Apr 122017
 

“Play hard to get, remain silent, scared, and dramatically emotional,” Joy repeated to herself, closing the big red book of Fairy Tales upon her perch of the toadstool. She nodded to herself for extra measure, felt the breeze stir the fringes of her tutu skirt, rubbed her toes together for comfort, and laid the book beside her. She arched into the sunlight, welcomed the warming rays upon her bare arms and face, and closed her eyes, trying to remember the rest of what she’d learned about non humans trying to get humans to love them.

She’d like Beast’s methods best, but he was a male. She looked down at her breasts and giggled, nope…she just didn’t possess enough fur to carry it off and take the woman like he did. Besides, she had her sights set on a man. Of course, maybe men liked that sort, but her extensive research did not indicate that. She had read what men really liked.

He was long, but then again they all looked a bit long when one was tiny. He had the most beautiful garden, and seemed kind. She loved how what he was focused on reflected so beautifully on the lenses of his glasses. She hoped to be reflected there one day, with his luscious lips smiling at her in love.

She stood up, squared her shoulders, stretched her wings and let those embrace the breeze and sun before flitted to the nearby ground. She squinted her eyes and held her breath after casting, realized that wasn’t the most flattering, and forced herself to relax as all the fairies seemed to. Eloquence, grace, she repeated. A few seconds went by: a deep breath and her eyes opened to the grass so far below her she could barely distinguish the toadstool. She worried for the briefest of moments if she made herself too long, but worrying just wasn’t in her nature, so she shrugged and off she headed towards the man’s yard.

Not that Joy headed far, she simply stepped a few times, in awe of heavy she seemed against the earth, her feet slightly sinking in damp dirt, and reached for over the short gate to his gorgeous garden. A quick twist of the lock, a slight push of the creaky contraption, and she entered the path, immediately being surrounded by the lovely fragrance of roses and flowers. This was by far her favorite season, made her think of sex amid all the perfumed sweetness.

This year she was going to attempt a different type of sex, her family always did mention just how her curiosity got the better of her. It was such fun discovering new things. As she walked past the blooms, before she was already visible in the garden, she could already envision once he saw her he would stand up and gaze at her beauty. She would pretend to just notice him and turn back towards the bushes and climbing vines as if to seek shelter, but he would take her hand and guide into the sunshine in the center of his yard. She would smile coyly, a move she had been practicing, and would shyly kneel before him.

Men, she read, loved blow jobs, a sex called oral, and so he would be surprised when she kneeled in front of him but wouldn’t stop her. She would reach for his pants and pull out his penis. According to her reasearch, this was where individual preference mattered, so she would purse her lips and start blowing softly before she increased the intensity to hard blowing. She liked the breeze upon her wings, so she supposed a human male’s penis might appreciate the air she created across. Sucking she couldn’t imagine would create the same air stream, but supposedly that was important too, so she would suck in great lungful of air and would look up with him with eyes that looked like puppies and he would smile his appreciation at her gift, falling in love with her.

The tricky part was, according to the fairy tales, they would be married immediately but she didn’t want that part, only the falling in love and sex part; so she would have to run away once he proposed. But she would blow him a kiss behind her shoulder and wink to let him know there were no hard feelings, and try not to giggle (as was her nature) until she was once again in her natural form. (The tales also shared she would die a painful death if she didn’t succeed, but of course she would, she always did.)

Joy couldn’t wait to see the look on his face as she gave him what all men wanted so much they fell in love. She quickened her steps.
Wicked Wednesday

*Wicked Wednesday is on nature this week. Click to see what inspires others.

Jan 032017
 

happynewyear_gif

1. How is your year going?

My actual last year has been utter hell, the past three days of the year 2017 have been alright – mostly sleeping off time differences and jet lag. 
2. Did you go out on NYE or have a New Year’s day celebration?

Neither, though I guess you could consider I had a New Year’s day celebration. I grabbed all the kiddos in the family and gave them their Christmas presents and presents from my travels. Mr. Texas made a beautiful dinner and we had our first family holiday celebration. It was incredibly nice, even though I was exhausted from getting off a plane the night prior. 
3. Ahh yes, those pesky New Year’s Resolutions. How did you do with your 2016 NY resolutions–did you keep them?

