Wine Tasting

He shut the door behind him softly, turning his face to the dim living room.   He squinted, the flickering candlelight brushing soft lines of silhouette near the window at the end of the room.

“Come in and put your things on the table.”  Her silky voice surprised him, and he reflexively gripped the small bag in his hand.  He did as he was told, hand flexing again when her voice sounded.

“Remove your clothing.”  He breathed deep as he reached for his t-shirt.  He was momentarily disappointed she would not see the funny saying on the front of the shirt.  He had worn it thinking it would make her laugh and was looking forward to her response.

His feet worked his sneakers off, the jeans and underwear followed and he put them on the chair before bending and peeling off his socks.  He stood again, the slightly cool air of the room kissed his skin with goosebumps.

He looked again at the shadow of his Mistress, flanks tensed as he waited for her next command.  He didn’t have to wait long.

“Open the wine and pour us each a glass  Then bring them here.”

He quickly complied, smelling the fruity scent of the red wine as he poured a liberal amount into the glasses waiting there.  He picked the glasses up and walked over to her.  As he approached he could see the outline of her legs.  Her curvy, strong legs were covered with black thigh-high stockings.  On her feet were a pair of black pumps.  He nearly groaned as his eyes traveled from her thigh to her toes and back.  He dared not peek further up.

“Kneel.”  One syllable and he was on his knees in front of her, naked and bearing her wine.  His cock was already beginning to swell.

He held up a glass of wine and waited.  She reached forward, her long fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass.  He could imagine those fingers wrapping around him.  The thought made a groan form in his chest.  His teeth bore down on his bottom lip to keep the sound from escaping.

She took a drink of the wine, her red lips parting as her tongue licked the traces off her mouth.  His cock thickened further.

“Would you like to taste your wine?” She asked him, gesturing to the other glass still in his hand.

“Yes, Ma’am, I would.”  He replied.

“You may do so after you take care of that hard cock.”  She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward and holding up a small bottle of lubricant.  She ran a finger along his shaft before gripping him so firmly the wine glass in his hand shook.

“This is unacceptably hard.”  Long fingers ran the length of him, grasping his thickness and squeezing until the head shimmered with precum.  He gasped.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He looked for a table to set the wine glass.  Mistress shook her head.

“No, my Pet, you misunderstand.  You must hold the wine while you stroke your cock for me.”  She smiled at him and took another drink.  “You will not spill a drop.  If you do, I will plug your ass.”

He winced. His ass was still in training and he was fairly sure she would not use the training plugs if she followed through on her threat.

“Yes Ma’am.”

He did not have to work to make it hard.  His cock was throbbing already, begging for touch.  He opened his palm and Mistress poured some lube on it. He spread the lube down over his head and shuddered at his own touch.  He was so swollen with arousal he did not think it would be long before his offering was ready for her.

He worked his hand up and down his shaft slowly, squeezing his fingers over the head of his cock.  His breathing quickened, and a small gasp escaped him as he caressed his head again.

“Look up at me,” She commanded.  He obeyed, raising his eyes to hers.  He could feel his heartbeat racing, his hand working his shaft faster as he allowed his mind to envision her receiving him.  He momentarily closed his eyes as pleasure began to overtake him.

He was not aware of her movement until her fingers caressed his cheek as they traveled to his jaw. She pulled his face to the side abruptly.  “Open your eyes!”  They flew open in surprise.  Her mouth was so close he could have leaned forward and kissed her.  But he did not dare.  His hand continued its increasingly frantic pace on his cock.  It would not be long now.

“Please Mistress,” he gasped, cords in his neck straining as he held back his orgasm.  “May I cum please?”

“Not yet.”  She smiled and moved to his other side, one hand caressing a trail from his shoulder to his nipple.  She grasped it tightly.  He fought back the orgasm, thinking about accounting, baseball, dishwasher repair.  Anything to keep from cumming before his Mistress allowed it.

“Please!” He was beginning to feel a burning sensation in his balls and knew he could not hold back much longer.

“You may cum,” She breathed softly, her mouth caressing his ear.  “In your glass.”

His brain barely registered her words in time, he thrust the glass down to his crotch, as desperate not to spill it as he was to cum.  He groaned loudly as his thick, creamy fluid squirted into the glass.  He stroked the last drops out, shuddering and nearly laughing in disbelief – he had not spilled a drop.

