Having read a recent letter to DOMAI I feel compelled to reply.
A large part of what transpires as one progresses to the state of DOMdom happens very early on in life. At 43 years of age, I can still remember being four. I remember learning to ride a two-wheeler, and I remember having to tag along with my mother when she took my older brothers to school every morning. And I remember well that there NEVER was a time in my life when I thought 'girls' were "icky" or cooty-carrying vessels!
Every morning I would have to get up and go with my mother and brother to school, and, because my brother was a "trouble" student, my mom (and I by default) would have to walk him to his first class. And in his class was a lovely little creature named "Cindy". She was much shorter than the other kids, and four years older than me, but to me she was the epitome of beautiful. With her dark brown curly hair and her larger than life hazel eyes, I couldn't imagine thinking of anything but kissing her. And that is what I tried to do every single day!
The game was as Innocent as could be - I would chase her and she would run away, pretending to be annoyed and grossed out by my advances. (She didn't run very fast!) I would catch her some days, and we would roll through the hallway together. Her with her arms in feinted defense, and I with my lips in a ridiculous pucker... kissing every part of her I came in contact with.
It was a more innocent time, and the improprieties were not even a factor- we were both having a fun time and no one ever was hurt or offended.
But the thing that ties it all together is just this- we all are born with a natural curiosity and fascination with the fairer sex, and there is nothing "dirty" about it. It is the way we were designed. We begin all learning in life imitating what we see. You watched your father shave, you watched your mother drive a car, you watched your older siblings prepare for dates, and they watched someone else do it. Things are learned, or they are natural. And it is when someone tries to make the natural obscene or vulgar that a DOM becomes born. Because a DOM in my eyes is simply a man that refuses to go with the norm, and refuses to see beauty and sensuality as perverted. This site allows us all the chance to gaze upon beauty free from guilt or accusation. It gives us a chance to see the beauty in God's creation.
To deny ones feelings, or yearnings is to deny ones own existence. It's OK- no it's applaudible- to be a Dirty Old Man- if by dirty you mean that you enjoy the beauty and harmony of a female form. With or without clothes. Makes no real difference. It's ALL good, it's all BEAUTY.
Sensuality, beauty, nudity and sex are not always "joined at the hip". Some of the women in this site provide me with very sexual thoughts and fantasies- and that's OK. Some of them merely seem to offer me a gaze into the beauty of their being- that is- they are simply sharing what God has given them. And THAT, my friend , is DEFINITELY OK by me!
I have enjoyed your site for years, but have never been tempted to write until reading this weeks offering on stages of being a D.O.M. I have been growing to my present stage for years, but I dont think I truly arrived until I reached an age where it felt safe due to my age, to flirt with pretty women without being in danger of being accused of harassment, or slapped for being fresh.
After a career of 32 years in public education, where in these times the slightest hint of inappropriate remark or touch brings lawsuits or worse, my retirement brought the opportunity for a new career in merchandising in a shopping village in a neighboring university town. Coeds were in great abundance, a virtual feast for the eyes.
After years of eating lunch in school cafeterias (or closeted in my office) the opportunity to eat in restaurants, with adults, was a joyful experience, and I began to introduce myself to hostesses and waitresses (and waiters) and store clerks, simply as Pat. The freedom to be casual with these vibrant young people was liberating beyond belief.
One chance encounter however, sums up my eleven-year enjoyment of this new-found freedom. I was returning to work from lunch one spring day, and noticed a beautiful woman approaching from the other end of the block. She was NOT a coed, but a more mature (perhaps late 30s, early 40s) woman who fairly glowed. My thought as she drew near was Oh my!. I dont know if I actually said it out loud, or if she sensed it, but as we passed, she looked me straight in the eyes, smiled a stunning smile, and said: Thanks!
I truly cannot remember what she looked like. I simply remember that she was beautiful and that a chance encounter provided an opportunity for appreciation and acknowledgment of that beauty and appreciation on her part for the acknowledgment, spoken or not.