Friday, 19 October 2012

Black Widow

   I just watched the Avengers again this week and can't get Scarlett Johansson out of my head. She was my favourite part of the movie and was also the highlight of Iron Man 2 for me.

 I had an old copy of Daredevil in the achieves that featured Black Widow and dug it up. I can remember tripping on her back then too.

  I did some research on her character's history and came across Marvel's Tales of Suspense #52, published back in 1964 where the Black Widow was first introduced. She would then appear in Iron Man in 1966 and then became an Avenger in 1967 as their 16th member.

One of the obvious differences of the original Black Widow was her attire. The original Black Widow wore a tight satin wiggle dress or pencil skirt, high heels, and a pill box hat with a black widows veil. She was a true femme fatale of the time. Her original name was Natalia Romonova and was a soviet spy. Marvel later had her change sides when she joined the Avengers. Her name then became Natasha Romonoff. She didn't get her trademark jumpsuit until 1970 in an appearance in Spiderman. I couldn't help but loving the old outfit. It was nostalgic and sexy. It is the image of the female assassin that I could truly envision.

Mind you. I still prefer her as a redhead. That much is undeniable. So in my recent musings on what to wear I had an epiphany. Old school Black Widow....but with red hair. I guess its old school meets modern age or post feminist Black Widow if you will. Here are the shots...
Step into my parlour...

Did you see this coming?
Deadly with a pistol.
Vintage Femme Fatale
Blowing smoke

The sword can be even deadlier.


Now, how about that kiss?

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Bizzare Night for me

   Okay, so its Saturday night in Niagara Falls. To many its all fun and good times. I work on almost every Saturday night of the year, minus vacations. I don't mind really. Being as I am in my late forties, what else would I be doing on those nights? My job is great anyway from a voyeuristic point of view. I get see people out having fun while on vacation here. The Falls attracts lots of lovers and people looking for fun. On a Saturday night, we get a steady parade of good looking ladies dressed up to the nines for a night out. Our clientele is mostly thirties and older but I like that. More mature ladies tend to dress hotter and are usually more flirtatious. We get our fare share of twenty-somethings too. Usually at 2:30 am we have a steady parade of half drunk, barely twenty, young ladies coming in wearing mini-dress and heels they can barely walk in just after a night of clubbing but not ready to call it a night yet.  Sigh....
   Like I said. I enjoy the view. That's all I get after all. When I work, I am of course in drab. I wear a business suit and look professional. As a male, I have never been a chick magnet. I am not hideously ugly or anything but I have never been the "one night night stand guy" ever. I used to be jealous of my brother for his ability to wheel in the ladies. He had ass thrown at him like frisbees. I can recall in younger years going out and spending all night trying to chat up a girl, buying drinks and end up getting rejected or her saying she was just not "that kind of girl" but five minutes later she was in the bathroom giving my brother a blowjob. Go figure. Some guys have it, some of us don't. I never had it. I think many of us who crossdress do so partly because as men, we don't get much attention or don't think of ourselves as sexually attractive. We see some females not even trying. We think to ourselves..."If I was her, I would put on more makeup, wear a nice dress, some stockings, high heels and I would be irresistible"....
   I have some proof of this... I have 2 Flickr accounts. One is my everyday male, drab self and the other is Mary-Margret, my female personae. My male account gets 0-10 views a week and has had less than 10000 views in six years. My account for Mary-Margret gets 300-1000 views a day and  has had almost a million views in two years. I realize that as a man, I am not an attention getter. comes the weird part...

   Its a slow Saturday night. Its October, its cold and its raining heavy. Its a bit slow at work. Rare, but true. Not much happening. Early on, an attractive female regular walks in, looking hot, dressed sharp. She is always nice to me, sweet. I am friendly with her. Just good business. She flirts shamelessly with me. I know the game. Its not me, its just sucking up to the management. Still, she makes me horny and it is a nice ego boost if nothing else. Still, a slow night of business. The boss asks me if I want to cut out early. I have worked the most Saturdays and they don't need so much staff, so if I want, I can leave early. Its only 1230. I say, what the hell, I'll go. On my way out, my attractive patron corners me and I tell her that I am off the clock if she wants to do anything. Then, as I suspected, she confesses that she is just playing, she really isn't "that" into me. I wasn't surprised. Story of my life.
   Still, Saturday night and the bars are still open. There are several within walking distance so I choose a place that still has the ball game on, more open and not too loud with club music. I sit at the bar and order a beer. Looking around, I see that I am older than anyone else in there. No big deal. The young ladies were in large numbers with lots of leg showing so I would just sit and enjoy the view. I tried not to be creepy and stare too much but wow, they were there in the hundreds. I tried to focus on the ball game but the distractions were many. One young lady came up to buy a drink and struck up a conversation about baseball. Sweet. Then she went back to her friends and it was back to reality for me. One young blonde lady walked past wearing a minuscule black dress that didn't quite cover her sexy ass and had knee high black boots and fishnets. It was hard not to stare. She was with her boyfriend, a mulatto skin athletic man, holding hands so I looked away as to avoid any jealous conflicts. I sat and finished watching the Tigers beat the Yanks in 12 innings. Awesome!    
     After that I decided to have a walk around the bar with a beer and just take in the scenery. I felt out of place, twice as old as everyone else, wearing a suit. But the crowd was friendly. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Then I walked by a table with "that blonde" and her mulatto boyfriend. I probably stared too long, not because of the attraction but because they were sitting on the same side of the table, looking out, not facing each other. I thought it was strange. It looked like they were waiting for someone. Then I realized I was busted for staring. She smiled, so I politely smiled backed. She waved at me and signalled me to their table. I figured that I was either in trouble and would have to apologize or they were tourists who need directions, as usual. The girl asked me if I would join them. I was a bit hesitant and looked at her boyfriend. He smiled and nodded his approval. Okay, I thought. No conflict, must need directions. The guy extended his hand and introduced himself as Ed. We shook and I gave my real name as M****. His hot girlfriend then introduced herself as Edwina (Ed and Edwina? Not fakes names, right?) I sat down in their booth feeling more comfortable and extremely curious. Edwina then, as casual as could be, asked, "would you like to join us for a threesome?"
Jaw, get the picture. I looked back at Ed and he was smiling and said, "that's why we are here."
I tried not to hesitate too long but I was in shock. I tried to be as casual as possible, liked I got that question every day from young, super hot looking couples. I stammered out some kind of agreement and they seemed pleased. Edwina went on about Viagara, if I had any, knew where to get it, etc. She asked if I was rock hard because that's what she wanted. They asked me again if I was cool with a three way. Was this my birthday or something? I was in disbelief. Did they know what my biggest fantasy was? I am not kidding you. This shit actually happened. I asked them what hotel they were staying in and they told me to meet them there.
     That's all I am going to say about this because some things are best left unsaid. The point of this story was to show you that no matter how you feel about yourself, you never know where or when, it just might be your day.

Mary-Margret, (but just not tonight)