Fétiche de pied

Nicolas Retif was a Frenchman.

What do you mean you don't care? Hey, the French are people to, you know. Hold on, hold on, wait just a minute. Calm down. Deep breath. Okay, good.

After researching information for a story I just completed (Yah!) about a man with a fetiche de pied or foot fetish (take it easy), I thought it was only fair to give native tongue credit to one of the first known men to have had a shoe fetish, aka: fétiche de chaussure.

Here's a little blurb to my fetiche de pied story:

"...Dr. Cobbler was wearing a black pencil skirt. Black seems ran down the back of her sheer black pantyhose. She wore pointed closed-toe; 4 inch, black Italian leather pumps. I think she was wearing a high collard; crème colored silky type shirt that she tucked into her tiny waist, but I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t paying much attention to what she was wearing from the waist up.

Dr. Cobbler had long, sensuous legs. I could see her well developed calves and the delicate bones of her ankles as she sat crossed legged in a chair close by me. I envisioned she had 10 perfect toes neatly tucked into those fine leather pumps.

My dick was tremmering at the thought of kneeling down in front of her; slowly slipping off her shoes and delivering her wet, meaningful kisses across the tops of her sheer, nylon covered toes and feet..."

Yes. I know this is the second posting thus far THIS week about shoes. It's research, I swear. Or, maybe I happen to have a shoe fetish of my own. Hmm...does owning every color of 99 cent flip-flops count as a shoe fetish? The red stiletto's above look nothing like the shoes I've described in this story, but...as far as shoes and shoe fetishes goes, damn...those would sure be fun for one night, don't cha' think?

Ciao
Neve

Lime in the Coconut

I met some friends for drinks last night. We all used to work together, but a lot of us have since moved on to other prosperous opportunities. Jobs change, but the friendships still remain.

Depending on what set of friends I'm meeting depends upon the type of cocktail I order. The time of day; day of the week; the place we're meeting; if I had been out drinking the night before, and most importantly: The conversation that will be taking place has a lot to with my beverage choice.

Sometimes ordering a cool and refreshing glass of Sauvignon Blanc is perfect for those whimsical, Happy Hour; let's grab a drink, a small bite and sit outside somewhere and just catch up on shit. If the conversation is going to be more complex, then my finger moves over to the bolder reds listed on the menu; offering somthing more substantial to go with the depth of the conversation. I certainly don't want to leave out one of my all time favorites, and is welcome at any social event: Beer. I do enjoy a good Mexican beer. Thank you very much.

If it's well pass Happy Hour and there's classic Jazz music involved then I'm going for a dirty, vodka martini with extra olives.

Last night was a Lime in the Coconut kind of evening. A tequila kind of night. I like em' over ice; salty round' the rim. Yum, yum, yum....

Ciao
Neve

Beach Blanket Bingo

was the name of the summer beach parties that our old friends Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon, aka: Moondoggie would attend, circa 1960's. I love this movie sequence where everyone was so young, innocent and idealistic about dating. I think there may have been some hanky panky going on between the surfing and the volleyball, but if my memory serves me correctly, Annette and Moondoggie may have sipped on some punch, but it surely wasn't sex on the beach.

As we move into the month of August (No. I. Can't. Believe. It) knowing that September is just on the horizon; signaling a traditional goodbye to summer, I want to know if you've been experiencing a summer fling with someone over these last hot summer months, or is your union becoming more serious? Not sure?

I found an article titled: Three Signs It's a Summer Fling. I thought I'd share this author's tell-tale signs of flingdom with you. Yes, of course I added a few extra Neve Black tid-bits into his theory. You know I can't help it.

Note: The author is a male and you'll notice his words are geared toward a female heterosexual audience, but I think his philosophy could apply to everyone:

Sign #1: There's no September. If your new guy is tentative about discussing the future (as in, autumn), he may consider your situation to be strictly casual. That said, most budding relationships focus on the present rather than the future, because you're both figuring out if it's worth pursuing. So don't read too much into this one sign.

Neve's comments: Your hot, hot, hot summer romance could suddenly turn a bit chilly if you learn that this person has a spouse at home, hence the no future with this person in your future. "Don't ask, don't tell." Better just ask and make sure.