Many of my 2016 goals were with my husband, who then divorced me at the start of the year. So no, I didn’t meet my goals but I’m uncaring of that. I don’t have any current goals – something that it is shocking if you know me at all. I suppose I should at least work on my 101 things
4. Year 2017, are you carrying over any resolutions from 2016? What?

My 101 things list is the only thing that I will carry over. However, hopefully I’ll feel more like myself and start making goals to accomplish again. 
5. What new experiences are you planning to have or hoping to have in 2017?

I am hoping to buy a house, apply for another Master’s Degree, go on a family vacation with Mr. Texas, go on a vacation with The Wanderer, survive the year, raise confident, independent, and healthy children. 

Bonus: Did you see fireworks on New Year’s eve? (Take that anyway you want :-p )

So many, at least in my mind. After not seeing Mr. Texas for weeks, he kept me awake and flying high on orgasms off and on for 18 hours. We really only slowed down when it was time for the family dinner and present time. 

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 to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Dec 192016
 
I wrote up something and then saw Rebel’s prompt, so thought I’d extend my original writing:
12 Gifts I’ve received this year from The Wanderer:
  1.  crop that scared me but ended up being very cool
  2.  hands that are so capable of the pleasure/pain I crave
  3.  beautiful purple rope that positively sparkles
  4.  an experience with clothespins that I still find hot
  5.  lobster lunch, a walk on the beach, and the considerate mannerisms that came from it
  6. an hour where I explored and rubbed and kissed and caressed my lover’s body
  7.  a playground with a gorgeous view for three days
  8.  sharing our times with words
  9.  knife to add to our growing collective pile of kinky times
  10.  candles to go along with the knife
  11.  texts messages to strengthen our relationship
  12. ORGASMS!!
12 Glorious moments this year with Mr. Texas: 
  1. corrupting a vanilla
  2. bruises and beatings
  3. patience, understanding, consideration
  4. having him accept me as I am
  5. painting the bedroom a color I love
  6. giving me sense of family with blending our kids
  7. rarely making coffee, and hot tub time every evening
  8. a high sex drive to match my own
  9. a person to fall asleep next to every night
  10. home made meals
  11. going to kink events with him
  12. ORGASMS!!
12 Reasons to be Grateful this year, despite how terrible it truly was:
  1. Family
  2. The two men mentioned here
  3. My children
  4. My brother in law for taking such good care of my sissy
  5. Friends
  6. Kink events
  7. Sex
  8. Kinky times in private (or sometimes semi-private)
  9. Commenters on here
  10. Having a space to vent/write/exhale/share
  11. A high paying job
  12. Surviving
12 Ways to move on in the next year: 
  1. Moving in with Mr. Texas
  2. Buying my own house for us
  3. Seeing The Wanderer again
  4. Pushing The Wanderer to go on a vacation with me
  5. Traveling
  6. Pursuing another Master’s Degree
  7. Yoga
  8. Dancing
  9. Getting my son on the ski slopes
  10. Visiting with friends and family
  11. Explore more kinks
  12. Experiences new experiences

*I don’t know if what I’m doing is polyamory, frankly I don’t see any need to put a title on it. Mr. Texas recently commented that it seems as though I am in a relationship with two, and indeed it does to me too, though perhaps in a different way than what he views. I just know that I am surviving this horrible year one day at a time, and sometimes one minute at a time.

I am grateful for everyone in my life, even the people here who read.

Rebel, especially: thank you for being my biggest supporter and always reassuring me on this space that I am allowed to be all the crazy things that I am and think. 

Happy Holidays! May your lists be grand, your body pleased, your heart full, and your soul hopeful. 

