I’ve done other photos in these pajamas for the February PhotoFest. This was my favorite, so saved for Sinful Sunday.
She expected someone Latino but he was Asian. That was her first thought. The second was that he was very broad shouldered and taller than most Asians. So much for great eye candy, she was hoping for a suave Latino.
Oh my, but then he danced. The instructors paired up together to demonstrate the Cha-Cha, and she wanted to be the woman in his arms so badly all the sudden, to have his hand guiding her across the floor, to be gazing into his eyes with so much passion, to swirl and shimmy her body around his sexy form. Fuck, she wanted him in the worst way.
She had watched a lot of Cha-Cha videos before deciding to take a dance class. It was approaching summer and she figured that the exercise, confidence in learning a new skill, and ability to dance would make her hot and sultry like the approaching nights. She was already pretty confident in walking in high heels, a necessity it seemed for dancing from all the videos she watched. Once the blisters healed and the shoes were broken in, she concentrated on finding a few sexy dresses that twirled around her knees and drew attention to her fantastic legs in the heels.
She loved how the women in the videos looked while dancing, so strong and self-assured. She was determined to be the same.
But in all the videos, she wasn’t drawn towards the men like this instructor. When the instructors finished the routines, they began pairing up the couples; she prayed silently that she would be paired with him. Yes! She was, and she fairly tripped over her own heels trying to get her legs out from under her body fast enough to stand and join him on the floor.
He was so near, and she felt as hot as she would on a summer day at noon. Beads of sweat would cling like shiny jewels down the sides of her neck, make her hair curl seductively against her skin, maker her small, tight shirt a necessity for her glistening cleavage. He would take an ice cube and delicately trace the hollows of her neck and collarbone with the contrasting cold sensation to his hot concentration.
Back at the studio, however, the woman called out a step and showed how to do it, then instructed the couples to follow. She stared at her feet and willed them to obey, to magically move smoothly as the woman’s.
Santana’s Smooth played softly in the background, and she pictured this man with her under a full moon, with the song playing from a nearby beach bar on one side and the crashing waves of the ocean on the other side, them gliding sensually across the sand in a taunting tease of dance, eye fucking each other with the promise that it would move beyond looks soon.
Snapped out her reverie, the couples began to move and she felt awkward but determined as she followed the steps, knowing her body bounced a bit too much, more focused on what to do next than eye fucking the sexy man across from her. He put his hand on her arm and whispered encouragement to her, and she felt the tension melt, felt the females tune into his soft but assured voice and felt possessive and grateful that she was chosen to his partner.
She willed his hand to stroke her skin, and gazed into his dark, mesmerizing eyes. Could he sense her desire for him? She clenched in excitement that maybe he could. Maybe he would softly stroke her arm and then suddenly grip the upper part and pull her forcefully against his chest, her hand on his chest in mock protest. She would feel his heart beat, his heat and passion for her, be so close to his body that she would be overwhelmed by his smell and presence, then push against him, her leg solid as it stepped back, but he would grab her hand and pull her into him again, this time with her back against his chest, her hips tucked tightly against his pelvis, their bodies melding together and his hardened cock pressed firmly between her cheeks with their clothing doing little as a barrier. She would drape an arm behind him to around his neck, and their hips would dip and swing – a perfect excuse for him to press himself even more prominently into her cheeks, making her ache and drip for him.
“Excuse me…” he interrupted her fantasy. She realized that the woman had explained another step, and that the couples were already moving. Give her any downtime and instead of watching and she day dreamed, she guessed. He showed her the step. She gulped down the panic of learning another new step, squared her shoulders, peeked up at his handsome self from the comforting floor. He winked. Oh lord! She tried to not beam so much in a nervous and excited smile and stared at her feet.
One step at a time. She had this!
And if she had her way, she’d have a new man with the most gorgeously dark almond eyes guiding her across the dance floor this summer!
Submitted for Charlie’s Ultimate Summer Playlist Competition
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I get soaking wet,
Just thinking of you.
While it’s corny, is the first thing that popped into mind when reading the prompt about roses. I started trying to think of a steamy scene on a bed of roses. Roses are always supposed to be the ultimate romantic symbol. Honestly though, in most of our lives, the most common use of roses is that of the poem format. Silly little jokes or love notes left between lovers. I love these. It’s simple, a bit creative, and a nice little way of saying “I’m thinking about you”…
I’m so thrilled, and want to thank three awesome bloggers for this nomination.