Sign #2: What friends? You and your new love are an island. You haven't met each other's social circle, and for now, you're cool with that. Yes, you have him all to yourself - great! But from a man's standpoint, sequestering you makes it very convenient for him to terminate your affair when it reaches its use-by date, which he may have predetermined.

Neve's comments: Hmmm.... I think it's important to make sure your current lover isn't playing on both teams. Sequestering you away from his or her second life and a second set of friends that play real dress up games. Don't fall victim to FSOI, aka: False Sexual Orientation Information.

This can sometimes happen at the beginning stages of a relationship, and later you find yourself wondering why something just isn't adding up. I'm sure you would concur that this could be problematic. But then again, B-69. I-69. N-69. O-69. + 1 or 2, a whip, paddle and blindfold spells a winning beach blanket bingo winner to me, and a fun summer menage-a-many.

Sign #3: It's a one-track bond. Let's just say you wouldn't classify your current union as a meeting of the minds. In fact, while you totally dig each other's action between the sheets, you rarely connect when your clothes are on. This affair will burn fast and bright, so enjoy your lusty tryst. Just don't mistake hot sex for a growing romance if it's clear your chemistry is all about the booty.

Neve's comments: The author is probably right about this one. I've know too many people that have spent their entire summers in bed. Well, okay most of their time in the bed. I'm sure they had shower sex, sex in between meals and fucked while brushing their teeth. Hell, life has to continue, right?

Huh? Sex in the shower, on the dining room table, on top of washing machine? Wow. That sounds great doesn't it? Oh, wait. I was projecting there for a minute. Sorry. Having nothing but 24/7 sex can be fantastic I suppose, but you might be asking yourself at some point why Moondoggie hasn't invited you out to dinner as you finally come up for air after three blissfull summer months'.

I hope this article provides you with some added insight into your current summer romance; giving you better understanding and insight. So, do you anticipate more beach, blanket bingo summers with your summer lover next year, like Annette and Moondoggie, or are you in the midst of summer fling-zing that's getting ready to set sail after the last summer sunset?

Ciao

Neve

Om. Om. Om....

I felt I needed to thoroughly eradicate my mind, body and soul after watching the Hollywood blockbuster Dark Knight (harsh, I know.) this week, so I headed over to the film house in my city that rarely ever disappoints me in both visual and intellectual film stimulation.

I was intrigued to see a film called The Dhamma Brothers . The film is set in place that time forgot: The Donaldson Correctional Facility, located just southwest of Birmingham, Alabama. I've never been to the the correctional facility, or even passed through the state of Alabama, but the documentary stated Donaldson detains 1500 of the most dangerous criminals.

On a cold day in January, 2002, 36 of the prison's inmates went through 10 days of a silent meditation process called Vipassana'. To quickly summarize: Vipassana' means to see things as they really are, and is one of India's most ancient techniques of meditation. The eastern based practice is both physically and emotionally demanding. Its most basic concept is to cleanse one's mind of mental impurities; resulting in highest happiness of full liberation. The practice is a way of self-tranformation through self-observation, by focusing on the deep interconnection between mind and body.

So, you're probably wondering, "Did the practice work? Were these men changed?"

My answer, "Yes."


Namaste'
Neve Black

Stiletto heals and Fuck Me Pumps...

Aren't these gorgeous? They cost nearly 1/3 of my trip to Italy for two weeks', but damn, aren't they gorgeous? I think they're sexy and fun; flirting at being over the top, without looking like streetwalker shoes. I love them.

I was rounding the corner; nearly finished completing a story. After re-reading it for the 625th time, I realized it needed something. Just a touch of something to kick up the flavor another notch.

For me, writing is a lot like cooking. You start with an empty pot; adding ingredient after ingredient; letting them all boil, and then simmer, until all the flavors come out and dance together in the pot: A little tango over there. Some cha-cha over here. Oh, hey, there goes the waltz.

Then you take a sip of what you think is your Julia Child (I'm so dating myself here) masterpiece; making sure your creation tastes just so....Careful, don't burn your tongue....

Damn. It's missing something. Hmm. What does it need? A rat's ear, a toad's eye, perhaps? You know what it needs as you savor the taste on your tongue, and you quickly add that pinch, slice or heaping teaspoon into the pot; knowing that you got it right this time.