**Also written for Exhibit Unadorned’s Christmas prompts, set the song of “12 Days of Christmas”.

Wicked Wednesday

Apr 032016
 
b4
Some of my favorite things? Rope, suspension, sex, our amazing connection and exploration, his body.
I can continue the journey with the first few, the chapter is closed on the last two.
Sex in a suspension was something on my bucket list. About a month ago, I accomplished that goal.
We took a video as a parting gift, here is a still picture from the video.
Sinful Sunday
Dec 142015
 

Masturbation Monday Week 67

 

I stroke myself, slowly, feeling my shaft extend, harden, grow. I imagine how last Christmas your mouth enveloped my cock, lips parting and tongue exposed as you kneeled there. I fed you my excitement, inch by slow inch, into your hungry mouth. I thought it was a present at the time, this activity that you didn’t do very frequently, offering it so willingly on Christmas night.

Later, I would know how wet you were, how you were dripping in that moment. I grip my cock harder, almost too tightly, my hand going from base to head in a rhythm that makes me feel my balls tighten. My other hand slips down to caress them, to feel the change in sensation. I imagine how your greedy mouth closed down upon me, your tongue caressing the tip, delving and exploring the underside of my head, applying pressure as your lips slide down my shaft where my hand is now fully engaged. As my hand comes back up, I imagine it’s the back of your throat and I become almost painfully hard in my excitement.

I couldn’t believe you had let me go that far back at the time, now I realize the desperation that created that gift. You wanted me to give my pleasure in your mouth, to grow soft and grateful. I fell in love with you in that moment.

My hands become more aggressive on myself, I feel the buildup. Is it terrible that there are moments where I still crave that moment with you? Such a fool, that’s why I keep my distance.

As I feel myself pulsing and the peak of release, I see your face, feel you gag at the tip of my head. As my white cum shoots out and away from my body, I think of how you were oozing some other man’s cum from between your legs, how that is why you needed me to find my release in your mouth, because you were worried about what I would discover in your body.

*Written for Masturbation Monday and Christmas Erotica Prompt to the song, Last Christmas (Wham), a song of overcoming betrayal.

 Posted by at 6:24 am
Dec 122015
 

Santa Baby,

I’ve been a perfect angel this year. I think it’s time to start checking on the naughty list and give me a lover, extra goodies for you if he’s wrapped tightly and helpless on my floor when I see him, and he has a look to him that indicates the minute I unwrap him, he will bind me next. Based on my previous lovers, here’s a list of things you need find in him:

I like words most of all.

I like hints of what’s to come: how excited a partner is beforehand, how he is preparing, a suggestion of how I will be uncomfortable or enjoy it or both.

I like reassurance I am desired, that he finds pleasure in me, that I taste delicious, that I feel good, that he likes the way I smell, subtly sniffs his own fingers in remembrance of my passion…that I did good, that I am skilled.

I like being told what to do and how to do it, that I am helpless, powerless, that I have no control.

I like to know what he found pleasant about me or the scene, what was/is hot. I want to know what he felt or was thinking. I write about scenes or sex after the fact, having any sort of specific feedback is not only rare, it’s cherished by me because I will get to see his perspective.

I like to be pushed out of comfort zones but trusting that hard limits are respected.

I like when a partner can understand me, know when a groan is frustration or pain or pleasure, know that no doesn’t mean no – stop, know that I blush easily at certain things and what I will tolerate.

I like pleasure; I like orgasm control whether it’s a push for multiples beyond my pleas to stop or a teasing denial or a command to not climax despite wanting to.

I like pain, but only as an assistant to pleasure – a build up of mind games, a sensitive body, a sharpness at the height of orgasm.

Santa, you know who’s being naughty and nice; I’m trusting you to stuff my stocking just the way I like it.

Based on the song Santa Baby for Exhibit Unadorned’s Christmas Erotica Prompts.

 Posted by at 10:12 am
May 272015
 

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”…

And to me that’s better than an elaborate steamy scene in my imagination.
Wicked Wednesday

Feb 242015
 

I’ve been on a wide variety of dates, but have definitely gotten used to the typical dinner or drinks. It’s casual, it’s classic, and it works. Every once in awhile though, someone mixes it up, and it’s refreshing.

Then there was THIS date.

He asked to pick me up at my house. He agreed to my terms of no murdering either myself or my dogs, and, on most days, no murdering my roommate either. It was old fashioned and I was comfortable enough to agree. For some reason, I was also comfortable enough (which doesn’t happen often) to agree to fly blind on the date. It was a surprise, and I wasn’t to know. My birthday happened to be coming up within days, and he told me to be prepared for a little extra.

