeks ago my boyfriend and I were about to have sex and in foreplay he was down on me. While down there he put tuna fish in me and was eating out of my vagina. Trying to keep a straight face, the nurse puts her head down and keeps writing.

After the nurse leaves the patient in the exam room, she makes her way to the doctors private office and proceeds to tell him what she was just told. A look of disgust and disbelief was evident on the doctors face. But, just like the nurse, he is a health care professional and has a duty to help this woman.

He goes into the exam room, with a different female nurse, to exam the young woman. Comes out, about fifteen minutes later, with a petri dish containing chunks of rotten tuna fish.

This young woman let her boyfriend shove tuna up her cooch, then proceed to screw her. You know what that did, right? Yup, shoved the shit up in her. And for WEEKS she’s been walking around with a foul odor.

Where do these stupid people come from?

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My Lady Teacher

admin — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 21:33:58 +0000

The Female Teacher
It hapened just as I have described it here in this Story, which is fondly embeded in my memory. I had to write it down, because of how many times women had complained to me that her first time was her worst ever, because men are faar too often nothing but inconsiderate Chauvinistic Pigs and think , naturally with their Dick, onlyabout themselfe. It happened before I was 20 at the beginning of summer1976. Although I was no longer “wet behind the ears”, but not guaranteed dry. At least not dry enough for Mary. I had just separated from my 4 years older girlfriend Jutta, after I found her diary by chance when I was cleaning. Oh my, did we have a crazy time. I had never seen a diary before, left alone led one myself. So I was curious and opened the last pages, just to find out what she was thinking about me. I leafed through in shock, more and more backwards, only to find out that I was not alone, apart from the fact that all the other were GI’s. I met Jutta beginning of March 76 in a Beer parlor in Frankfurt where I had a part-time job as a waiter.

I got the position because I looked like I was 5-6 years older than I actually was. Damned Heroin. Back then in the group-home where I was living at the time, I was beaten to it by the other group member’s. I guess it’s called peer pressure. – Well, I would say that it was the reinsurance practice of another group member, belonging to the youth home, which was running from within his drug market with Hashish, Pot, Heroin, and Speed. He had all of us 7 Boys, 16 to 21 years brought onto the needle, with brute force when needed, as insurance not to be betrayed by us to the Caretakers, Educators, or even the Police; which we did not, because of our dependence on him, to supply us with more drugs. I ran off when he discovered that I only pretended to inject the poison into my arms, with the consequence that I was “fixed up” again in the middle of the following night by his “Gang”. My flight ended in Frankfurt and of course the night’s were already too cold by the end of October 75, so I started hanging out in Bars and Restaurants and helping out as a Dishwasher, until I finally got stuck as a Waiter at the “Old Smuggler”. When I met Jutta, it somehow sparked between us and after her third or even fourth visit, she waited until 4.am (closing time) and took me to her apartment in Offenbach.

At the Bus stop, she was quite pushy and did not rest until I stopped to block her. She said that by this time at a Sunday morning, there was no way that someone was up and outside and stuffed my raging hard boner in her mouth and into her throat. Oh my God. Never before had I met such a Sex-crazed Girl. She actually managed to suck the last drop out of me and lift my zipper just in time before the Bus came around the corner. The rest is history. For the next three days we only rose from the bed to eat, steal food and cigarettes, to smoke hashish or go at it again, even in the Bathroom. But there we hurried to get at it in the tub or shower. One of her Kitchen Chairs, not considering our combined weight, collapsed and it was only by luck that we survived the break without a scratch. Otherwise, we were permanently at it in bed, just like the proverbial rabbits. Then, one day, I had my wake up call. While Jutta had gone out to “see some Friends” as she had done before, I was cleaning the house and stumbled over her Diary. Since I had never seen anything like it, left alone kept one myself, I started reading from the rear, in order to find out what she really thought of me. But instead, I got the shock of my life…. There it was. She did not go out, just to “see some Friends”, as she had explained to me. I found out that she was picking up G-I’s, just to hop into bed with them, one at a time, and every time that there was a note about it, she also had written that she hoped to be pregnant again….. that Jutta was constantly horny, simply, because 5 years earlier, when she was 16, her own mother had forced here to hide with the Grandparents in northern Germany because of an unplanned pregnancy. “The shame, the shame….

