Melting, Part 1

When the phone rang I wasn't expecting to hear his voice. The Traveller had disappeared somewhat, his work had slowed down and with fewer opportunities in hotel rooms we had drifted out of touch. Not with a bang and a fuss, but with a quiet inadvertence. Daily texts had started to arrive on alternate days, daily emails had started to be sent on a weekly basis. And then quiet...

He gave no preamble, made no allowance for small talk: "I miss you. I miss having you in my life."

I slammed past surprised and careened into thrown in a matter of seconds. For words from silence they were striking. They exploded across my (well-feigned) frozen heart, shocking me by shooting stars into my afternoon.

My reaction to those words probably proves how desperate I am for attention, how I crave affection, how I yearn to feel connected. Who would have thought? Apparently I am a sucker for someone who wants to connect with me emotionally.

But, oh god, I melted. I utterly melted.

Recently I was out with the Old Friend - a one time lover who now, oddly, finds himself in the role of my semi-therapist. I was giving him a hard time about putting up walls in relationships and keeping himself boxed off emotionally - not (just) from me, but from the women he dates in his real life, you know - those single ones?

He replied to my harassment very seriously, telling me that if you open yourself up to those feelings - if you hear and accept those loving and affectionate words - then you melt. And when you melt you risk your heart and you risk being hurt.

I told him that he should let himself melt, that he should embrace the opportunities to love and feel, that the feelings are worth the potential consequences. He remained unconvinced, cautious.

Now I get it.

After so long off the market I had forgotten the knife edge of vulnerability that colours true romantic relationships. If you are just fucking it is easy enough to keep yourself closed to both feelings and risk - or, more accurately it is easy to conveniently construct your emotions within the limited space you allow for that relationship.

Fucking is what it is - you can keep it in a box with enough effort, avoiding a messy spill over into real life and real emotion. But when that line is crossed, when someone deliberately moves that line, that is where you become vulnerable - that is where you can't control, can't construct, the relationship on your own emotional terms.

Caging emotion is like bottling fog. Acknowledging those words of feeling, or worst yet those actual feelings, without cracking the facade of sexually adventurous emotional neutrality is almost impossible.

If those words are never spoken you can live without them. The danger is that once you hear them you will need to hear them again...and then a renewed silence will break your heart.

HNT: Yours

You know, don't you, that I am yours? Yours for the asking. Yours for the taking.

You know that I think of you, dream of you, lust for you?

Remember that, won't you: yours.


Happy, HNT, dirty darlings! Swing by Osbasso's to see who else is playing and remember to hit up the Other HNT!

Taboo: Trouble Getting There..

I take anti-depressants.

It has been my experience that most people don't really feel comfortable saying it - for some requiring medication of this kind is tantamount to weakness. Take insulin for diabetes? No stigma there, there is no argument that they shouldn't need it or that they need to tough it out. Taking medication because your brain chemistry is not quite what it should be? For some reason people see this as a failure - and this includes people who actually take the stuff.

Have I told my boss I take Effexor? No. Would I tell him if he asked? Probably.

In line with my general inappropriate boldness, I am generally fairly happy to admit that I take a mild daily dose. After what I now realize was five or so years of unrecognized anxiety and depression, it feels fantastic to think normally, to not be lying awake in bed at night frightened of all the unspeakable horrors that could befall my children, to recognize myself again.

Perhaps a better characterization of my position is that I feel it is important to refuse to hide and feel shame about the fact that I take an anti-depressant. No, I haven't had T-Shirts made that announce "Medicated and Loving It" - but when it comes up in conversation I speak freely. I am who I am and I refuse to shy away from me.

For me doing my part to remove the stigma means admitting to it - the fact is, it is far more common than we think. When I filled my prescription the first time the pharmacist told me that it was the most common drug dispensed. That's right folks, where I buy my drugs, more people take anti-depressants than take the birth control pill.

One of the common side effects of most anti-depressants is a lowered libido. For me this manifests in just plain wanting it less (as my husband says "I am torn about this one...") and also in what amounts to trouble getting there. Sometimes I am really enjoying myself, I really want to cum, but goddamn if I can make it happen. This is a new experience for me, with the right stimulation I used to be able to almost always orgasm - it might not be insanely intense every single time, but I could usually find a little something to make it worth my while.

Sometimes now I just feel kinda numb in the orgasm department - the mood can be right, the technique can be right and yet...nothing. You would think that this might be a deal breaker for Effexor and I, what with my predisposition to being an wanton oversexed tartlet - but the fact is I would rather think normally than cum normally. When life calms down a little I am going to try some other drugs, see if I can get my libido back to normal, but for now I value my sanity too much to try to make the jump.