Typically on first dates these are no nos. It’s a recipe for disaster. Typically too though, men don’t ask to call you and TALK in the world of online dating. This one did. He arrived at my house at the appointed hour and not only was he more incredibly handsome than I could’ve hoped, he had red roses in his hand. I know people call it cliche, but the thing is, it isn’t anymore. Men don’t do that. It would be cliche if it happened all the time. He helped me put them in a vase and then we were off.

He opened my car door for me, and there on the seat was another red rose. Good Lord, this man was good! I was already impressed before by everything, but this definitely made me feel like I had made the right choice in letting him direct things. As we drove to the unknown location, the conversation was easy and warm. We pulled up to a shopping center, and I was still kind of confused as to what the plan was.

During the course of our phone conversations I had mentioned once that every year, I had a tradition of buying a new Christmas ornament. It’s a new memory for me, and I’m a girl who loves tradition.

So he took me to Hallmark to let me pick out an ornament, which he got for me.

Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up. I’d never be this good or creative at planning a date.

Next was sushi, also a brief mention. The man was attentive. He noticed that the dress I had on that night was one I’d worn in one if my profile pictures. He actively listened and was open about himself, even the flaws.

I love men. Like, manly men. The manlier the better. So after we looked over the menu and discussed what we’d each like, he ordered for me. My temperature rose. That was one of the most sexy things a man has done lately. It’s confident and manly and assertive, and just… swoon. He laughed when the sushi was too big to fit in my mouth, and made a show of covering his eyes to tease me as I tried to figure out how to look sexy while having rice try to store itself away in my cleavage.

Once dinner was over he grabbed the check before I could even glance at it, and firmly rejected my offer to split. He got my chair and helped me into my jacket- another check in the gentleman box. We got back in the car and there wasn’t a break in the easy conversations we were having. At this point I already thought this was a pretty amazing date and couldn’t wait to tell my best friend.

That’s when I discovered the date wasn’t over. Next on the agenda:

He drove around town so we could look at Christmas lights!

It’s the thoughtful, creative things that impress me, and whew, I don’t think this man could get more impressive.

Me being me, at this point I was ready to go rip his clothes off, but I behaved. It was easier because he was always the perfect gentlemen, while at the same time letting me know he thought I was incredibly sexy, beautiful, and awesome. The combination was wonderful, it lent itself to respect, but never a moment of “maybe he’s just not that into me”. During our discussions, I mentioned that I was kinda bummed that my house wasn’t really decorated for Christmas. I’d just moved recently and my decisions were buried behind a mountain of boxes. He then suggested, if I was open to another date, that he come to my house the next day, fish out the boxes, and help me decorate my house for Christmas.

After driving around for awhile he asked if I’d like to go home, if I’d like to hang out more, and where I’d be comfortable if I did. I agreed to go to his house because I was curious to see, after all, he’d seen mine. We picked out a Christmas movie to watch, continuing the theme of the date, and he popped it in. We sat on the couch and talked while it loaded and suddenly he said “You know, we’re not going to watch a movie. We’re going to sit and relax and talk, because I’m enjoying this and there’s no need for a movie for distraction.”

So we talked. And we talked, and we talked. Next thing you know it’s 2 am.

He kissed me and the spark was incredibly gratifying. I’m not going to lie, at this point I was so aroused my face was flushed. He rubbed my cheek and looked in my eyes and said, “I better get you home, because this has been amazing and it’s becoming really hard not to touch you.”

I wondered how anyone could be this charming, attractive, attentive, and creative all in one package. I’m not a girl who builds up unreasonable expectations, or at this point expectations at all, so I thought that even if this was the only date, it was absolutely amazing. He took me home and walked me to the door where he kissed me again, told me he absolutely couldn’t wait until he got to see me next time, and left me with a smile on my face that lasted the whole night and graced my face as I awoke the next day, eager for the next adventure.IMG_20150224_161338

February Photofest 2015
Wicked Wednesday

Jan 122015
 

Alice tried to remember who had given her the key…surely it could not have been her lover, Thomas, though the man’s words perfectly mimicked his voice. Whoever that man was gave her a choice to make, and Thomas never afforded her that luxury.