And all of town knows that the father is a notorious criminal.” Jutta was forced with death threats by her own mother, to release her Son immediately after birth for adoption, before she would be allowed to come back home to Offenbach. In the two months that I was with her, she had gone out alone for several times, staying out for one night or two. And she got naked with the others, as she wrote in her diary, each time with the final note: “I hope, this time I’m pregnant now.” That was it; – By, by Jutta. There I was. Alone again – but thank God, I also had my old job back, in order not to lose my own apartment. One Sunday morning about 5-6 weeks later at a tram stop at the Frankfurt Fairs was a very good looking woman, I guessed her to be early to middle thirties and about 5’7” tall. She was apparently a bit anxious. Normally, I walked home after work. But I knew that the area we were at was not exactly the safest. So I decided to wait for the first Tram and engaged the woman in a conversation to calm her down. She confessed that a few friends had left her in a “Italian Trattoria“, without telling her that they were leaving while she was at the bathroom. We still had to wait about another 40 minutes until the arrival of the first Trolley car. She asked me what a young man like me, was doing here so early on a Saturday morning. I said that I just had gotten off from work an hour before and had gone to a nearby “Restaurant” for a snack. Because of my Slang she noticed that I was from “out of town” and wanted to know what had leaded me to move into the big City. By then the first tram had arrived and we hopped on. During the ride, I told her a little bit of me, my life in the home and my job as a waiter. Some when during the trip, I offered her to bring here home, before I would go home myself. She accepted my offer. Of course I said nothing of Heroin since I was clean again. Anyway, Not a single injection in the last 5 months. She then began to tell about herself and her husband whom she had hardly seen for 18 months.

Yes, he called her every couple of days from Egypt, where he worked as a structural engineer at the Aswan Dam. Yes, his company paid for a ticket every two months for one week of paid home leave. But every time his ailing mother was more important and wanted to have nothing to do with her daughter in law, because she surely was not good enough for “her Boy”. Finally we got off of the Tram in Ginheim, almost right in front of the Building where she lived in a two bedroom apartment; all by herself. I said goodbye, ready to take the next Tram back to Bockenhein, but as she opened the front door, she called me back and asked me if I would please come upstairs for a coffee, because she had long ceased to talk with someone so well. It happened as it came. We both were, in spite of the coffee, pretty tired and she offered me to sleep in the huge bed next to her, because she did not want to be alone. Despite our tiredness, we were still talking into the late morning, but a little later we both fell asleep. Some when later I woke up. Suddenly, still half asleep, I realized that at some point in the “middle of the night,” we had snuggled up together in our sleep, and the sweet scent of her brown Hare tickled me in the nose, finally waking me up entirely. I turned to lay on back and she snuggled into my arm like a little girl, who was looking for protection against whatever. The fact that the left of her 36-C breasts was freed from her nightgown led to that my “little guy”, was not so not so small anymore and my excitement and my “little guy” grew more and more with every second. I could not help but to rub my 6.5’ cock, while I gently caressed her nipple with my left. This caused it to stiffen, and I rubbed and twirled it with tender pressure of my fingertips while I jerked my rod more quickly. Maria suddenly stirred and pressed my hand away, only to replace it with her own gentle fingers. Slowly and very gently, she increased my pleasure feelings until I confessed to her that I was going to explode very soon if she wouldn’t stop. She smiled at me and said, “I bet you won’t”, and got up to take off her nightgown and panties.

I lay there with pain in my balls and dick. I was trembling with arousal but was prohibited by her to continue by myself. Finally, Mary came back into bed and snuggled her beautifully shaped and feminine, warm body against my rather slight build stature. Suddenly her hand was lying on my honker again, while she leaned over and kissed me tenderly and longingly at the same time on my Lips. She kissed me on my Eyes … my Cheeks…., Forehead….., Shoulders……, Nipples……., across my stomach, down to my hard-on which she finally swallowed. She continued the hike of her tender lips to suck on my balls oh so softly and tickled them with her tongue before she returned to my lips. While our tongues entwined in trembling passion, she sat down over me, directing my poker to her entrance and sat slowly down on me, impaling herself with a gentle moan on my raging hard on. Slowly she began to move up and down, straight up, so far that my stiff Bolt almost lost contact before sliding down on him again. Her narrow hole caressed my hot rod and suddenly I felt a rhythmic pressure exerted on my Rod by her vaginal walls. I couldn’t stand it any more and wanted to start ramming like a horny Rabbit. But Maria got apparently angry with me, pressed me onto her bed with the weight of her body and I was condemned to immobility and she said in a husky but tender voice: “Hush sweetie…, please, lay still…, stop and try to enjoy it as best as you can. When you shove it in so wild, you only hurt me…, slow down until I’ve gotten used to your size. Then, if you still want to, you can get a little faster, but be careful what you do”. It was just wonderful…, wonderful to LOVE her. Jutta… With her…, it was just wild, unrestrained and egoistic sex for purpose. But this… Mary… Indescribable, simply indescribable. She asked me to watch for her reaction to my actions, for it would show me whether she felt comfortable or not. As soon as I did as I was told, I realized how wonderful sex; No, erotic passion could be. I enjoyed to slowly and deeply enter into her. Then, sudden and unexpectedly, I hammered her Pussy with short, quick but not too deep strokes, only to fall back into a slow and gentle rhythm. And all this just to see, and hear, how well she did under my treatment. Finally I felt an almost sadistic pleasure to delay her orgasm, or better yet, to add one more while I kept myself under control as to not to come too soon. Suddenly I was struck with fear. Tears ran down her beautiful but fairly restrained face while she was whimpering as if she was in pain.