So, I have been thinking that I need a little assistance in the horniness department - and with that in mind I have ordered some products from the good people at Eden Fantasys. Products that I hope will help me get there. Don't worry, I will be following up with reviews and tips - after, as I put it to my husband, he spends the week rubbing me down...

The Big 4-0?

I am sure that it is old news to some of you, and I am a little late to the game...but today half of my very favourite blogger couple turns the big 4-0.

Happy Birthday to Hubman! Hubman who shares such intriguing stories and dispenses such good advice. Hubman who always makes sure to tell all of us bloggers that he likes both our words and our pictures. Hubman who if you write something that makes him worry will drop you an email to make sure you are making it through.

Personally I am imagining the kind of party that all of the ladies of the blog-o-sphere would like to throw for him...please do include me on the evite, Veronica...

HNT: Join Me

Join me.

Slide my strap down, slide your hands over me, slide your lips down my neck, slide inside me.

Make me beg, make me moan, make me cum. Make me yours, at least for the moment...


Happy HNT, dirty darlings! Make sure to drop by on Osbasso and see who else is playing and don't forget to hit the Other HNT!

The Stranger Part 2: His Turn

I moved until I was sitting right up close beside him, slid my head up to his ear and I whispered: "your turn." "You really don't have to" he said, smiling in a reassuring way. "I know," I replied, "but that doesn't mean I don't want to...."

His jacket was still spread across us, a little more disheveled, but still protecting us from exposure. I ran my hand up his thigh and flicked my tongue across his ear. He made a little noise, so I did it again.

I ran my hands over to his belt slowly and distinctly, starting to undo it in sharp, solid motions - sliding leather through metal. I could feel him hard under his jeans as I undid his button and rubbed my hand solidly over his cock while I undid his zipper.

I slid my hand inside his pants, looping my fingers around him. He was making what can only be defined as an incredible effort to appear normal. Holding his head upright, holding his smile in place - but from my position, cock in hand, I could see that he was finding it more and more difficult to focus.

I ran my fingers over the soft skin of his head, looping down and up, down and up - stroking him softly but increasing the pressure and speed ever so slightly as I progressed. He bit his lip just a little, ran his tongue across them and tried to keep his composure.

I smiled at him and put my head down.

I undid his pants as much as I could without making him pull them down (I do have some standards after all) and I flicked my tongue over the delightful moist end of him, running my tongue in circles before sucking the end ever so softly.

"Really?" he exhaled. I didn't reply.

I wrapped my mouth around him, sliding my head down slowly, taking as much of him as possible and sucking softly. I slowly started moving up and down, surprisingly feeling no pressure to rush given the circumstances. After all, we had a few more hours.

I felt like this was my opportunity to play, to explore a little - and so I did. It was truly one of the most erotic experiences of my life: sucking him like that, a quiet late night blow job - sharing pleasure and a surprising tenderness with a virtual stranger. No expectations beyond the moment and beyond what was offered. No capacity or space for more, just taking delight in what it was.

He arched up into my mouth, getting me to take him deeper, getting me to suck him harder. I slid up and down, loving the feel of him, tasting his excitement on the end of my tongue.

He put his hand on my back, squeezing my shoulder almost in rhythm with my mouth. I could hear his breathing increasing - keeping time with my sucking - becoming more urgent...closer.

I could tell he was about to cum and I increased my pace - wanting to make him feel it as hard as I had. I am not going to lie, I smiled when he came, licked my lips and winked at him.

He tasted delicious, ever so slightly like madness...

Group Post: Sweet Sensations

I sat on the edge of the bed and he kneeled in front of me - a reverse of the situation I had expected. He put his hands on my knees and smiled up at me, slowly sliding my legs apart.

Wide.

My panties had long since been abandoned but my sparkly dress was still on, though riding up over my spread legs and falling off my shoulders.

He slid one hand up each leg, parted me and started to flick me gently with his tongue - back and forth and back and forth. Gently, just the way I like it to start.

I leaned back on my hands, embracing the moment, the pleasure of his mouth. I was a mass of feeling - he sucked and licked and touched me until I came, yelling with the intensity.

The sensation of his mouth was exquisite - beyond. But it was the sensation of being the centre of the moment, of being the woman he wanted to pleasure, of receiving his lust...that was the sweetest sensation of them all.