So after re-reading my story, I decided it was in dire need of oslet pumps, with red patent leather 4.5" spiky heals. Why not the stilleto heals you ask? That would be like adding another jalepeno pepper into an already hot and spicy dish. Too much is too much.

Yeah, my story is getting those gorgeous shoes pictured above. And you know what? It tastes perfect now.


Bon Appetite
Neve Black

Dark Knight, Sweet Prince

I've been writing a lot. I've been very focused and my brain hurts. Blogging is my take a break from over analyzing, and re-reading 600+ times to quadruply be sure Neve's voice flows well in and out of each sentence of the story I'm working on right now. It's that way with every story.

I thought I'd blog a little about the new Batman movie that's out; thus today's blog title above. Like my ode to Hamlet? No? Okay. I know. I'm a dork. I told you my brain hurts.

Why did I go and see the movie, that I so solemny swore I wouldn't pay to see? Well, first of all, out of all the Dectective Comics, Batman is the only one I like, probably because he's so dark. DC also totes, Wonderwoman and Superman.

Secondly, my dear friend, SB really wanted to go. He said he'd treat me to the movie; buy the popcorn, and the ice cold beverage that fits into the arm rest cup holder.

"Arm rest cup holders? Huh?"

How could I refuse? I love Batman, and it's kinda nice to sit in those plushy barcaloungers at the cineplex compound. My butt is used to feeling numb after sitting on the old, hard and wooden, school desk seats at the art house movie theater.

There's another reason too: You see, I think I'm finally over George Clooney. I've moved onto Christian Bale. Truth be told, I've been torn between these two lovers for awhile now, but George just won't commit, so it's Christian for me, baby. I'm kidding. Sort of.

What's not too like about Batman? He's very erotic: Sensuous; sexy, deep, dark, filthy rich and mysterious. He's the ultimate in alter-egos too, which is also erotic: Bruce Wayne, the multi-millionare, philanthropist and of course, playboy by day, but by night... he's none other than a man that uses nothing more than his bank roll, rubber, latex batsuit (S&M) and intellect; pledging his nocturnal life to fight crime.... Plus I love the name of his butler; Alfred Pennywise. That's just terrific.

Did I like the movie?

Hmm...where do I begin? Do I really want to sound like a Nancy-know-it-all, wanna-be-director, film critic and diss on the film? Well, yes and no. I was amazed at the shoot-em-up, blow up theatrics of the film. I was equally disappointed in the the two main ingredients that make a film work: A fabulous plot and great acting.

My heart broke all over again after watching Heath Ledger's performance. He's one of the great one's folks, and he's gone. What did I really like about his performance? I loved the way the Joker constantly licked his lips, and ran his hands through his tinged green and greesy hair; driven by the socio-path and maniacal force within; bubbling to the surface as nervous habits. He was a monster; he was superb.

Even though my heart has been stolen away by Christian Bale, this was not his best role, and he's a supreme actor. Maggie Gyllenhaal...I love her. She's an excptional actress, and God didn't we all love her in The Secretary? She was too underdimensional (I just made that word up) in this role; I attribute it once again to bad direction.

One final note and then I'll shut up: The movie was too long. As an example: While trying to define the movie's ending, it went into too much detail explaining the role of the villain, Two-Faced. I simply got lost in the plot sauce (More Neve made up words).

What puts the pulp in Pulp Fiction? Certainly not adding unecessary explanation and length to what should be tacitly implied. I wanted to stand up and say, "For the love of God, didn't you read the comic books? Batman always takes the fall; he's the good, dark knight. Everybody knows that."

Yes, I would have done it differently. I'm funny that way, I would have used the script. I would have followed the comic books that were already written; not divesting to much from the original copy and then given the credit to the author.

I can't say I'd recommend it, and I'm glad I wasn't buying. :-)

Comments?


Ciao
Film Critic
Neve Black

The Big...

O.... I'm rather exhausted after celebrating National Orgasm Day yesterday....

Whew.

I'm working on stories today, and taking pussy naps in between.

Of course, I'm still here to read your comments though.

Picture above can be purchased here via Etsy.

Ciao
NB