Long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses...

Well, I believe in the soul. The cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing AstroTurf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days. ~ Crash Davis

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I adore Crash Davis and would do just about anything he asked if he talked to me like this.

I too believe.

Long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses...

There is that moment in a kiss. You move in, the butterflies have settled and then they stir up again. You feel a twist, no not in your cock or your pussy, but rather somewhere just above there. It is as if someone has hold of your insides and is squeezing just a little, or touching you with something electric. That feeling radiates out and down and up. Your breath catches, your legs go just a bit weak. Oh, my God. It is barely a moment before lips touch lips. But when it is good that moment is a lifetime as well. And then yes, lips touch lips and your head spins and you feel it all. Breath now.

Oh, to be with someone who knows how to kiss. There is an art to it. A good kisser, I have found from extensive research, will be good at many other areas of sexual bliss. For they are students of body language. A good kisser seems to be able to anticipate what you want, what you need and it is as if they are listening to all you are communicating with every twitch of a muscle, every sped up breath, every tiny moan that you let escape they tune in to all of it and adjust a thousand times per second. A really good kiss can make you dizzy with desire. A good kisser can give and recieve. They can let go and let you be in charge without giving up their own giving back. They can take charge and let you float in a sea of a thousand desires.

... that last three days.

I could kiss the right kisser for hours. Heavy petting, making out, first base, second base... home run. It is amazing how far a good kiss can get someone. Lean in slow, hold my eyes with your gaze, whisper something soft and sexy, just the moment before our lips meet close your eyes slowly, slowly... fucking slowly... until I move that last little bitty millimeter. My lips are soft, their lips are soft, together it is perfection. Just a little parted, open up just enough to tease. Tip of a tongue gentle, soft, tracing and touching where nerves are zinging along all the right pathways. Hand on the small of my back or the back of my head, holding, not pulling just enough pressure so I know you want this. You want me. Oh, and it is a powerful thing to be wanted.

And that kiss will last three days.

Tell me... what do you believe....

HNT - Minimalist

Almost seemed like a Minimalist painting when I cropped it.

(or maybe quasi-cubist... hmmm... abstract...

well apologies to all real artist, but liked the artsy aspect of it.)

Happy HNT!

A Picnic...

I had considered it while I was in the shower as I had been dreaming of her all night. I wanted to see her, just her and I, and try and understand this growing attraction. I also wanted her sweet, "Yes Ma'am." to mean it. The steps were right there I just needed to move forward.

I asked her for her Master's phone number. He and I had talked about some of this perviously. He had shared with me that her and me becoming close and intimate was a good thing of which he approved. The friendship between the four of us was such an easy and natural thing. And when I talked to him it was a simple question, "I would like to take her to lunch, and I would like to ask a bit of her for the outing, will that be ok?" His yes made my heart beat nicely.

And so I can back to her on chat and told her what she would be doing this morning.

"I want you to come have lunch with me."
"I want you to pack us a lunch and bring a blanket and the lotion that smells pretty."
"I want you to wear a pretty colored bra and a white shirt."

She offered me a yes Ma'am to each of them. I could hear her sweet southern accent even in her texting on the screen.

"You will be here at noon. Park on the street, put the things in my car on the back seat and sit in the passenger seat. When you are there text me."

She again gave me a yes Ma'am. And I smiled sitting there at my desk.

"Oh, and I want one more thing. I want you to write five things you want me to know about you and bring that with you."

God, work just dragged by waiting for her text.

She is beyond sweet. Her smile brightens the day. I find it difficult not to simply lean over there in my car still sitting in my work parking lot and kiss her with passion. I want to strip her bare and touch every inch of her soft skin. I want to hurt her and then hold her close as she clings to me in space. I want her to tell me all her secrets as I need her in some primal way to trust me. There is a connection that sizzles, I can still feel it echoing over my skin right now.

All I really do there in my car with her sitting next to me is shift my car into drive and let one pinky finger gently brush against her knee there just below the hem of her shorts.

We are just two friends going to lunch. That is all you would see. Smiling, talking, just girlfriends happy to see each other and talk about the day. No big deal at all. The picnic lunch was delicious, but nothing naughty to see there.

We are more, a lot more. If you walked by the little blanket she laid on the grass under the tree I could imagine you would feel the electricity. If you knew that each choice she made about lunch was an act of service so beautiful, you would be jealous with the thought that having that offered is an amazing thing. Each simple act she gave me that morning was special. She remembered pickles. That is perfection.