His Mistress was still kneeling behind him, her hands on his skin and her sweet mouth trailing kisses down his neck.

“Very well done,” She said, kissing his neck and allowing him to feel her teeth sinking into his skin.  He felt the burning pleasure of his nipple being twisted in her fingers.  She stood abruptly, the sudden lack of touch making him miss her proximity already.

She returned to her chair and crossed her legs again.  Her wine glass was once again wrapped in her fingers.

“Salute,”  She said, holding up her glass.  He mimicked her gesture and ignored the disbelief he felt at what he was about to do.

“Salute” he echoed back as he tipped the glass and drank it down.

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My New Pet

It was the culmination of a dance that began last April.  A man and a woman, who had been spending time as “friends” yet sizing each other up for something much more.

Your interest in me is unclear.  But my intuition says your interest stems from the hope there is a Domina within me.  And you are betting your hand that she can be unleashed.  You want her unleashed so that she can put that leash on you.

You asked to see pictures of the marks you left on my pale skin.  The teeth marks, the bruises where you alternately bit and sucked me until my pitch changed from pleasurable pain to pure pain.  I replied that you would need to earn those pictures with your obedience.

How swiftly you complied!  You were so eager to obey.  It shocked and delighted me.

And so we begin a journey together.

One task.  One picture.  One picture for each mark.  And with each task, you will take me deeper within your mind, within your psyche.  Until I am there in your thoughts whether you want me there or not.

And so we begin the training of my new Pet.

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Five Men

I was at the market tonight, standing in the alcohol aisle clutching my little basket of chicken breast and whole wheat bread.  I was staring at a bottle of Macallan 12 year.  I wondered…if I bought it and showed up one night on your doorstep with that bottle, an aged olive branch in my hand…would you invite me in? Would you pour us a drink? Would we sit together awkward at first, then rediscovering that easy rhythm we once shared? Would you be glad to see me? Would we talk into the wee hours, sipping our drinks and hoping the night lasted long enough for a conversation that never truly had an end?

***

I checked my email seven times today.  Hoping to hear from you and being disappointed seven times.  This was not how I pictured this going.  This feels like a recurring nightmare –  it hurts like a pain in my past.   Are you going to be the next in line to try to bring me to my knees? Are you going to say that I brought you to yours?  If I showed up in Ontario, my heart wide open for you to see, would you tell me I was too late? Would you shake your head and tell me to turn around and go home? Would you take me in your arms and kiss me like you’ve always said you would? Was this all just a terrible illusion or was the love we believed in for the last 18 months real?

***

I reached out to you today about a trivial thing, a mere matter of logistics.  You struck like a viper, injecting your poison straight from your soul and into my heart.  How can it be possible that I knew you intimately for 17 years and never saw what a petty, vindictive little child you can be?  I reacted in anger, my buttons perfectly pushed.  And yet now, in the chill of the night, I see your pain.  I feel the pain you still carry – fresh as it was the day I flayed your heart open by saying yes to your question. But you don’t get to punish me for that any longer.  You don’t get to bully me or control me ever again.  You say I wasted ten grand and gained nothing more than what you were offering two years ago.  But the truth is, I spent what I needed to buy my freedom.  I did what was best for me and my children.  I stood up to you and refused to let you bully me.  I learned to fight and built up the stamina I need to go as many rounds as it takes to keep you in your corner.  This is my life now so…would you please fuck off?

***

You thought my Christmas present was over the top.  And to some people’s perspectives, I agree it looks that way.  But your gift was as much a present to me as it was to you.  Yes, I gave you the Mancala set.  With 48 stones, lovingly and thoughtfully, purposefully and intentionally picked for you.  Yes, I spent about 10 hours total time compiling a 20 page list detailing each stone and its physical and metaphysical properties.  But that part of the gift was for my benefit, not yours.  It brought me in touch with my hopes and dreams, and made me acknowledge my unnamed fears.  It gave shape, color, texture, and a name for the feeling I have for you.  It helped me reignite my love of the Earth and brought me back to my Mother’s bosom.  That was for MY benefit, Slappy.  While yes, the gesture was absolutely one of the most tender love, it was directed at both of us – not just you.  So don’t get too blown over backwards by it.  It was just a Mancala set. ;)

