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Freud.ianslip.com - INSIDE The Feminine Subconscious

 
The DAILY DRAMA and UNVEILINGS of the female subsconscious.

Freud.ianslip.com - April 2006

The Plural of Double Entendre

April 28th 2006 09:50
The minute we walked into Mr. X’s apartment Taffy had an architectural orgasm.

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Dark Night
It was a dark and gusty night. We’d scurried up Oxford Mall, arms linked, defying the sultry night wind tossing leaves through our hair, skipping nimbly over drunken men and tree roots.


And suddenly there we were, inside, alone. Well nearly alone, there was the little matter of negotiating Mr. X’s younger brother and his giant inflatable penguin.

“I call him Penguinzoar. None on earth may defeat him!”

Anyway, we were eventually alone, in Mr. X’s room, nervously eying each other and the bed. I was a coward, announced I was taking a shower, and disappeared. And when I returned they were in bed and kissing passionately so the ice must have been broken somehow. Possibly when Mr. X started stripping.

But I didn’t run away out of fear. I had indeed dark Machiavellian purposes, and a hidden agenda that had dominated my thoughts ever since Mr. X slid his hand between Taffy’s thighs.. and she didn’t object. Yes, I wasn’t as innocent as I’d like to seem. In fact, this wasn’t the first time Mr. X and I had lured another girl into an erotic encounter.


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Lia is so innocent...
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(extracts from her personal diary)

So we went back to Lia's and snuggled up on her couch, which is about the time I had a sudden inkling that perhaps Mr. X was a closet foot fetishist, what with delicately removing my shoes and all. He handles strappy stilettos with great skill. Perhaps he wears them in his spare time. He drinks jasmine tea: anything is possible.

[Mr. X resents this suggestion. He is simply a very skillful and experienced lover.]

Well it seemed innocent enough. I was otherwise occupied by Lia's ample chest in that lovely low-cut top so to be honest I really didn't pay much attention to his fingers creeping higher and over my thighs...


… I think this was the point where her koran-toting middle eastern aeronautical engineer-student flatmate walked in..

{Lia: No slurs are intended! He is a lovely person, really.}

.. which was awkward, and I had to pull my skirt down from its resting place somewhere around my chest.

He didn't want to join our prayer group. A shame, because Mr. X was giving SUCH a good lesson on sin.

But he looked scared and backed slowly out of the room, and Lia went to find her trusty camera. Which, again, seemed like a totally normal idea. Yes, I was sitting in Mr. X's lap and we were touching. He went to kiss me and I turned my face away slightly, and that IS what happened. Not that it wasn't all fiery and passionate, but no. No kissing. Not yet, anyhow.

We didn't kiss until I’d asked Lia, actually. Which sounds odd. Much of this night was odd, including the fact that we wound up back at his apartment becoming better acquainted with some nice black satin sheets…
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Probing Mr. X

April 26th 2006 06:30
Lia: So here I am, recollecting events with Mr. X. Thanks so much for giving us your time tonight.
Mr. X: Um, ok… Sure. Prompt me.
Lia: ‘And somewhere between her kissing me and him stroking her, my very conservative housemates decided to walk in..’ So from your perspective, what happened next? Where were you stroking her? What were you thinking?

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Perspective is Everything

April 24th 2006 11:51
… So we flushed with absolute guilt, snatched up the Koran that handily happened to be lying on the coffee table, and pretended to be holding a prayer group. Seriously. And no, we didn’t pull it off, we just looked really really suspicious…


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Snuggle up with Pride

April 20th 2006 23:30
We strolled down to my place from South like a walking polyamory pride flag- at least, that’s what someone commented. You may remember the term from Lacking Love? I prefer vocabularian Amy's new word polyamorousauruses!

I do plan to discuss this lifestyle in greater depth, but in the meantime to check out the flag click here. It’s quite an ugly flag, I know, so rest assured that we looked much prettier. I personally prefer the bisexual pride flag and biangles. If I have to identify as something, it might as well be a little purple triangle.

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The Stars Align at South

April 19th 2006 10:26
Indeed I’m no stranger to sexual innuendo, and had no objection to the various metaphorical nipples and penises that seemed to be floating around the table and dropping into our conversation. But when they started comparing literal notes I actually blushed furiously and was forced to leave the room. Yes, that thing I do with my tongue. Really, should sexual skills be brought up over dinner?
Actually, I harboured a secret fear that they might find each other more attractive than they did me, and run off together, and leave me all alone… but no, they kept me stuck firmly in the middle.

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Excitement at the Green Gourmet

April 18th 2006 01:54
The day after we’d tried crossing over to the dark-side, I spent the day being totally sick. Taffy was a darling bringing me lemongrass-and-ginger tea. It was possibly referred guilt- we blamed the nausea on her mum’s homemade Baileys. Delicious yet deadly.

I’m telling you this so that the world is very aware that I was possibly not in my right mind, and thus should not be held accountable for the events that followed.

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The Dark Side of Oxford St.

April 12th 2006 03:53
We had high hopes for our second night clubbing on Oxford St. In order to stave off the inevitable exhaustion that comes with much walking and dancing in high-heeled shoes, we had as you know spent the afternoon in bed. It was our ambitious plan to arrive around midnight and party hard until at least 6 am- also neatly avoiding the issue of ‘how the hell do we get home?’.

Ah.. the best laid plans of mice and men..

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Love with Aromatherapy

April 7th 2006 04:56
Since we had a big night of clubbing planned, Taffy and I decided to spend the afternoon in bed.

(Oh, I’m calling her Taffy now.. she's sweet, has a strange thing for taffeta, and ‘my girlfriend’ would get creepy and possessive after a while, trust me.)

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The Lesbian Look

April 5th 2006 03:18
The second weekend my girlfriend came down from Newcastle being a momentous occasion, I wore a miniskirt. And high heels- some of you may know the kind, so uncomfortable you never wear them anywhere, but you can never pack them away because they make you look so good.

Thanks to trackwork delay I spent a pleasant hour at Central Station people-watching, and was forced to realise that I’m getting this whole lesbian-chic thing all wrong. First the guys were checking out my legs and girls were checking out my shoes. Then I saw a –real- lesbian couple and understood the problem. Permitting quantities of hair to grow on my legs would be a good way to discourage second glances. And I should put on much more weight, wear tight-fitting black and/or khaki, smear eyeliner around my eyes and chop off the hair (on my head).

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Lacking Love?

April 3rd 2006 01:14
My friends today were complaining about lack of love. I do feel lots of sympathy for them, but I find it a little hard to relate. I don't often suffer from a lack of love, in fact I'm struggling with a surplus.

The new term for this sort of thing seems to be 'polyamorous'. Not that it's a brilliant descriptor. But it's what I see slowly forming on people's lips (paranoid) when I stroll down the street arm in arm with my ex-(but still around)boyfriend and my very pretty but semi-long-distance semi-closeted girlfriend.

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Oxford Nights 101

April 3rd 2006 00:50
.. Or, The Pros and Cons of Lipstick Bisexualism.

Potentially first serious girlfriend arrives from Newcastle on train. She’s wearing pink mini skirt and silky top, impractical high heels. Very cute, very feminine, very actually quite gorgeous. So far it’s all good. After obligatory deep and meaningful discussion (afternoon caffeine/sugar fix stretches on until Gloria Jeans staff threaten to start charging us rent) we browse through King St shops looking for sparkly things to wear out. Pro: Girlfriend can offer good advice on the best low-cut tops. Con: Over-excited salesgirls gush over her outfit and blatantly flirt.
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72 Posts dating from March 2006
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