And we talked, and she read me her list, and we talked. I wanted to lay her back and show her my passion. I had planned more for the outing... never got to the lotion or the pens in my pocket or the things I wanted to whisper in her ear. Instead I gave her all my attention. I listened to her. This is how it will work, I need to hear her fully so I can know her truly. And in knowing her I will know how it will work for us. We are not on an easy path. The boys must not be ignored. There are four of us in this relationship. There are two of us in this relationship. There are four of us in this relationship. We all weave together in an amazing way. He lays next to me now. He lays next to her now. And maybe tomorrow she will lay next to me. We weave together and it is beautiful as the patterns emerge.

I kiss her softly there under the tree there on the little blanket in the grass. I know I have taken her by surprise. She doesn't quite kiss me back yet, but her smile tells me what my heart already knows. There is so much more to come.

On her post on her blog she offered that this simple line to the end of her post ... to be continued...

I do absolutely love those three little words.

And so...

To be continued...

MFM - One Step at a Time

I stripped naked as she ordered, one piece of clothing after another folded neatly and placed behind me until I was shivering in the cool breeze. I knelt down as she ordered. I closed my eyes as she ordered. I felt the silk of the scarf cover them and then she tied it tightly behind my head. I put my hands behind my back as she ordered. I felt the second bit of silk wrapping around my wrists as she bound them together. I stood at her command and felt her hand laid gently against my lower back.

“Now, walk forward slowly, one step at a time and I want you to count to ten before you take another. Do not stop stepping forward until I tell you.” She said softly as she leaned just a bit against me. Her warm body was such a contrast against my cooling skin. My heart was racing, I could feel the blood pounding making my head feel light. My breath was coming faster. We had the conversation only last night about trust. I had said simply, that I trusted her completely. Then I had added to that and said I trusted her completely with my life. She had said simply that we would see.

I didn't even answer her order to take that first step, I didn't offer her the customary, “Yes, Mistress.” I simply began letting my actions speak. I took one step, counted to ten, took another step, counted to ten, and it was on the third step when I felt the cold ocean water on my feet. It took my breath away. I counted to ten and took another step.

Trusted her completely. Yes, we would see. With my life. Yes, we would see. And I took another step as she ordered.


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Written for Microfantasy Monday #16 at the Sweltering Celt. This week's theme waterside.

Arts & Crafts

Wanted to get creative in a new way today. Saw a lot of great new toys this weekend and thought, maybe I could make something pretty for myself. A trip to the hardware and crafts store and several hours later and look... new toys. The yellow and black one even glows in the dark. No, I have no idea why I would ever need a glow in the dark cane, but I am prepared if the need arises.

Hubby likes the red one best. Just a little sting and leaves pretty stripes. I will just have to find someone else to let me really break in the others... volunteers?

Whip It

Yes, I know it is a terrible picture (hubby's camera on his cell phone in low light), but it is the only one I have and it is worth sharing for a reason. This is me last night. It is the first time I held a whip (yes, there is a whip there is my raised hand), and I made it crack with a sound that was at once a turn on and strangely powerful.

Dove allowed me the use of his beautiful self-crafted whip and he offered the patience to demonstrate (repeatedly) the technique for its use. I understand as with any skill hours of practice is required for proficiency and I will not be using one on any live person tomorrow. But I do have to say after a number of ineffectual swishes through the air and several more attempts on Dove's part to get my wrist and arm and body in sync the moment the tip cracked with a beautiful loud pop was a delight. It almost feels as if you are controlling some bit of something primeval, electricity or the air itself and that was a lovely rush.

And I didn't whip myself in the eye and end up as a pirate, or smack myself in the back of the head, or launch the thing into the big screen TV. And considering there were four men and one cute girl standing and sitting there commenting on nearly every swing, I think the chutzpah of me just trying should be applauded (okay, go ahead, give me a small clap... thank you!).

Hmmm... maybe I need a whip in my toybox, yellow and black braided leather perhaps. No, I don't know where or when or on whom I would use it, but I know you have lots of tools in your shed, just in case you need them for that one job. And just practicing with it would be fun.

A Dominant Woman Must...

At some point, a dominant woman must dominate, setting Her own expectations and ensuring that they are met.

