Category Archives: Love Notes

Now, now.

There are times when we all need a break. 

A break from someone, something, someplace.  A time to just sit in the silence, cry the tears, feel that moment when you are truly alone.  It doesn’t have to be depressing or dark.  Though often, it is.  It can be gratifying, rejuvenating.  The dormant period in nature is really just a time for gathering strength for the sudden burst of spring.  But try telling that to the tiny seed freezing its ass off in the soil.  The tiny seed who feels only the dark, cold earth around it and has no sense of what it means to be warmed in the sun.

I took a break from him.  The lone man who has touched both my body and my heart.  I took a break from him.  The other man, who claims my soul in a way no other has ever done.  I took a break from him.  The man who claimed me as his wife.  I took a break from the others.  The ones who filled the quiet with their electronic noise – my favorite little pacifier.  I took a break from the zipless fucks and their lusty texts.  I simply…logged off.

I have a tendency to retreat when I am struggling.  It is a kind of defense mechanism I guess.  I pull in, like a snail being poked by an inquisitive finger.  Deep into my shell I go, until I feel strong enough, centered enough to peek out and face the world again.  Right now, I just want to survive the next twenty-four hours.  If I do that often enough, I stand a chance I’ll make it through the week, the month, the summer, the year.  Somewhere along the way, the soil surrounding me will release its icy grip and wrap me in a warm blanket of sunshine.  And then we will see what kind of flower this seed will grow. 

I can’t think too far into the future.  I can’t anticipate the twists and turns.  I am too exhausted to try.  I am too busy trying to stay alive in the dirt to worry about what is happening above.  Will I go back? I don’t know and at this point, I don’t care to hazard guesses.  The future will take care of itself.  To quote a favorite movie, “We’re at now, now.”

 

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Author’s Note: The Fickle Vagaries of Pussy

Friends and Followers of Pussy,

Writing, at times, can be a fickle mistress. In spite of the thousands of words at our disposal, sometimes as authors we fail to convey our message in a way that satisfies.

Take for example yesterday’s post, “Son and Consort.”  I have taken it back to the draft stage so that I can re-work it and hopefully, coax it into the form that I had envisioned when I sat down to write.  I hit publish a bit hastily – what can I say? Sometimes even I get a little eager for the Pussy.

A trusted friend assured me that, while a jarring left turn in subject matter ensued, I did not cross the boundary into Creepyville.  Not that it would have been the first time (anyone remember “Security”?) but let’s say there are certain junctions in Creepyville even this train doesn’t want to stop at.

So hang in there friends and be patient.  Sometimes the Pussy needs some gentle stroking and a bit of probing before she gives up her secrets.

Moistly yours,

CJ

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Look Out Cupid…

Valentine Panties

Look out, Cupid, you fat little fuck.  I am coming for you!!!

Happy Valentine’s Day my lovelies. 

xxo Pussy

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Longing

I yearn for you.

My body swells at the thought of you; blood rushing to delicate places, heartbeat racing in my ear.

You ignite me.  Like a flame to dry tinder you set me ablaze in seconds. With a smile, with a look, with a word.

But your distance keeps you from the warm, sensual circle of my arms.  Your distance separates you from the hot longing that flows from me like salty rain.  You may be aware of my desire, or you may not.  But I can assure you, darling, it is there.  Like the sunrise, like the return of the moon every 28 days, my desire is ever-present.

I cannot slake this thirst.  I am not able to drive away this need.  The need for your body; your strong hands on my skin, your mouth in my moist, secret places.  This need will surely drive me mad.

Where are you my lover?

And why have you left me alone in this dark spiral of lust?  Without light, without touch, I am alone in a prison cell that has no walls.  Just skin and bones, muscle and sinew, and longing so vast it rivals the sea.

Please my lover, my lord, my one and only.   Won’t you please come set me free?

 

 

 

 

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Chasing Mischief

Religious people say that messages from God are everywhere; they can pop up at any time in any place.  Once you have opened your heart and mind to the messages, they suddenly appear, like a 3D image in a picture – one moment you see only dots, the next an entire portrait is clear as day.

The same thing holds true of Mischief.  Once you know what you are looking for, Mischief springs from virtually every corner of the landscape around you.