She pondered his statement of the key. “You are always free to not love me, and if ever you decide that you no longer love me, set yourself truly free and be gone. But if you love me, you will commit to me and hand me this key back, considering all your other freedoms mine. You will be present at all times for my desires, always within acquiescence access of whatever I decide to do to you.”

She felt herself shaking at the words, and forced herself to inhale – held for a feeling of control, exhaled and released her tension…well, most of it. She knew Thomas as a demanding lover, a commanding presence both in his professional and private life. She also knew he was perceptive and not unduly harsh – the latter a fact his household staff appreciated, the first they groaned at when everything was noticed when not done correctly. His praise was sparse, but when it came, it was so gloriously felt.

Alice did not want to think; she wanted to have this momentous decision taken from her. She did not relish the responsibility for her own possible demise. And she certainly didn’t want to admit that she was willing to sacrifice so much to another’s will.

Yet, she did love him, and she felt like she fully came alive under Thomas’ love. She knew he loved her, though those words were as rare as his praise. She fancied a quick daydream where he was pacing in his bedroom, awaiting her decision. Smiling, she shook her head a little at how preposterous that idea was, and found her feet moving of their own accord towards his room.

Nervously, her hands once again shaking, she knocked. She gripped the key so tightly in her fist she felt that she would cut herself on the metal, felt like the imprint would forever be there to be viewed whenever she uncurled her fingers and exposed her palm. When he granted permission to enter, she opened the door a little too vigorously and stood stumped in the threshold.

In the immense room, he was sitting on the couch by the window, reading a book, the sun cascading over his fabulous form, beaming on half of him, casting shadows on the other. Such a complicated man, she thought.

“Yes?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in askance.

His voice was soft and collected, as it always was, but she flinched as if he yelled at her. She spun around and shut the door, took another long breath and stared at the wood, realized she still had no idea what she would decide to his proposal, had half hoped she would simply enter and he would sweep her up and make the resolution for her.

Her back felt warm, and she hoped he wasn’t staring at it as she stared stupidly at a door for far too long. She turned around again.

The key hurt in her hand.

The walk was incredibly long to span the room.

His gaze was steadily following her, the book placed beside his solid thigh. She stared at the floor as she moved, hoped she looked like she confidently floated, felt like was in danger of falling at every move. She saw his feet and glanced up at the man. Why was he not talking, not moving? It was unnerving.

It was her move to make.

Knowing he waited on her, she sunk down the floor, grateful to not be relying on unstable legs to hold her up any longer, grateful for the fullness of her skirts shielding what felt like tangled limbs underneath. She couldn’t take his piercing look any more and looked to his hands, those beautiful hands that played her body as if she was a instrument capable of heavenly music, now rested on his lap.

“I-,” she closed her mouth quickly, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get words out of her mouth fully formed, capable of the depth of her thoughts right now. She raised her hand and offered the key, offered her will and her love to him. One of his hands moved- she imagined it hesitated in enjoyable surprise- and gently, softly, as if he was afraid she would close her palm and didn’t want to alert her with touch, took possession of the key. It disappeared into a pocket.

“Mine.”

Alice had a conflicted instinct to smile at his almost childlike insistence and a desire to run away from the firmness of the man before her.

“Yours.” She was proud she didn’t squeak that word, that she sounded collected and assured.

Suddenly she was seized at her throat and her hair, her head forced up and her eyes directed at Thomas. He seemed to be searching her expression for clues, she tracked the movement of his eyes calmly.

She was His.

He pulled her up from that position and dragged her across the couch, the forgotten book barely noticeable under her thighs, kissed her on the mouth for a profound length of time, till she ached and was breathless. He uncovered his body from hers, kneeled beside her gasping body, raised her skirts to her knees, the fingers warm and teasing against her skin. Relaxed, at peace, she rested her gaze comfortably on his face and watched him. He removed her boots and stockings and she felt something cold encompassing her ankle before hearing a click. She leaned up on elbows and curiously looked at the thin shackle on her ankle, surprised that she felt no panic, surprised at the gesture and felt pleased with the gift. She imagined him running rope through it to hold her down, and felt herself grow wet with the thought.

