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I, too, am a redneck woman. Hell yeah! Born in a small town in Oklahoma on St. Patrick's day in 1968. In Oklahoma, the boys and men don't take no for an answer, and their hobby is very .
I learned that I don't need to eat off of fine china, a bowl on the floor will do. I don't need to drink champagne from a crystal goblet, beer in a second bowl will work. I don't need expensive clothes or negligees, heels and a light coat of baby oil will attract all the attention I can handle. I don't need a man to respect me, in fact the less he does, the more I am attracted to him. I do need him to be creative, intelligent and adventurous, and like those Oklahoma men, he needs to know what buttons to push, or pull as the case may be. Hell yeah!
Among the first lessons I was taught was how men wanted little girls to pose for pictures, how to look alluring while jumping naked on a trampoline, what to do on a man's lap to ensure I got his attention, and what to whisper in his ear to seal the deal. How to sneak out of my bedroom and house at night, and how to slide into bed next to a man who is sleeping next to his wife. Although most of the women in my hometown were the sole breadwinner, working two jobs if necessary, so finding private time with their husbands was not a problem. Hell yeah!
I learned that most male relatives really liked the little girls born into their family, and being traded by my Daddy for a niece, let's say, was really an honor. I also learned that if a girl was lucky enough to have a Daddy who was an alcoholic and passed out at about the same time every night, it created wonderful and forbidden opportunities. Hell yeah!
A couple more things. Pain? Not sure a girl can be taught to love it, but not sure she can't. I will never forget the first time I "leaned into" the pain, and how it made my tummy tickle. To this day, it still does. Blow jobs? There was an old bachelor in the neighborhood who loved to teach the girls how to do it right. I remember that he had the hands of a working man -- rough, often with grease under his nails -- that felt so good on my face and throat as he worked on my "alignment." His lessons often lasted hours, and left me flushed and breathless. Gag reflex? What gag reflex? Hell yeah!
That's about it. If you don't have a real good sense of who I am and what I like by now, I wish you good luck in your search! Hell yeah!
[if254 1]
My Ideal Person:
he or she is older than me (enough older to be a parent is wonderful), experienced, imaginative, and adventurous. no situation is too dangerous, you love what others think is taboo, and you know how to effectively humiliate a girl. your dirtiest thought is probably one of my favorite fantasies.
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