Kinky Biker Mom – whom I’ve really watched grow in blogging.
Kilted Wookie – the avatar alone makes me smile, and the pictures are sexy.
Naughty Corner – a fantastic color for the blog (I’m partial to purple), and though I don’t review toys, I feel like we have common interests.
I’m going to combine similar questions.
1. Blogging: why do it and has it changed, how did we decide on the persona, and did I ever see myself as a sex blogger?
Though I had never viewed myself as a blogger, or even a sex blogger (it was the most challenging to write for me), I had challenged myself to write erotica every so often (my sister had already written several pieces as well). Also, I wanted to not feel so alone on my viewpoints regarding sex, but I was scared to tackle a blog alone so talked my sister into joining this venture. It was a way to give me a sense of connecting with others. I was reading the same bloggers I now consider my own community. It is these people that keep me blogging, that encourage me to explore this whole experience.
What is truly unique about this blog is that we really are two sisters sharing a blog. We started it off with a unique focus on having relationships with military men (because those are challenging circumstances to have any relationship in). This isn’t a role we show others, and I do know of some bloggers who feel that they become their persona. M is part of my name, and I felt it was easy to associate me as being the Married One. I am truly, horribly, wonderfully focused on my sex life; I have an amazing married sex life; I am exploring more and more of my sexuality (both with and without my husband). If you were to meet me in person, I am not much different; if you were to see me interacting with my husband, you could completely picture these stories of our banter and power dynamics – because they aren’t stories.
2. Blogging: goals and favorite part?
I have so many goals, some very specific to the blog: right now I have 25 goals related to the blog, some I’ve already reached. In the beginning, it was just to share and be heard. I feel like this blog is a success, but it is through a lot of research, reaching out, and consistent dedication of time. All worth it, by the way; I feel very proud and protective of this space (kind of like my baby).
My favorite parts of blogging: stress relief – it gives me something to put my energy towards; connection and communication to the community, creativity and challenges, comments (seriously, I wouldn’t be writing still if I didn’t receive any comments).
3. Blogging Inspiration: first post and inspiration from others?
Our first post was one that A had already written years prior. She’s so very talented, and often experiencing that new and glorious desire for others. She had lost that poem, but I had kept it, so suggested that it should be first up.
Inspiration from others are going to be my seven nominees:
4. Blogging: how has it influenced and what has it taught me? How did it influence my kink?
Blogging has influenced my writing by writing more sexy words that I used to avoid (such as cunt, cock, etc), and it has taught me to write for an audience and a deadline. It has seriously influenced my kink as I read to support other bloggers, and get intrigued with what I am reading, then approach my husband with an idea to try it. I also shyly point him towards others writings if it got me hot, so that he can read and have a better understanding of what turns me on – or what I am in the mood for that day. Every time I experience something new, I immediately think to write it; every time something looks amazing, I want him to take a photo so that I can use it here later. I’ve tried a lot of new things since becoming a blogger.
5. Bloggers and real people: how many people know I blog (& discovered), what would I ask my favorite blogger, and what website do I most often visit?
Only a handful of friends know I blog and only a couple know the name of it; except Fetlife people, they all tend to know, but I’ve only met them recently so had been blogging for awhile. My sister obviously knows, and one other family member. No one has discovered me. I would ask Molly and Rebel (see above #1 and 2) how they ever find the time and the energy to be so amazing to everyone else, to upkeep their memes so well, and still manage to create such outstanding posts themselves. I visit their blogs most often.
6. Sex: toys, unfulfilled fantasy, lights on or off, and what am I wearing?
My favorite toy is the Lelo Soraya – I haven’t broke it yet (a record) and it’s easy and effective to use.
The lights are on, but dimmed, as orgasms and bright lights just don’t mix well with me.
I’m naked when I sleep, the most I can handle wearing is a large t-shirt.