I wanted to pull out and get off from her, but immediately she grabbed me with her legs and cried, ” Nooo…, don’t stop…, please don’t stop now…, go on, solid, solid, solid, Ohhhhh… Thomas” and her vaginal walls gripped around my boner. She threw her arms about my neck, increasing the pressure of her legs around my waist, and clung to me, while her hips seemingly developed a live on their own. Now I knew that all was well, and within 20 to 30 powerful strokes, I emptied myself deep into my quivering, whimpering Lust bundle, screaming out my pleasure. We fell asleep immediately almost and did not wake up until the next morning. While Mary was curled onto me, I began to kiss her gently awake. I did this by kissing her angelic face over and over with delicate Kisses until she opened her eyes. Then my lips began an affectionate journey, down to her soft, yet firm breasts where I sucked at her Blackberry sized nipples, which ran a comfortable shiver over her body and brought a lustful moan from her lips, as I was going on further down across her tummy until I reached her clitoris. From there on she was lost. Under my sucking lips, I found her pleasure-pearl with the tip of my tongue, which I caressed affectionately. First hard, now slow and then fast and persistent. Her hips rose to meet my face as I patted and sucked on her Nub, to which she responded with throaty gargling noises, punctuated with sharp silent shrieks, comforted, yet full of screaming delight. Finally she begged me to stop. I did not stop immediately but ran my caressing tongue and sucking lips lighter and softer, softer and lighter along and across over her labia and clitoris which caused her to weep loudly in pleasure and finally she stammered “stop, please, I can’t take it no more”, as her fingers clenched into my hair to hold my head still until I stopped. Finally I grabbed her hands and pushed them away from my head because I could hardly breathe. Now free from her grip, I lay down beside her and began stroking her gently with my fingertips. In soothing shivers, she rolled away from me and onto her stomach. I took advantage of this opportunity to sit on her well rounded bud and gave her a good massage which she obviously enjoyed. Eventually I slid down on her thighs and calves while my hands massaged her thighs, and right back up to her gorgeous ass, where I – oops; slipped and penetrated with my fingers into her sopping wet Pussy.

Relishing in the feeling, she raised her pelvis up, higher and higher, so I could massage her little Nub too, until she was on her knees. Her cute little ass was sticking in the air as she moaned softly and contentedly under my ever increasing pussy massage. Eventually, the sight was too much for me, as it would have been for any other man. My Lust-bolt was more than ready. When I knelt down behind her and my Lance touched her outer lips, I got to meet Mary’s ass as soon as she felt the tip of my Penis against her entrance. It was as though her wet tunnel wanted to suck me in, as Mary began to ram herself onto my Boner, hot and demanding. Finally we found our rhythm and began a dance of the senses. In Variation of the depth, speed and the angle of my intrusion, just as I felt that it was necessary, I reinforced Mary’s feelings of pleasure. Finally she began to whimper and again, emitting these throaty, gargling noises that told me that she was about to climax. Suddenly her Pussy walls began to clench my Rod very hard; not that it hurt, it just felt so much tighter then before. I increased my speed which made it tougher to penetrate her and little sharp cries of pleasure filled the room, which excited me all the more so that I could scarcely control myself any longer. Finally I exploded deep inside her hole which my seed filled in several powerful thrusts while I pressed myself deep inside her. She was crying of pleasure and howling with lust before she fainted and collapsed. It even happened to me and finally I passed out too. I just so managed to slump to one side, so I would not fall on top of her. Due to negative circumstances, we had only this one weekend together, the best and most constructive weekend of my life, and I’m now almost 50 years old. Maria was my teacher and I owe her forever gratitude for what she has taught me. She has taught me, that to receive joy, it is absolutely important to give pleasure too, not only in sexual terms but also the rest of life’s conditions, that every relationship with a sexual partner must not only exist intellectually but also bodily, in harmony, in order to prevail. I have known some women in my life, including some from Africa. Three Circumcised and others were up to 12 years older than myself, even if you could see it only on their birth certificate, and some say THANK’S to me today, only because I have given them their first or best orgasm of her life, because I taught them how beautiful bodily love and unison can be. At least those with whom I am still in contact. Then I just tell them about a small but real and very important event of my life’s past. Myself, I just say; Thank you Mary

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