just minishorts.

Always, now, when I remember my very first, I would be tickled to spasms of laughter. That bunch of hair (which is now cut off, no less), and the wonders of its usefulness in the midst of Mark's trying to make me bare all.

My hair was tied up in a single, perfect braid, the day Mark devirginized me.

He had been kissing me for what seemed like forever, and finally, when the waiting became unbearable, I let out a frustrated gasp. 'Get down…' I demanded. 'Down. Down.'

Mark obeyed. Delightedly. His response was to move down, his teeth rapidly lifting the shift off my skin, and in a bit, I was there, lying bared, in the flesh, well, except for the laces that covered the remainder of me.

At the tossing off of my satin nightie, my braid stumbled lazily across my breasts and the rest of it, refused to move and instead, remained snaked up in a coil by the corner of my bed.

'Playing peek-a-boo, are you?' Mark whispered as he nibbled on my lobes. He propped his head up on his elbow and ravished me with his eyes, fingers stroking the stray blonde strands that refused to stay within the braid.

I smiled meekly, and shifted a little.

'What am to do with this?' Mark whispered again, lifting the single perfect braid off my chest. Hands still holding my tied up hair in a perfect arch, Mark bent over to trace his tongue all around the areola of my bead-hard nipples, and then…

'Ooof.'

Look, it was heavy, my braid. Longer than a coconut tree's entire length, tied up into a single, perfect braid, the entire bunch of hair weighed at least 3 kgs, and Mark scowled annoyingly when he realized a single hand's strength was not sufficient to keep the hair bunch in its perfect arch.

The braid had fallen over his neck and he plodded onto my tits. I yowled-lah, of course, you would too, if a grown man's head had fallen unto your tits, MOUTH STILL OPEN, TEETH STILL BARING.

Tip #3: Be in control. Don't lose yourself. No matter how bad the temptation, keep your strength in check. And don't, don't, let the matters of her hair length (and weight) weigh you down into worshipping her breasts.

Lucky for me, Mark was is a man who knows his methods. Saving the day, he shoved the braid out of its imprisoning position, and proceeded to caress the woundsmarks left behind by his teeth.

'Urhhh…' I moaned. Now, I'm not entirely sure whether it was out of pain or pleasure, but anyway, it was good. Even if it was painful (later, the pain would be excrutiating).

'I'm so sorry…' said Mark, and then suddenly, I was overwhelmed. Like a baby, he had crawled onto the tips of my mountains, and like a screaming volcano, I was erupting into …

Sheesh… too graphic again. OK CONTROL CONTROL.

Tip #4: Suckle. Bite. Lick. Squeeze. Whatever. Just make her scream like an erupting volcano. A woman's breasts are after all the pinnacles to her sexual convulsions, your own key to manhood discovery. And also, those things you call nipples? Liken them to buttons on your nintendo joypad to control the rest of the entire session.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1 RS 2 RS 3 RS 4 RS 5 RS 6 RS 7 RS 8

Rapunzel shares her lovemaking tips:
RS 9: How to do it right #1

I found a cool story, and like your daily storyteller, oft do I recommend links that are very worth a visit.

Excerpts from Barnett's atheist site:

The line seemed to stretch back forever. Hundreds of millions of souls, waiting patiently for their turn before the throne. The date… Well, the day is Judgment Day, so you won't find it on any calendar. The queue of people winds its way down the mountain, through the valley and off into the far distance. Everybody in the queue can see the final destination at the mountain peak. A hundred miles away, they can see it perfectly clearly. And they wait, moving forward a couple of steps at a time. Towards God, and the Decision.

At the head of the we find a young Christian, wearing an expression of awe and joy. Behind him, an atheist, looking slightly astonished, examining a leaf she has picked from a nearby bush, trying to decide if it is real or not. Heaven, she thinks, should be whiter, with more dry ice swirling about; not look like a Welsh hillside on a hot day.

So, be thou a believer, or a non-believer, I thought knowledge is Truth and best we decide for ourselves.

Now judge me to Hell.

I'm sharing this with you unassuming men as a means of educating young men who are unaware of what princesses desire. Apparently many men don't know the right methods, and they usually, instead of making the female gasp in pleasure, end up slobbering all over her fragile body, and ruin the entire experience that could have been the best numero uno she would ever remember.