Take, for example, a call from a telemarketer.  At first blush, such a call is little more than a nuisance.  Yet when you are on the hunt for Mischief, this ubiquitous event transforms from nuisance into opportunity.

It snowed here Frida and I stayed home from work unwilling to make the treacherous drive.  As I sat with my morning coffee and contemplation I realized that it was a perfect day to enjoy an orgasm.  Not just any orgasm, but a Friday-During-Business-Hours orgasm.  A personal favorite.  While in the middle of this mini-celebration, I was interrupted by my telephone ringing.

Normally, I do not answer phones during moments of sensual distraction.  But today, I was on the look-out for Mischief.  And more than once in my dubious past, Mischief has begun with a ringing phone.  So naturally I answered, sounding a little breathless, my voice more husky than normal.

“Good Afternoon, Ma’am,” a friendly male voice intoned.

In the background I could hear the familiar buzz of a call center, complete with fingers clacking over keyboards.  I turned off my vibrator, resting it’s warm, wet tip against my thigh as I focused on the man’s voice.  It was deep with a velvety edge that I suspected could turn into a growl given the right inspiration.

“My name is Jason and  I’m calling from Comcast Cable to share some exciting news about recent upgrades to our Xfinity service.”

“Really?” I said, a smile spreading across my lips as I pictured Jason’s hard cock, idly guessing his girth while tracing my nipples.   “I’d love to hear about your service, Jason.”  My voice purred a bit and my smile widened.

There was a moment’s pause, “Okay!”  Jason said cheerfully, clearly having decided he misunderstood the intent behind my words.  “Well as you may know Comcast has spent over one million dollars upgrading their infrastructure in order to bring you, our valued customer, a more reliable Comcast experience.”

“What did you do?” I interrupted, my voice taking on a breathy quality as I plucked my nipples harder.

Another pause as Jason listened for a moment.  I took advantage and gasped lightly as I twisted my left nipple.  “We, uh, built a new tower.”  I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You did?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat as I raked my nails up my inner thighs.  “How big?”

My breathing was now growing erratic and I made no secret of that fact.  Jason lowered his voice a pitch and I envisioned him leaning in toward his computer screen, cupping his headset closer to his ear.  “How big what?”  He asked me dumbly.

I laughed, the sound a rich, velvet chuckle from the back of my throat.  “How big is your tower, Jason?”  I flicked my fingers across my clit as I asked the question, my voice trembled.  The sound of his surprised, gasp filled my ears, followed quickly by a laugh of his own.  Then I heard it:  that gravelly edge.  My pussy spasmed uncontrollably and within seconds I had my vibrator in hand.

“It’s a pretty good-sized tower.” Jason replied a tinge of flirtation in his tone.

“Will it help me stream my porn faster?” I clicked to the second speed.

“Ummm…yeah.” Jason laughed nervously, the sound cutting off as I held the vibrator near the mouthpiece of the phone.  I slid the vibrator into my mouth, licking the tip and sucking gently, making sure he heard every sound.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line.

“Jason,” I said, moistening the vibrator as I spoke.  “Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice dropping lower still, “I believe I do.”

“Good.” I answered softly as I felt the wetness dribbling down over my ass.  “Do you want to hear me fuck myself until I cum, Jason?”

“In the worst way, ma’am.”  Jason answered raggedly and I suddenly wished like hell I could see the excitement of this unexpected moment blooming in his eyes.

That was all the encouragement I needed.  I clicked it up to the third speed and plunged the vibrator into my soaked slit in one smooth stroke, gasping and arching my back as the buzzing toy sank hilt-deep inside me.

“Oh my god…” Jason’s voice was lost as the phone fell onto the bed beside me.  I grabbed the hilt of the vibrator, pulling back and plunging deep again. My fingers ran furious circles over my clit and I could feel the explosion building inside me with alarming speed.  I thrust harder, crying out so my friendly Comcast telemarketer would not be left out of the fun.

“You hear how wet that pussy is, Jason?” I thrust deep again, pulling out and thrusting hard, “Do you like it when I fuck my pussy hard for you?”  His muffled reply spurred me on and I gave myself over with abandon; thrusting hard and deep, bringing myself to the edge of crescendo.  I could not hold it back – this orgasm had been building since before my phone rang and there was simply no stopping this beast now.