7. Cool randomness: favorite superhero, what I want to be when I grow up, and most important thing people should know?
My favorite superhero would have to be anyone in the military – as they get paid little, sacrifice a personal life, and go off to work with their life at risk; I would never want to be them. A superhero I would want to be is Rogue, as then I could borrow superpowers from anyone else and not have to make up my mind on what power I have (although the whole not touching another would be heartbreaking).
I am who I want to be when I grow up. Maybe have a physical trainer mentality and the fortune of the wealthy, but otherwise I’m pretty content.
What people should know is that only one part of my life is shown here, and while important, family is the utmost importance to me.
If any of my nominees are crazy enough to tackle this acknowledgment and spread the love (it helps me find new bloggers), your task is to copy the questions down below and put the banner on the top of your post:
1. Blogging: why do it and has the reason changed, how did you decide on the persona?
2. What is your favorite color and five color associations you have to it? (eg red: love, blood; blue: sad, ocean, etc.)
3. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
4. If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why?
5. Name five things that you are grateful for.
6. At what time in your recent past have you felt most passionate and alive?
7. What post that you wrote is your favorite? Why?
Braiden Everard was puzzled at the request, but agreed. After all, he had read all of her books – of course, even if he wasn’t a reader, there were few people who didn’t know who Mara Renae was. He wondered if she was a fan and sighed, hoped for intelligent conversation rather than gushing praise. Of course, he realized sheepishly, he was a big fan of hers.
And he was rather surprised that he arrived at the restaurant first, considering that she had requested to meet. He wasn’t used to waiting on anyone….story continued at a later date
**Inspired by Oleander’s Pick a Prompt contest. The prompt I chose is: “a middle aged writer seduces a celebrity”.
***Braiden and Mara both were sexy and risk conscious characters who ordered gluten-free items; he could be mostly as taboo as he wanted in the bedroom – she was even hoping for a few things, but gluten was a hard limit for her seriously quirky self.
2. What three things do you expect from a relationship with your child?
Slave labor, immediate results…oh wait, I’m starting to name things that they expect from me.
Communication, bonding, and patience.
3. How do you mend a broken heart?
With chocolate, alcohol, friends, and sex
4. What is your favorite therapy (remedial treatment of mental or bodily disorder)?
Yoga and mediation if we aren’t counting sex. Seriously, sex cures all. But yoga is pretty awesome too!
Unhealthy ways I create empty-therapy is food and retail therapy – only helps for the immediate moments that I am engaging in it, and then I feel worse.
5. Who in your life has an annoying habit? How do you deal with this?
I annoy myself the most, honestly; I want things done immediately and the way I envision it. Secondly, it would probably be my middle kid with whining and the stubborn insistence to be miserable – seriously this kid thrives in being miserable, I don’t get it and I feel bad that they create such an environment to immerse in.
6. In five words, describe yourself. You cannot use the following words: funny, fun, nice, kind, responsible.
Curious, adventurous, bookish, average, insatiable.
Bonus: If in a long time, romantic relationship do you still flirt? How do you flirt with your significant other?
Apparently I do still flirt. (A describes my flirting in a post.) Honestly, I am unaware of it the majority of the time, unless I find myself describing in detail how I envision myself having sex with someone else, then I realize that this could be perceived as flirting. I’m a notorious lap hopper, and I tend to compliment people if I notice something positive – this is often perceived as flirting. …Wait, was this first question about flirting with others? Because that’s how I answered it.
(Case in point: I just looked at my texts messages and within minutes: suggested a payment plan for helping a friend move; and asked another friend if they wanted to squish their parts to my parts…I don’t consider this flirting, this is just casual conversation to me, but apparently others who don’t know me as well may consider this flirting.)
With my husband, I am just blunt of what he does to me, what I want him to do to me, what I want to do to him. I often throw myself forcefully on top of his body (he’s a big guy, he can handle it), and start making out with him. He’s delicious.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!
Happy TMI Tuesday!
Photo courtesy of Exposing 40
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He told me no to sex. I was a bit taken aback – I had expressed it was a hard day for me and I was emotional, and yet when it was time to go to bed, he told me he wasn’t coming to bed with me and wasn’t “tucking me in”- our code in front of kids for when he gives me sex and then leaves me to sleep while he stays up for a bit longer.
A couple of hours later, I texted him that I wanted sex, and that I was willing to pay for it. The last part was for playfulness, but I thought it would intrigue him. It did. He came into the bedroom a minute later and asked how I planned on paying, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes evident even with the dim lighting from my nightstand.