I remember lying on my back, Mark hovering over me, as he ravished my lips in the best way ever.

This is the way to kiss, guys, if you didn't know already.

His lips first brushed over mine in a single sweep. At this point, I closed my eyes and savoured the experience of our deep kiss. The folds drifted over my lips for a bit, and then I felt his tongue, swiftly flicking over my lips. I opened my mouth, I let my tongue drift outwards, but he ignored it.

It's always annoying when this happens, so my eyelids fluttered open. Mark had lifted his head. He smiled at me, eyes slanted to a slit.

'You don't like this?' he asked mischievously, lips still lingering against my lips. I pouted and he swept down again. This time, it was tongue. All tongue.

How to put it? I felt like my heart had dipped to the edges of the earth everytime his tongue pludged into my mouth. And when he sucked my tongue with his lips, it was as if my entire heart was being sucked out of its place.

THAT GOOD.

A bit later, he was nibbling on my lower lip and I was already burning flames of urgent desire.

This guy just wouldn't touch me!

Tip #1: Keep your hands to yourself. It's more fun when the girl cries out for you. Her hands will move up to guide you when the ecstasy of a very, very good kiss makes her ask for more.

Which was precisely what Mark did. His hands were resting on my back ALL THE TIME. The frustration of feeling his touch ONLY on my lips and my back was quite agonizing. I hate to admit this now, but his holding back just made the kiss ever more so intoxifying.

So it was a good thing.

And my hands moved up, of their own accord, to bring his head down to my chest.

Tip #2: Resist your urges. Make her crave for you.

He refused to budge. Instead of obeying my hands, he chose to linger his lips against my chin, and my neck. His tongue flicked in a left right, up down sequence down my throat, and it made things even worse. I mean, even better.

I moaned. I twisted. I moaned. I twisted. I moaned. I twisted.

Urgggghh…. Damnit. The guy's an adonis-lah. He's just amazing in bed. But he didn't want to touch me… how could he just be… satisfied with kissing.

'Get down…' I gasped, pushing his head down. 'Down. Down.'

It was only then, that his hands finally obeyed my command.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1 RS 2 RS 3 RS 4 RS 5 RS 6 RS 7 RS 8

I was going to write about it anyway, but I got held back for a bit.

So now, where was I?

Ah yes. I was talking about me rasping in stupor over the suddenly wonder that Mark was not only after my body. Although, of course, later, he did admit that lust rated 55% in his reasons of attraction list.

But the first time…

Look. I've never, ever, ever, been with a guy before. I've been kissed of course, but not when I'm completely naked with a guy. Yes, yes, the day before, Mark had come in and given me a very good prelude of things to come. But, if you remember well, I was in a very tight corset, and there wasn't much he could do. He just flicked his tongue over my lips a little (my lips, on both ends of me), and toyed with me a little, but it wasn't nearly satisfying.

So I was actually looking forward to the first time. Which was why on the third time he came, I was prepared, in my sexiest best, you know, do what a girl can do best to keep her man happy.

That was my only intention really. To make my man happy.

So, when Mark said, 'Rappy, dear. We have all day. Till 4.30 p.m. I want to talk to you first. I want to see you first. We must talk of more important things. I want to talk about our life together, when you get out of here, when I can finally make you my queen,'

… there really was nothing more I could do but sit there with my mouth gaping like a goldfish in dangling suspension. I think the movements of my mouth, opening and closing like that, was too much for Mark to bear, and swearing coarsely, he swooped upon me like an eagle pouncing on its prey.

Sweet.

Do you want the graphic details?

Whatever I'll write next depends completely on customer feedback.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1: My name and how I came to be
RS 2: That famous long hair of mine
RS 3: About the silk rope
RS 4: Why Mark
RS 5: Mark and what happened on Day Two
RS 6: At first sight
RS 7: My Mark. My Mark. My darling Mark.

Some people don't get Taoism. I can accept that. I don't mind talking to friends about it, because I think it is a belief and knowledge that is worth sharing with friends. But what I can't take, are how some True Christians turn the whole conversation into an exercise in evangelizing this lost cause.