“I’m going to cum for you baby, are you ready for this?”  My words barely out of my mouth and the first waves grabbed my body, arching me up and shaking me violently.  I cried out as the liquid shot across my sheets.  I shuddered and struggled for breath, the inevitable laughter immediately following.   I clicked off the vibrator and removed it with a sucking tug.  I grabbed up the receiver again, my hand shaking.

“So, Jason,” I panted casually into the receiver, lapping my juices noisily off my toy, “Is that you wanted to do? Tell me about your million dollar tower?”

There was a long pause.  “Yes, ma’am.”  I heard his fingers clicking on the keyboard.  He didn’t speak, just typed.  I waited patiently, setting my cleaned toy down on the bed.

“Ma’am, I want to personally thank you for being such an excellent Comcast customer.  I’ve just credited your account for six months of free Xfinity internet service.   Thank you for your time and you have an excellent rest of your day.”  Jason’s voice was smiling again.

“Gosh, Jason,” I said, momentarily caught off guard.  “Thanks.”

“No,” his deep voice took on that hard steel edge and my pussy began moistening again.  “Thank you.

Six months free internet and an orgasm? Not a bad day’s Mischief if you ask me.

😉

 

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Morning Coffee and Thoughts About Sex

He was supposed to visit today but had to cancel due to weather.  I was primed and ready, my body tingling with a hunger that needed – that still needs – to be filled.  I had been looking forward to seeing him all week.  Looking forward to what was sure to be that blissful pinnacle, the moment when I would finally feel his thick cock stretching me, driving into my body.  Damn.

I poured my morning coffee, the early morning air cold against my bare legs, and wondered how I could possibly fill the ache within me.  I certainly had options, but they all lacked the one thing I was really craving: human touch.  I could run my hands all over my own body, I could pleasure myself 15 different ways.  But there was nothing that could reenact the bliss of a another person’s hands on my body.  Fuck.

Sure I could whip out the medicine ball, slide Bessie (my favorite pink g-spot vibe) into my slick, tight body.  I could roll my hips, bounce a bit, each rise and fall driving Bessie deep up inside me.  It wouldn’t take long like that.  A bit of that action and I’d be cumming hard in a matter of minutes.  Sometimes, I like to draw it out a bit, laying Bessie on her side, bent tip up and nestled against my clit.  I rub and roll, grinding my hips in a figure eight while I play with ample tits.  The ball allows me a wider range of motion, rolling forward and back, feeling that vibrating nub from clit to ass and back again.  Nothing to complain about there…

But it wouldn’t be strong male hands on my body.  It wouldn’t be a warm, throbbing cock inside me.  Yes, the end result is the same.  But one is intimate, passionate, connected. The other is just me, doing filthy things to a piece of exercise equipment.

I sipped my coffee, deep in thought.  As the morning light brightened the white landscape outside my window, the light of inspiration slowly awakened inside me.

CJ, I said to myself, you have a hell of an opportunity here.  A perfect excuse.  A day to yourself.  No distractions, no obligations, no reason to leave your apartment.  Everything you need is here, music, food, fresh batteries, the laptop, coffee and a mischievous intent.  What more do you really need on a snowy Friday?

So my salacious friends, stay tuned.  I will report back after my day of mischief is complete…

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A Little Tease…

So there is this little thing that has been going on for some time now between yours truly and a fellow WordPressian.  You might call it a bit of a fling; an affair of words, if you will.

You see, it all started with a little word exchange in a comment thread.  As you all know, words are indeed powerful weapons.  Suffice to say this fellow blogger is armed with words of significant length and dimension and uses his, ahem, weapons very well.  😉

So today someone threw down the gauntlet.  Not a battle, not a war of words to see which one of us could verbally dominate the other.  Oh no, a challenge of a much more insidious nature:  A collaborative writing effort.

Oh CJ, you did not just go there??!!   Oh my heavens, no!  CJ would never do that.

Pussy on the other hand…

Oh yes, my sweet, sex-starved readers, Pussy did.   Not only did she go there, she texted me a picture of her standing next to the “Welcome” sign and stopped for burgers, fries and jell-o shots at the favorite local watering hole.

Now my faithful followers, you get to sit back and witness the chaos that ensues when an impertinent Pussy paints CJ into a corner.

What was that? Oh, Who? You want to know who the (un)lucky fellow is?