This is a quote from man possessed in response to a question I asked on one of his recent posts. It really struck a resonating cord with me when I read it and at the risk of laying out delicate vulnerabilities of self-doubt (which I know is a significant aspect of blogging, but vulnerable is difficult) I will offer a bit of me here and my evening last night.

I wanted to take her hand and lead her away. I wanted intimate and quiet and just us for the start. But I couldn't bring myself to simply get up and do that, she was not mine no matter the permission offered. It wasn't a matter of nerve. More an issue of being rude to the rest of them there in the room in pursuit of pleasure with her, and despite the desire, courtesy said no. (Ok, even to me that sounds like a weak excuse). But maybe that was a mistake on my part. But I couldn't just toss manners out the window. But in hindsight maybe I should have. But I also was still unsure of it all and I wanted to know, I wanted her to make me believe that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

A dominant woman must dominate. And so I perhaps should have taken what I wanted. But it seemed easier said than done. My fears. She didn't really want it, and she has to want it or it is meaningless for me. She wanted it one way, I another and the oil and water differences wouldn't mix. Oh, and maybe a dozen more little and big things. But articulation brings frustration and admitting to mistakes. I can only lay out so much honesty for your consumption before I am lost to the frustrations.

A dominant woman must set her own expectations. But what was I expecting? I still do not know as I am and was allowing it to simply happen, whatever the “it” might be. And maybe that is a passive aggressive mistake. I must say what I want clearly and let the consequences to my spoken desires be what they are. But my vulnerability here is still that possibility of rejection, as it is anytime you lay out clearly what you want, what you expect. Wait, that is not entirely true about last night. I never really thought she would reject me, but rather worried she would find me lacking in what I offered to her. I thought perhaps the exchange would not be enough. But as I never began I do not know the answers to the jumble of self-imposed what-if questions.

If I say on your knees and worship my toes and it is done without enthusiasm, is that worse than it being refused? If I say kiss me and the order is complied with but the kiss is unwanted, is that something I want? If I take a paddle or a whip or my hand to a bottom and it does not bring any pleasure with the pain to the one enduring, is there any point to the exchange? And if I say do this _________ and this _________ is refused why would I ever ask again? None of this happened last night because I never took the steps to even see, I think now that was a mistake. But then in the moment I didn't see clearly another option. Mostly, lack of real experience. And so I ask you to be gentle with your criticisms (constructive and otherwise).

There is a chaos to my thoughts obviously. I can see this as I write. You can see that chaos as you read them here and I can imagine you sitting there shaking your head in amusing wonder at my lack of confidence. A dominant woman must dominate. Just as there is a a cause and effect to a submissive's refusal to submit, so too is there a cause and effect to a dominant not dominating. There will always be consequences to all we do and all we do not do.

Stream of consciousness is just that, a stream. The thoughts roil and tumble over the rocks of worry, the eddies of self-doubt. They sometimes speed up when considering the what-ifs and the should-haves, but too they can pool and stagnate when considering all the possibilities, good and bad, and all the lost opportunities.

There is a time and place for all things. But sometimes you miss seeing that the time was that exact moment and the place was exactly where you were. There is always cause and effect to action and inaction.

A dominant women must dominate or....

I will leave it unfinished as it is just to frustrating in this moment to consider the rest of that sentence.

Three Sirens

Three sirens... sounds like the perfect number.

So looking forward to the weekend.

Toes Hard at Work

Well, okay, I did slip my shoes off and put my feet up before starting the next project, but really I am working hard here. I was on the phone solving very important work problems (boss couldn't figure out how to attach a file to an email...sighhhhh).

Got a fresh pedicure last night. I thought this shade of deep purplely red was pretty. Even in these tough economic times I just can't seem to give up my pedicures. Well, I did trim back a bit and just get the standard treatment, not the complete spa package. Oh, the sacrifices a girl must make.... food... pedicure... hmmmm, touch decisions.

Tonight is Third Thursday, YEA!! So looking forward to seeing my naughty friends and maybe making some new ones. Then maybe a bit of play this weekend in L.A. We will see if it all comes to pass, but it is fun to be open to the possibilities.

What do you have planned for the weekend?

HNT - Art

When I am trying to be creative and share that creativity with others, that is when I feel most vulnerable and exposed... nekkid if you will. This was the creation of sebrina's painting from previous posts, but this one includes the artist as well. It is only an arm, a hand holding a pencil, but right now it feels very naked.