In Praise of Skinny Women

The popular saying states that you can never be too thin or too rich. Well, I’ve never much liked or agreed with the too thin part.

When it comes to the sexual prowess of women however, I have been labouring all these years under a grave misconception. I mistakenly believed that thin women were somehow inferior in the sack to their fleshier sisters. I’ve always felt pity for those unsmiling, emaciated and anorexic looking waifs on the modelling ramps of the world pouncing around like ungainly giraffes. Real women in my world are big and beautiful. I have always preferred that healthy profile of alluring curves and crevasses. Women with full voluptuous figures and robust appetites just like my beloved wife.

Being a fellow of ample proportions myself, I subscribed to the old Afrikaans adage: “soort soek soort,” which basically means “birds of feather flock together.” Put differently, most men with a 40 inch waist and above seemingly go for women with more Rubenesque proportions. In other words pear-shaped women built for comfort, with ample pendulant bosoms, plump rosy cheeks, soft-full lips and well padded bottoms. Though generally it seems most men regardless of their size prefer their women to be soft, feminine and more well-rounded as opposed to the hard, flat-chested androgynous athleticism of an Olympic female sprinter or hurdler.

As the old Greek saying claims: “the fat chicken has the juice!” But then a wizened old Greek presumably exasperated with his well-fed, lard-arsed wife, upon hearing this expression retorted: “Are we going to fuck or make soup?”

These men however could be missing out by overlooking skinny women and lusting after bigger busty babes. I have it on good authority that skinny women are to put it delicately, more well –endowed where it really counts. My source is very reliable and has impeccable credentials. He is a scholar, an officer and a gentleman. An army General, who appreciates the finer things in life, like women, wine, food, cigars and corporal punishment. He reminded me of the Afrikaans expression which says: “Aan die dunste takkie, hang die rypste vy.” Translated it means: “the ripest figs hang on the thinnest branches.” Another version of this expression goes: “agter die dunste riete skuil die grootste padda’s” Which means that the biggest frogs lurk among the thinnest reeds.

Now the Afrikaners are usually sensible, no-nonsense, solid farming folk who are far more dangerous and adventurous than their dour Dutch cousins and they presumably know a thing or two about their women, guns, animal husbandry in general and the virtues of fruit and its relation to intimate parts of the female anatomy. I fail to see however how by any stretch of the imagination, this home-spun logic can equate a frog to a vagina!

In any event I decided that I needed some empirical proof. I could not rely purely on hearsay and farming folklore as reliable evidence. Being a married male in his forties, which is the equivalent of an indentured serf, I feared losing my quarterly sexual privileges. One romp in each season; spring, summer, autumn and winter and naturally on my birthday which unfortunately falls in summer so it conveniently does not count anymore making the once obligatory birthday bonk sadly obsolete.

Unable to inspect the vaginas of real skinny women and stay married, I did what most married men do as a hobby nowadays to compensate for their looming or impending dotage. I went virtual. I turned to that infinite source of wisdom and learning, that modern oracle of knowledge, possessing answers to many of the mysteries of the world. I clicked on Google for guidance to point me in the right direction. Going purely on memory, I figured that professional ballerina’s have lean gazelle like bodies, so that would qualify them as skinny females. Unable to contain myself, I feverishly typed in “naked ballerina’s” bursting as I was with anticipation.

I am delighted to say that a whole new unexplored world opened up before me. I discovered that a group of highly talented, enterprising and uninhibited Japanese ballerina’s have discarded their tutus and decided to stage naked ballet performances. For example, they perform the Dance of the Seven Veils wearing nothing but their veils and their ballet pumps. What a wonderful and novel way to combine high-brow culture and artistic expression with good old-fashioned smut. This will certainly get more males like myself with a slight artistic bent to venture forth and go to the ballet to enjoy Swan Lake and other such classics. It may even persuade an entire generation of ardent Japanese train gropers to give up frottage, panty pulling and group wanking sessions in favour of more enlightened voyeuristic pursuits.

I poured over numerous dirty pictures and video clips of naked ballerinas practising their movements and stretching their willowy limbs on the cross-bar with carefree and brazen insouciance. The Nutcracker Suite took on a whole new meaning. This stretched more than just my imagination. It also confirmed what the General has been telling me for a long time. Skinny women and especially ballerinas may be slight of build but they make up for this seeming physical deficiency by having very generous triangles of desire. In some cases their libidinous nether regions are so abundant and prominent; they positively pout and protrude proudly with beckoning ripeness. After watching the precision of their movements, their effortless grace and lightness, I was mesmerised. In my near delirious state I imagined one such sprightly and butt naked nymph pirouetting over my prostate body. Imagine how they could spin effortlessly around your……….! One such “porno prima ballerina” a 21 year old veteran with fifteen years experience admitted with youthful exuberance: “I’d really like people to take a really close look when I do my jumps and pirouettes.” How welcoming! How utterly engaging!

I instantly berated myself for being such a cultural philistine. For too long I had dismissed these lithesome creatures of the stage as unworthy of serious sexual advances. Mea culpa! I was wrong! How can one even begin to compare the big, broad, blonde brashness of uber-bimbo Pamela Anderson to the delicate suppleness of a classically trained dancer? Suddenly I had a new found interest in Pas de Deuxs and Grande Jete, (which for the uninitiated is the polite term for spreading of the legs) and other such previously unfathomable intricacies.

So if you feel uncomfortable in sleazy strip bars where fleshy, curvaceous women do strange things with beer bottles and you like your nudity more refined, then naked ballet is definitely for you. It is understandable that freshly weaned teenagers and men in their twenties are still fixated with large breasts and Jennifer Lopez derrieres. With advancing age however ones tastes evolve and hopefully become more sophisticated. I no longer automatically seek out those impressive looking Amazons with the big hair, thick thighs and heaving chests. I now gaze upon slightly built women with a new-found appreciation and a knowing glint in my eye.

And remember: if you want to be happy for the rest of your life; make a skinny woman your wife! Preferably a ballerina.

Costa Ayiotis
Pretoria