A very dear Christian friend asked, 'You mean you worship your ancestors?'

If I were to rebuke, 'And you mean you worship a God that you don't even know exists,' a True Christian will try to make me 'feel better' by saying that the devil has blinded my senses, and has made me said blasphemous things against God. That God is all forgiving, and because Jesus Christ has paid for my sins by dying on the cross, he will love me still, and pray for me to understand the Truth one day.

You tell me, what is wrong with being Taoist and praying to your ancestors?

'It is not necessary to go and do the Cheng Beng rituals, because God provides,' my Christian friend says. ‘And these people are dead, you don’t worship them.’

But what if I WANTED to do the rituals, because I choose to. Because I love the people who cared for me, who came before me, and they were Taoists… and even if I choose to believe that God provides, these people don't, they didn’t because they didn’t have my fortunes to have you care for my unsaved soul and they hoped that their children, including me, and my children after me, would do this for them after they've left me. And because of this very simplistic reason, I perform the rituals, without questioning.

What if I'm doing this simply because I love the past of who I was, and therefore I choose to pay them my respects in this manner? Is there anything wrong with it?

The True Christian who loves to bear fruit for God, will tell me that he will pray for me, for my understanding, and for me to accept Christ. That such thinking of mine is not because of my insane fanaticity, but really because Satan is speaking into my ears and telling me to forsake my One and True Saviour.

My questions:

Have I sinned for not believing that Jesus died on the cross?

Yes. But the True Christian says it is not my fault because Satan is working his ways on me. But if I choose to believe and listen to the Word of God, I will understand things slowly, and later, I will be forgiven when I confess my sins.

Fine. I can accept that I want to hear the Word of God. I choose to honour the Sabbath. Will I go to heaven?

No, not until you accept God. Or so says the True Christian.

And what is that?

You have to confess your sins to God and accept Him as your personal saviour. That all Gods are false except him. And that He is the One True God. Says the True Christian.

OK. I believe that there is a God. Maybe there is One True God. I want to live the Christian way. So, how do I do that?

Being baptized. By Submersion. Or Sprinkling. The True Christian tells me.

Oh, so if I soak myself in the water, I will become a True Christian, like you. Otherwise I won't a True Christian. Because I was not soaked into a pool of water, I am not Christian.

And then after I become a True Christian, I am expected to do this thing that the bible calls 'bear fruits' and 'spread His Word'. For I am a new hope, living proof that even hopeless cases are not forsaken by God, because all it took was a little more time to 'bear fruit' like me.

GAaahhhhhhhYou tell me which part of this kind of evangelism makes sense?

I tell you what makes sense to me, as a person who works with words and plays with words. The Holy Bible is the oldest and longest running publication in the whole world. It has been edited over many, many, many times, over many many years and it is therefore a very thoroughly edited book. It is the one international bestseller that will continue to be an international bestseller for a very very long time to come. It is also the most translated book in the world, its outreach is THAT great.

The Holy Bible is also a BOOK. And a book that sells that well has to have had very very good writers who are very very very very good at persuading you into believing that everything in it is Truth.

And evangelists lap up the words of these people (humans, mind you), like they're the most precious diamonds in the world. They don't question, because to question is to be un-Christian, to be unworthy of God's love. They just accept.

The way I see it, evangelists, calling themselves True Christians have reduced the Almighty God into a cruel entity that jealously tortures and destroys everyone who does not love, worship and glorify Him above everyone and everything else forever.

By the way, coincidentally, 'evangelist' is also the anagram for 'evil agents'.

How apt.

So God will strike me dead and send me to hell for calling The Holy Bible'a book'. And I suppose at the end of this, you evangelists who love God so much will say you'll still pray for my sinful soul and for Satan to be thrown off my back so that I can receive the Word of God ASAP. After all, what am I, but a hopeless case, and even though I deserve to go to hell for denying God, God is patient and merciful, and that He offers His mercy even to the very end. The antidote to my spiritual death is Jesus, and this antidote is available at all times. What I am, but a lost cause, and yet, I should fear nothing because, God shows mercy to all the lost causes, even me.

I don't get these people. I really don't.