He was so tall standing there in the doorway. His head was just below the door frame, his broad shoulders nearly taking up the width of the opening. He was shirtless and still wearing his uniform pants. His body tapered to that V that men so often hope to achieve – that his body just seemed to naturally do.
He took my breath away and made my body quicken that years of marriage have not dulled.
I smiled at him and he closed the door, slid into bed beside me, still kept on his pants. I rolled over onto my side and my hand stroked up and down his chest.
“A kiss?” I offered, knowing that the answer would be denied as payment but leaned in and kissed him anyhow. His lips were so incredibly soft and plump against my own.
He smiled after the kiss. “Yes, that’s great and all, but I want actual payment. How will you paying me?”
My smile grew bigger. “Do you take credit cards?”
He chuckled. “I actually do.” I leaned in for another kiss but his hand pushed me away from him. “Payment first,” he insisted. I rolled my eyes as I rolled out of bed, and went to a dresser drawer where I kept some cash. I pulled a bill out, hoped it was small, and pressed into his hand as I leaned in for another kiss. After the kiss, he looked at the $20 in his hand and again laughed. “What do you suppose this will get you? Surely I’m worth more.”
I chuckled. “That remains to be seen. So far, nope, that’s about it.” His eyes widened at my sass. “Besides which, I believe that you get paid after services rendered.”
“I don’t think so,” he said softly and placed the money in my hand. “Go do better. I’m worth it.”
I sighed and fetched some more money, totaling a couple hundred dollars, pressed it in his hand the same way while I pressed my advantage with another kiss. After the kiss, I looked across his smooth expanse of chest to the money he gripped in his hand opposite me, took in the sight of his uniform pants still on, and decided I quite liked the look of it, but one thing needed to change. “Now get naked, I need to see what goods I’m getting for my money,” I demanded.
“I don’t think so, I think it’s a fuck-you-with-my-pants-on, kind of night.” I was indignant yet I clenched in anticipation of any type of fucking, of the promise of dominance that his tone held in those words.
“No way. I paid for you, I get to see you.”
I went to reach into his pants to feel him and his hand quickly encircled my wrist and pulled me back, his body rotated above and onto me. His uniform pants were rough between my naked thighs. He pinned my other wrist and leaned down to kiss my neck. “My pimp didn’t negotiate my being fully naked. Be grateful you have my shirt off,” he growled into my ear and nipped at my neck. I shivered at the tiny goosebumps that appeared all over me. He positioned both my wrists to be gripped by one hand, the other hand moved lower to finger me to an orgasm.
“Naked was most certainly negotiated with your pimp,” I insisted after I caught my thoughts again.
“Oh yes? And what else was negotiated. Just an orgasm? Because if so, I’m done here.” He looked down at me, a soft smile played about his lips.
“Certainly not! I paid good money, and not for just one orgasm by fingering. I believe I paid for sex, and multiple orgasms. You better deliver.”
He chuckled and released my wrists, leaned back on his knees between my legs. “Well if it’s just a fucking, hand me the lube and we’ll get right to it. And that fingering will cost you extra.”
“Ha! I don’t think so. And take off your pants, I want to see what I bought.” It occurred to me that I had no idea where the money was.
He moved off the bed swiftly, pulled me to where my head hung off the side of the bed. That command did earn me his pants off, but it was to slide them down just enough so that he could slide his length into my mouth. He leaned forward and fingered me to another orgasm while I (finally) deep throated his entire length.
With amazing skills like that, he should have been paying me.
We were both pretty impressed with my feat of deep throating, so much so that he took off his pants fully and fucked me senseless, reminded me that he was working for his money. I muttered a sleepy “worth every cent” comment as I drifted to sleep in his arms.
I’ll be a repeat customer.
Shared on Twitter:
Just paid my husband for sex. Told him his services better be damn worth it, kind of sexy to see him holding cash & the expectation of sex-M
It’s that time again: time to challenge me to learn how to use my Photoshop (I rarely do and it’s mostly because I get frustrated in learning). I actually really like how the prompts force me to learn, one small step at a time.
And of course in learning, I come up with some new favorite photos.