***

You are the faceless, nameless man of my future. Would you please approach me with a degree of intelligence, a hint of compassion, more than a little patience?  Would you be forgiving when I am socially awkward? Would you be honest with me, give me real human interaction, and drop this Game-Face Bullshit game everyone seems to play? Would you please fuck me hard enough to make me cum from my head to my toes? I hope you and I mesh well.  I hope we treat each other like a gift.  I hope we behave like a couple of conspiratorial partners in crime. Would you be the greatest adventure of my life and please, may I be yours?  I hope so.  I hope we never stop having fun together – even if there are rough times in between.  I don’t know it right now, but some day I will look at this and see your face, maybe even reach across the couch and take your hand.  I will read these words and know I was talking about you.  I just want to say: I love you.

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I stand alone

Author’s Note:  This is one of the rare times when the words you read here are are not fiction.  There is nothing sexy or erotic about what I am going to reveal here.  Consider it a glimpse behind the veil.

Today, for the first time since I was 22, I stand alone.

As of 9:50 a.m. today, I am officially a divorced woman.

I came home tonight to an empty apartment – a homecoming that I managed to put off several hours with mindless retail therapy in the name of Jolly Old Saint Nicholas.

Today, I did not turn to Kik, to text messages, to the countless digital distractions that have filled my days since I moved out of my home.  Today I spent the day holding it all in – the pain, the sorrow, the loss, the regret, the animosity, the anger.  At one point during the day, a well-meaning coworker asked me if I was alright? His question nearly broke my tenuous composure.

No.

I am NOT okay.

None of this is okay.

It isn’t just the divorce.  Yes, it is true I held my breath in a courtroom today, avoiding eye contact with a judicial assistant as I silently prayed the Judge saw the desperation in my ex’s last-ditch attempt to reduce child support.  I silently prayed that I would find the well-spring of calm within that would help me get through this terrible day.  I prayed for strength, hoping that the strength so many people claim to see in me would not fail me in my moment of need.

But today was a final reckoning in many ways.

There has been a couple of years of seismic change in my life.  I have made countless choices that have had expected, and unexpected, consequences.  I have leaned on people, digital strangers who became friends, lovers, and ghosts.  I have fled my sorrow hiding from my feelings in the arms of men – seeking distraction from my pain in frivolity.

I have lost. Husbands, families, circles of love that I thought would always be there embracing me.  I have shattered more than just my own dreams for the future.  I have taken away dreams from those who are too young to know what they have lost.

I have lost friends whose wisdom and humor, whose perspective and support kept me going when I felt I could not fight any longer.  I have lost the dream of someone – the dream of a future I dared to long for, but was not courageous enough to fight for.  Love I once held in my heart for others.

I have lost love.  Love from people who once called me family. Love from people who yearned to call me their Lover.  Love from those who said their love for me would never end.

There are regrets.  I can see clearly the pain my journey has caused others.  As this Phoenix has burned, so has she burned those who stood too close to her.

I can only pray that now the burning is over.  With each dawn that brightens my bedroom, I hope beyond all other that the burning time is over and today is the day I will rise from the ashes.

Today, for the first time since I was 22, I stand alone.

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One Hell of a View

The shower was impressive.  Sleek, marble tile, floor to ceiling glass enclosure, multiple body jets.  It overlooked an amazing view of the river; all the way to the mountains in the distance.  A shower with a view.  It was like something out of a design magazine Sarah had gasped when she first saw it.

Wayne had laughed at that, maybe even laughed a little at her naivete before he turned on the jets and invited her to join him under the hot spray.  Sarah wasted no time and soon she was enclosed in the glorious shower, her body pressed close to his as his hunger rose anew.

Wayne kissed her deeply, hands tracing the fullness of her breast before he grasped her nipples and pinched hard eliciting a moan that made him grin.  He ran his hands down her ass, grasping a handful of her cheeks and lifting her up to him.  She eagerly returned his kiss but was surprised when he suddenly spun her away from him.  She made a questioning sound and he laughed.  She felt him propel her gently towards one of the body jets, his arm wrapped around her waist supporting her.

Sarah was confused until she felt his foot push her legs wide apart, allowing the water jets to blast against her open pussy and thighs.  She could not control the sound of surprised pleasure as the pulsating water made contact with her delicate skin.  She could feel her legs tremble and was glad he had an arm around her waist.  She looked up over her shoulder at him and he seized the opportunity to kiss her again, his passionate mouth adding to the dizzying pleasure she was feeling.