When he completed the other ankle, he moved to her head. His hands again took position of her head by means of throat and hair so she couldn’t look away. “What are you committing to?”

She gulped, hated that he asked her for words. She felt herself grow hot and wished she could turn her gaze away from him. She felt the unfamiliar weight on her ankles. “I belong to you. I am yours. I am whatever you want me to be, whenever you will have me.”

He smiled and she felt so proud of his approval. He leaned down and kissed her again, this time more tenderly but with no less passion.

She loved this man who had given her the key.

Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 9:58 am
Dec 232014
 

Hmmmm… as M suggested we compile our Christmas lists this year, I found myself at a bit of a loss. Some of the things that came to mind were silly, while others had a bit more basis in reality.

Being the single sister, I’m sure my list is quite a bit different than M’s.

Let’s start with stuff:

I’ve been dying to get my hands on a we vibe 4 plus. The uses to a single girl going on adventures is vast and naughty. Hey baby, why don’t we go to the movies, and you have the controls in your hands? Then ask after the movie how much of that movie I actually saw!

I’d love to get a rabbit that actually hits my clit without some fancy hand/finger wedging maneuver. I was super excited to get my Vr 11, only to be let down by the armature bit not being ideally positioned.

I’ve been shopping for an anal plug that actually stays where it’s supposed to during sex. My muscles are strong, and shooting a guy in the face with an anal plug, while amusing, isn’t the goal! I need a longer stem with a bigger bulb to stem ratio.

Lingerie. More lingerie. If it’s lace or soft and girly, I want it. It’s a constant shopping desire of mine. Some women like shoes, I like lace.

Now let’s get to the good stuff:

I’d like a date who was open and relaxed and DIDN’T just say everything they think I want to hear… relax dude, I can sniff that stuff out, and while I know it’s part of the dating game, it’s unnecessary. If I’m going to sleep with you, I am. Telling me a bunch of stuff isn’t going to get you farther.

I’d like to move my hot steak of successful orgasms during oral into other sexual acts. I’ve always been a difficult girl to get off, and I’d like to continue my growth to easier orgasms. I think an orgasm while he’s slamming into me from behind would be the most epic thing ever.

This is a repeat goal/wish from last year, but I’d really like to be able to take a bigger dick in the ass. My anal opportunities would open up a lot more. Having a size restriction blows!

I want to find a top for bdsm that I jive well with. It’s been far too long and I enjoy it far too much. I think I’m just extra particular about who I bottom for, it’s been much easier having partners to top.

I want a fire play kit so bad I can taste it. I want to set my toes on fire!

I want a whip. I’m big into impact play and I’ve found the delicious, burning sting of a whip is a sting I enjoy. I’m a thud girl, but some sting hits the spot for me, and this is definitely one.

I think this about sums up the top things I’d moon over for Christmas! I want to wish everyone happy, and naughty holidays, and thank you for making this year an awesome one! XoXoX

M’s Christmas List:

No kids for two weeks, but unfortunately they left us their colds. Still we’ll suck it up and deal with it, here’s what I want for Christmas:

I want to have wax art done on me; I think laying down and feeling the heat of the wax, the focus on the art form on my body, would be incredibly sensual;

I want to have rope wrapped around nipples;

I want to be tied with lights;

I want some long play sessions, where I am mindless.

Some longer term goals:

Longer sessions of pleasure and play, with more consistency;

More connection with my husband during suspensions;

Playing during suspensions;

To become published;

To publicly play;

To continue learning new fetishes/kinks;

When we move (again), to bravely go into the kink communities and meet some wonderful people, like what I’ve done here.

**As a side note, I looked at my wish list last year and was so happy to see so much accomplished!

A very special thank you to everyone who has been on this journey with us. We wish you the happiest of holidays and hope all your wishes come true! Here’s to a new year with new adventures!

Wicked Wednesday