Stay tuned my beloveds…

 

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Insomniac’s Lament

The fog is gathering outside the bedroom window of my apartment.  A nearby traffic light splashes colors in sequence on my bedroom wall, red, green, yellow, red.  I should be sleeping but the oblivion of sleep is not mine to be had on this cold night.  I am being kept awake by the clanging of memories in my head.

Moments from a not-too-distant past come back to me, tiny snippets return home to nest in my mind.  The sound of your laugh. The feel of your long fingers as they touched my face.  I still sigh when I think of your touch.  The only person I have ever known who could make me feel fragile and beautiful, utterly revered, with simply a touch.

I find myself searching to recreate some of those moments.  A good meal, even better conversation and the story of my life spinning on the CD player.  Laughter and companionship.  Open wounds examined and analyzed,  carefully tended to and healed.  Freedom and expression.  Romance and redemption.  Rebirth.

I search in vain.

It is easy to go back in my mind, and paint over the painful parts.  To cover the awkward moments, ignore the signs and signals that you flashed along the way.  You left a bread-crumb trail for me to follow – and in my haste to reach you, in my rush to be by your side, I missed them all.

I see them now, thanks to the benefit of my old friend: 20/20 hindsight.  I hear the messages you carefully wove in your words; the cautions, the warnings that this was indeed a temporary state of bliss.  My foolish optimism knew no bounds and I hoped, I believed.  All the while, the realist in me knew that with each step, as it grew into something far beyond its humble beginnings, that it would not – it could not – last.

But when I close my eyes and rest my head on my pillow at night I can feel your hands on my face.  While it is the memory of your touch that haunts me, it is the friendship I miss the most.

You tried to tell me.  I just didn’t want to hear it.  There is no way this could have been a lasting thing.  Rebounds are like snowflakes – fragile, unique and never meant to stand the test of time.

 

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Pussy Progress Report – 12-14-13

Hi there my horny little readers,

Pussy here to just give you a little update.  CJ is much better, moving around and rehabilitating from her unfortunate injury.  At this point, the jury is still out on whether or not the mind-blowing orgasm that accompanied the strain was actually worth it, but hey, on the bright side she got a doctor’s note that gave her permission to stay in bed for a week and take narcotics.  I’m pretty sure there are at least one or two people out there who will have a pang of jealousy reading that.

Sad part? She’d rather be up and about, hauling a Christmas tree up to her new apartment, decorating with her Ella Fitzgerald playing, the smell of cinnamon and pine in her nose.  She’d rather be chatting with friends, shopping for surprises to delight her friends, close and far away, just to show them she is thinking about them.

Because she is.  She is thinking about her friends.  The ones who here came to her side and helped her to the emergency room.  The ones who braved icy roads to get her home and back to a safe place.  The ones who brought her healthy food and the ones who brought her naughty food.  The ones who reached out to make sure she was really okay, even the ones who just came to sit on the floor next to her bed for a while and keep her company.  Of all the medications and rehabilitation having been offered, those small connections with friends have proved to be the best medicine.

She is going to be fine.  CJ is a pretty tough cookie.  And just because she’s too incapacitated to lie in bed and type about the naughty thoughts she is having at the moment, trust me friends, she is having them and very much looking forward to sharing. 😉

And one day soon, that naughty girl will put away the Valium and Percoset and get back to delighting you readers.

And CJ has decided to add a new year’s resolution to her 2014:  More yoga classes so the next time she gets told to turn herself around and dp herself hard, she can oblige without a trip to urgent care.

Gotta have goals, right?

Stay wet friends,

Pussy

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A Pussy In Motion

Greetings to all my Pussy Pals, old and new! 

Just a quick and dirty love note to tell my friends that the Pugnacious Pussy has moved.  Not the blog site mind you, but the actual physical abode of the Puss.  The House of Pussy has a new address! (Nope, not gonna share it.  I’m not ready for visitors!)

So Pussy has been getting worn out and dirty (not like that you perverts!) and unpacking boxes, building furniture (who knew Pussy could operate tools that didn’t use batteries!)

There has been very little time to write.  So Pussy is going to share a little something from the Vagina Vault. 

Enjoy.

Be back soon friends with fresh, hot coffee in hand and fresh, hot stories to tell.

xxx

P

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