Wayne clapped a hand to her pussy, temporarily interrupting the flow of the water, and then clapped again, spanking her pussy lightly with his large palm.  She gasped, her hips pivoting against him, meeting his lights slaps.  His fingers spread her lips even wider, and he held her open to the water spray. His other hand grasped her breast, teasing her nipple until Sarah thought she would collapse.

She came hard, beneath his probing fingers and the merciless pounding of the hot water.  Shivering from head to toe she had no time to recover before he pushed her against the far wall – the glass wall facing out to the view.

His lean body, reasonably fit for a man in his early 60s, was tensed with controlled strength.  His cock was rock hard when he brushed against her.  The same tight sinew she had experienced the night before.  She couldn’t tell if his arousal was due to the taboo thrill of the fact she was 20 plus years his junior, or that she had spent the night with him – enacting a series of sins his marital bed had never before been party to.  She didn’t really care.  His hard cock pressed against her ass as she ground against him and she felt his firm grip as he pinned her hands to the glass before her.

He pushed her face to the glass, her nipples reacting instantly to the colder temperature as her eyes drank in the amazing view.  He dropped to his knees in the shower, his mouth seeking her slick pussy.  He pushed her legs further apart and she moaned as his tongue split her tender lips and teased her clit.  His hands spread her ass as he swept his tongue across her, licking her from ass to clit and back.  Sarah rose on her tiptoes, bending her knees slightly to open her body to his eager mouth.  She couldn’t stop herself and ground against his face as the pleasure overcame her.

Wayne delved two fingers into her pussy while his tongue worked her ass.  Sarah’s moans grew louder and she felt her body convulsing again as another orgasm swept over her.  She could feel the fluid leaking from her shaking body and flashed back to a moment the night before:  His face buried between her thighs, Sarah riding his face until her cum ran down his cheeks and chin.

Wayne rose to his feet and whipped her around again, kissing her fiercely.  Sarah tasted her own juices in his kiss and when he effortlessly lifted her and pressed her back to the shower tile, she wrapped her legs eagerly around him, impaling her hungry body on his cock.

He groaned and went deep, driving his hips forward into her hot body, grabbing her wrists and pinning them high above her head.  The position lifted her breasts and his mouth found them even as his body pulled back and drove forward again.

Their gutteral moans mingled amid the steam and water.  Thrusting hard, grunting like animals, he pounded her fiercely; driving his cock deep as though his salvation lie within her tight slit. Sarah cried out as her body was wracked with spasms and his thrusts slowed down slightly, growing longer.  He gave her every inch of his shaft, slowing down and teasing her relentlessly while her body recovered.

He smiled at the red flush in her cheeks and when she opened her eyes to look up at him told her, “You’re not done Little Miss.  You’re going to cum for me again.”

Sarah shook her head in disbelief as her mouth dropped open at the feel of his cock’s length sliding in and out of her.  He leaned down and sucked hard on her nipple, leaving one behind to nip and suck at the other.  She moaned again.  He released her, returning her feet to the floor.  He stuck a finger in her mouth, letting her suck eagerly at the digit before pulling it away, turning her away from him and pressing it to her ass.  She groaned low in her throat as he filled her ass with his finger and began to fuck her anew.

He now had her bent forward at the hips, he could see her fingers trying to find a hold on the slick glass.  His ears were filled with her cries and the wet slap of their skin as his hips thrust hard against hers.  He pushed his finger deep into her ass and fucked hard, knowing his orgasm was not far.  He held on, determined she would cum once more before he found his own release.  He tilted her hips slightly, rhythmically fucking her ass with his finger while his cock filled her.  Sarah’s cries came moments before he felt the hot gush of fluid in her pussy.  Wayne gritted his teeth and thrust harder, almost violently until with a final cry he filled her sweet body with his cum.

Sarah enjoyed the feeling of his body twitching inside her and made no effort to move.  As her breathing slowed and his cock softened inside her, she noticed a beautiful sailboat out on the river.  She watched a moment while the boat tacked from one side to another and began to sail away from her.

“Damn, Wayne,” she signed as she took in the scenery before her, “This shower really does have one hell of a view.”

Wayne shrugged, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his companion’s smooth ass bent forward in supplication before him.  “It does indeed,” he agreed with a grin.

