denny-1's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My life as a Geisha I want to be a Geisha. Geisha means artist. I want to be skilled in the arts of song and dance and I want to entertain men in a way that is both honorable and dishonerable.I don't' want to have sex with Asian men, I imagine they have small ding-a-lings. Plus, they gross me out...as I imagine I would them, I have big feet. Any man that is smaller than me...forget it, as I'm a big girl. Not a big girthed girl, but a Amazon big kind of girl. I would crush an Asian, unless of course it was a sumo...then, I'd get crushed. Either way it would be disasterous. Anyway, back to being a Geisha. I want to paint my face white and my lips the color of blood. I want to wear exotic silks and march around in wooden thongs. I want my hair to shine as black as a stallion and ornamented with diamonds. There is a mysteriousness that surround geisha that I have always been attracted to. It's like hiding behind curtains. Where you are seen but not really seen. Geisha where a mask of mystery...I can't think of anything more erotic than that. I imagine that if I were a Geisha I would be quite popular. I'm really tall so I think that I would be the tallest Geisha of all-time. My skin is so fair that it may match my face painted white. I would have a big quaff on my head decorated in mother of pearl and diamonds. I would wear red silk with gold brocade designs. The designs would be of bonsai trees and rock gardens. I would have birds on my kimono too. And I would have a deep blue kimono for special ocasions. One that showed the ocean. Depending upon which mood I was in, this would dictate which one I would wear. As the most popular Geisha, I would have lot's of maids to attend to my needs. I would never have to do laundry again nor would I have to vacuume. My danna (the man who supports the Geisha) would be Ben Afflict. Yes, he's my danna. He would be married to J-NO but, he would be in love with ME. HA. Yes, this is what I imagine. As my danna, Ben would visit me once every couple of weeks. I would entertain him in my beautiful NYC apartment that he has bought for me. He would come over for Tea and a happy ending, which he would also have to pay for...usually much more than the going rate for serving tea, out of respect...of course. On his visits I would make sure the apartment was clean and bright. I would have a special seat for him and all of the artwork that he admires. In my imagination Ben likes Vettriano, specifically the painting "Dancer for Money", which happens to be one of my favorites too! He would have bought this for me as a gift. I would hang it just above the fire place on the stark white wall...the painting is of a women in thigh highs, she stands before and open door with one leg propped up. She smokes a cigarette in a way as to say something has just happened or she is waiting for something to happen. The picture is in rich blues with one single hanging light bulb casting brilliant shadows on the scene. Ben would enter as he always does with flowers in hand. Usually aromatic flowers, lilacs or lily's. He would complement my appearance and say that he has been away far to long. I would bow in the appropriate way and untie his shoes. Once this was finished, I would return to my statuesque height and he would stare into my eyes. Not the kind of stare as to try and figure me out, but the longing stare that says, I've missed your soul. I would then lead him into the room with his favorite picture. He would make himself comfortable and I would ask him if he would like some tea. He would tell me about his thoughts as if I were his therapist. I would listen intently and comment in the appropriate points of his vulnerability. After sufficient conversation, tea and some strong sake, Ben would lead me into the boudoir, as the French would say. I'm an eclectic Geisha, taking in all kinds of western and eastern traditions...once in the room Ben would sit himself on the edge of my futon. I would bow to him on my Parisian rug, and say, "In what way can I please the master Ben."...notice how this is not a question...I know what it is that he wants...as all men desire...but I do try and play with him a bit...Ben looks into my eyes and says nothing. He just stairs, as if he were in a dream. I kneel to a position were I am just about eye level to him. I say nothing...silence is a wonderful thing... Our minds race, I touch his leg with my hand and slowly move my way up his thigh. Never taking my eyes away from his. I watch as his face trembles just enough to show how vulnerable a man can be in such a situation. He knows what I am going to do, yet, he still imagines that I may not do it. I make my way to the center of his being and then I release my stare. He positions his body backwards and bends his elbows to lay on the futon. His eyes still on the girl with the white face. I never say another word. I undue his pants and release the hardened object of desire. I take this into my hands as I would a precious jewel. As I bow again, this time much closer to his body, I listen for the words that I so often hear, "My Geisha, oh it has been to long." That's what I imagine my life as a Geisha to be. 10:56 a.m. - 2003-10-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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