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Filed under anal sex, designer shower, lust, oral sex, river view, sailboats, scenery, sex, shower sex, shower view, view

Good and Gone

Memories gently tugged down by gravity, like the last snowflakes that mark the end of storm.  Both grateful and wistful.  Both beloved and painful.  Never too far from the edges of my mind.  The voices of my past, and the memories of ghosts that reside there.

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Sinfire

Couple in sunset

The sound of the waves pounding the beach was a perfect backdrop for the night.  We watched the sun go down from our camp chairs, cold beer in one hand, plate of delicious campfire food on our laps, soaking up a relaxing moment after a busy day of activities.

We counted down as the last sliver of sun went into the ocean and I made the familiar hissing sound as I pictured it submerging beneath the waves, fiery rays temporarily quenched by cool water.  He smiled sideways at me – not the first time my child-like mannerisms had resulted in that grin.  We toasted each other over our beers and tucked into our food.  The long day spent together had inspired a multitude of appetites; we quenched the most urgent one first.

After dinner, we used the campfire to melt marshmallows, trading our sunset views for starry skies above.  The coastal night, often shrouded in clouds and whipped by cold wind, was surprisingly clear and temperate.  We took full advantage of nature’s gift, deciding that s’mores tasted best when eaten with a side order of Milky Way.

I rose to put my empty beer bottle by the truck, pausing on my way to lean down and kiss him.  He responded eagerly, mouth teasing and tasting mine, hands roaming the curve of my ass as I bent forward to kiss him.  I pulled away, licking my lips, willing my body to slow down and not rush this rare, sensual moment.  I dropped the bottle by the truck and retrieved our campfire staple, a bottle of Sinfire.

I returned to my seat by the campfire, my legs grateful for the temporary reprieve from the heat radiating off the fire.  I briefly contemplated cups and then decided against it.  I took a swig and passed him the bottle with a glint of mischief in my eye. He smiled and accepted the bottle, his finger tracing mine before grasping the neck and taking a long drink of his own.

The cinnamon fire on both our tongues, he rose from his chair, handed me back the bottle and wound a hand in my hair, gently tugging my head back to drop a sultry kiss on my tingling lips.  He moved around behind me, hands sliding down my chest to squeeze my breasts as his mouth drank its fill from mine.  I sighed against his lips as his fingers found my nipples and he teased them expertly before pinching them hard and drawing a gasp from me.

He chuckled, walked away to put away the last of the food, and returned shortly, kissing me again on his way back to his seat.  I waited for him to get settled, taking a few more sips of Sinfire.  The whiskey worked its way quickly through my body and coating me in warm lassitude that was only enhanced by the fire.  After a few minutes of conversation, I rose again.  It was time to act.

I bent forward over him, tracing his lips with my tongue, tasting the flavors of him even as my nose savored the scent of his skin.  My lips traced their way down his neck, nipping and biting at the skin as he once again filled his palms with my breasts.  I stood and pulled my shirt off, removing my bra and leaning back down and admiring the shadowy view of his mouth eagerly teasing my nipples to stiff attention.  I moaned softly, the pleasure of his hot mouth on my skin in beautiful contrast to the cool kiss of the slight ocean breeze.

Before I could take advantage of my free hands, his husky voice broke the silence between us.  “Take your pants off.”  It was a command, not a request, and my heart raced a little as I stood to comply.  I knew the beach was deserted, that we were the only ones camping out there on that perfect autumn night.  But I had a moment of trepidation, knowing that when naked, my body would be on display – aglow in the blazing light of the campfire.

The pounding of my heartbeat was merely an overture for the a more intense cadence I knew was coming.   His fingers traced my face and he pulled me down again to savor my kiss. I could feel the heat of the fire making my backside tingle.  He flicked his hands across my nipples before raising my breasts to his mouth and devouring them one by one.  He sighed happily and I echoed the sentiment.  He used his teeth with gradually increasing pressure and I felt the wetness begin to ooze out of me.

He released me long enough to pull his pants down, a sudden wave of desire making fully removing them far too much work.  I felt the pressure of his palms on my head and heard his husky voice tell me what he wanted next.

I obliged.

My lips were coated with salty-slick precum before I could even open my mouth to taste him. He traced his cock across my lips, pulling me suddenly up again to kiss me hard.  I felt my pussy twitch with anticipation as he drank his own essence from my mouth before shoving me back down.  I was ready and my hot, eager mouth enveloped him.  He groaned louder this time, muttering “Oh my god, that is so fucking hot.”  I glanced up to see him looking over my shoulder, taking in the sight of my body aglow in the firelight.

He stroked my skin, petting my hair reverently then assertively grasping a handful to steer my mouth.  He thrust his hips up to meet me, then suddenly commanded me to turn around and bend forward.

I stood and turned, the sand and alcohol making my feet clumsy.  I spread my legs, bending forward and secretly hoping the alcohol didn’t send me face-first into the campfire.  It would be just my luck that a fireside fuck would turn into an emergency room trip and second degree burns.

He held my hips steadying me and when he felt my hands grasp his ankles, he leaned forward and drove his tongue into my wet slit.  He traveled all across my body, tongue flicking around my ass, dipping lower to my dribbling pussy, across the soft skin of my thighs and ass cheeks.  He reached around me with his other hand, smearing my cream all over my clit and making my legs begin to shake.  He recognized the precariousness of the situation and opted for a safer thrill.

“Sit.”  He said.

I lowered myself onto his waiting cock, using the arm of the camp chair for balance and slid down on his swollen sex.  He marveled at the sensation of my fire-hot skin against him.  I started out of the gate like I was trying to win the derby, my pussy so hungry it was greedy.  He steadied me again, telling me to slow down.  I fought my animal urges and made my body listen.

The orgasm was building up inside me, threatening to make me scream right there in the middle of the beach.  Once again he came to my rescue.  “Come have a taste of that beautiful pussy.”  He told me.  I stood and turned, once again baring my tender parts to the heat of the fire.  I licked him eagerly, my citrusy juice on his cock one of the best flavors I had that night. I swallowed him deep, thrusting him into the back of my throat in quick deep thrusts.  He pulled me up again with a firm hand in my hair.  “Sit again.”

I obeyed, my pussy aching to be filled again.  I sat effortlessly, my hot skin once again igniting his as he drove up into me, countering my thrusts until I cried out, shaking from head to toe as my pussy grabbed him and pumped his cock like a fist.  His lips were on my back, tracing tongue and biting teeth as my body shuddered and my juices poured down his balls.

With a deep groan and a powerful thrust, he filled me with his cum.  I couldn’t help the laughter.  My body felt so amazing and the experience was so liberating.  The air on my skin, the sand between my toes and the heat of the fire on my body.   He wrapped his arms around me, his lips kissing my shoulder over and over as his cock softened inside me.  When I stood finally to retrieve my clothing, he slid back into his pants and watched me pull on my clothes.  His eyes shimmered in the firelight as I settled back into the camp chair next to him.

He gave me a wolfish grin and handed me the Sinfire.

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Killingsworth

I drove south on the freeway today, my mind turning to you as I passed it.  The Killingsworth Exit.  The exit that once led me to your door.

There was a time when driving past that exit would require a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel to keep the tears at bay.  Now, there is no extraordinary grip required.  There was a time when the wounds were fresh, still bleeding freely and refusing to heal. They are but scars now.  The faint lines across my soul where it was once torn. 

There was a time when the mere act of passing the exit would send me reeling backward in time; back to stolen moments spent with you – laughing, sharing music, doing that anticipatory little dance in the kitchen before our mouths invariably met, melded and yielded all the sensual fruits we craved. 

They were stolen moments.  As surely as if we had snatched them from the shelf of the local convenience mart and furtively shoved them in our pockets, those days and nights together were purloined goods.  They were moments that never should have been ours in the first place.  Maybe that is why they felt so thrilling, tasted so unbelievably sweet.  Maybe that is why there was such an empty hole left behind when they were gone. 

I think about you from time to time.  When I do, I feel no anger or bitterness swelling up inside me.  I no longer feel the stabbing pain in my gut as the thought pierces me over and over:  Why?

Now, when my thoughts turn to you they are simple.  Are you happy?  Do you spend your weekends with your daughter as you dreamed?  Do you thrive in your job and have you set roots down in your new home?  Have you decorated your home and what car did you replace the Pearl with? Do you grill flank steak and drink Iron Horse? Do you listen to Mule? Do you sleep well at night, knowing you are writing the chapter in your story you wanted?  And sometimes I even wonder, do you ever think of me?

I don’t have any answers.  That once drove me nearly mad – the lack of answers and the endless swirling questions.  But like a tornado in my heart, the winds have died down.  That funnel of wind, fueled by grief and silence, fed by the unknown and unattainable has faded.  I won’t say my soul is at peace.  That would be stretching the truth too far.  But I will say that storm within has passed. 

Now, when my thoughts turn to you as I drive past the Killingsworth sign, I raise my eyes momentarily to the clouds above and say a prayer that you are well.  I pray you are whole and thriving, that your world is everything you wanted it to be.  I wish you well and even if you don’t want it any longer, I feel the ties of friendship that for me, were never severed. 

And I keep on driving. 

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2014 VagFest: A Festival of Vaginas

I was scrolling down the event calendar for our local convention center this evening when I came across an event that, to my mind, was long overdue:  2014 VagFest.

An entire festival dedicated to vaginas? My eyes sparkled as I considered the possibilities.  Grooming demonstrations (how to treat/avoid razor burn and ingrown hairs in delicate areas); erotic art displays; toys and lubes; scents and flavors to make even the most mundane vagina beguiling.  Anatomy lessons for those unfortunate souls who haven’t yet stumbled across their G-spot; group discussions on how to get the most pleasure out of every penis; exercise seminars to tighten and firm those most special muscle groups post child-birth and beyond.  That would be a valuable and popular seminar.  (Nothing intrigues a woman with three kids more than having a twat tighter than a 17 year old cheerleader.)

The smile spread like warm sunshine across my face as I began to feel at home in this imaginary, labial world.  I imagined a special area where men could also browse, learn and discover the secret world where men love, yet fear, to go.  Seminars designed to help them not feel threatened by the 11-inch black vibrator in their partner’s nightstand drawer.  Advice on how to navigate the menstrual cycle without having to skip the fun stuff.  A medical booth where embarrassing questions could be asked and strange pustules examined in anonymity by clinical professionals.  A homeopathic remedy booth nearby where women could purchase creams and tinctures that would make their nether parts smell like an herb garden. 

As I gazed off into the distance, my face lifted up in supplicant bliss at the notion that the vagina could be celebrated at level worthy of its own festival, I glanced back at my computer screen to make sure I was not dreaming. 

And that is when I read the event name again.  “2014 VegFest.” 

A festival of vegetables and not vaginas?

My shoulders slid into a destitute slump as the air left me in a dejected whoosh. 

Damn those organic farmers. They have all the fun.

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Filed under Erotica

“You Ok?”

You affect me. 

Make no mistake about it.  You cause a chemical reaction in my body that is virtually impossible to ignore. 

When you touch me, my skin sparkles with electricity.  Your palm against my back, fingers tracing me softly, wrecks me in a way that no one else can. 

To hold back those urges takes an iron grip of determination I was not sure I had within me.  Not until that resolve was tested tonight.

Your hand against my leg, fingers tracing a distracting pattern against the inside of my knee made it hard to track the plot of a movie I’ve seen a hundred times.  Your fingers laced through mine warmed me like liquid honey. 

I knew the kiss was coming.  But still wasn’t prepared.  Your lips brushing mine in that familiar, hungry pattern and my resolve was rocked to the foundation.  I breathed in as I kissed you back, the sensual concert of touch, taste and scent turning my core to molten desire that was almost more than I could bear. 

You brought tears to my eyes.  A sudden rush of emotion so strong that my eyes leaked from the pure awesome power of it.

Did you feel it? Did you feel that wave of emotion?

Or did you just feel me pull away? Did you sense my uncertainty, my restraint as I forced my lips to cease their movements and retreat from the moist invitation of yours?

You noticed something.  Something about that moment made you pause and utter two words: 

“You ok?”

I’m fine.  I’m just fine.

I’m just swimming in tidal wave of physical desire and emotional vulnerability.  I’m just battling with myself to make the healthy choice, the one I know is right for me in this moment. 

Yes I have the strength to resist you.  But not without paying a hefty price. 

I sent you home tonight.  I sent you home without that devilish moment of delight when I lap up essence from your cock.  I returned you to your own bed instead of welcoming you into mine. 

I held my ground. In spite of absurd, painful temptation. 

I don’t know if you could see, feel or sense it. 

So I’m here to tell you that – without a doubt – you continue to entice me.

You affect me still.

 

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Filed under Erotica