Click through and see who else is playing for this month's group post:

Haute Chocolat: http://www.thekinkchronicles.blogspot.com/
Britni: http://britisstillshameless.blogspot.com/
Petal: http://secretlifeofaslummymummy.blogspot.com/
Ronjazz: http://www.ronjazz.blogspot.com/
fgsakes: http://fgsakes.blogspot.com/
Library Vixen: http://libraryvixen.com/
Dave - http://glimpsesofdave.blogspot.com/

Bri: http://www.theunequivocalme.blogspot.com/
Gray : http://mygrayline.blogspot.com/
Salt and Pepper: http://cellobiscuit.blogspot.com/
Topaz http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com/
Barefoot Dreamer: http://dreamingbearfoot.blogspot.com/
Panserbjorne: http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/
Autumn: http://autumnmistspeaks.blogspot.com/

HNT: Pulling Down My Panties

Happy HNT, dirty darlings! Don't forget to see the man in charge, our dearest Osbasso and remember to drop by the Other HNT!

The group post email went out this week - if you didn't get an invitation to participate and you would like to be added to the list - or if you think you should be getting emails and aren't (some servers do block my address when it comes in bulk) - drop me an email...the post is for Friday, so you had better get on that today.

The Stranger Part 1: My Turn

There is something to be said for a hot stranger who rescues you from a creepy pick-up attempt.

That something is: put your fingers in my panties.

After he rescued me from the very drunk man who swore I was the woman he had always been looking for he sat with me on the overnight train to make sure that the icky predator did not return. We made fast friends, laughing and joking easily. When I got cold he pulled my legs over his lap and covered them up with his jacket, rubbing his hands along my calves to make sure they were warm. Oh my, I thought, oh my my my.

Now maybe nice girls don't let strangers rub their legs on the train. - but, really, what was I going to do? Hypothermia is dangerous, darlings, dangerous, and you can't be too careful.

The lights went low and everyone around us fell asleep. With his hands on my legs and my legs on his lap he leaned in to kiss me. And what a kiss it was...

He kissed me with incredible tenderness. Normally a kiss from a random stranger is a fuck me now kiss, it is a dirty kiss or a hot kiss - this was a patient kiss, an all the time in the world kiss, it was a kiss without an agenda. And it was pretty goddamn perfect.

He kissed me, one hand in my hair, the other on my legs - he kissed me like that and he demanded nothing more from me. He kissed me to kiss me, without expectations. I have to confess, no one ever kisses me like that and I really, really enjoyed it.

I edged closer, teasingly flicking my tongue over his ear, on his neck. He leaned back and looked at me, smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked, looking around. I smiled, nodded, "really" I said, "really." And that time I kissed him.

He slid his hand up my skirt and stroked my thigh. Higher and higher until he rubbed his thumb over my panties, kissing me and stroking me softly. I moaned quietly, he chucked..."shhhh." I moved my hips in time to his fingers, pushing up toward him until he slid his fingers inside to rub my clit, leaning over to whisper in my ear: "I hope you can cum quietly." Oooh, um, maybe?

He moved my legs as far apart as can be effectively arranged on a small seat on a train, moving in between them. He slid his fingers right inside me and stroked in and out, making me utterly crazy.

He had me there: legs open with abandon, covered but mussed, on the verge of making a spectacle of myself - and I couldn't have cared less. I undid his zipper and slid my hand into his pants, running my hand up and down his cock, "I can't even list all the things I want to do with and to you right now." I am pretty sure if I thought I could have gotten away with it I would have put my hands against the train window and had him fuck me while I leaned against it. Fortunately for the other passengers and my criminal record I managed to restrain myself.

He continued to slide his fingers into me and he brought his thumb up to rub my clit. My muscles were tensing in time to his fingers, my breathing sounded almost too loud to me in that moment - it took almost all my concentration not to moan.

"Oh my god, I'm going to cum" I whispered (at least I hope I did) into his ear. He smiled at me, kissed me, and picked up the pace.

Now I am not sure if you often have to orgasm quietly in a public space, but I am not so sure I am any good at it. That being said, I don't think anyone noticed...but oh my god, was it intense: lifting up your hips, digging your nails into the seat, your whole body releasing, intense. It was one of those orgasms, the kind you don;t have all the time and that shake you when you do.

It had the intensity of those teenage moments, when you are first learning how to play those games, the shocking intimacy and pleasure of being touched. Once you have adult relationships it is so rare that sex is not on the table that we almost forget to really enjoy fingers in our panties. It becomes merely a step in a process, not the whole event. But really, us grownups are missing out, let it be known that I am starting a campaign for a fingering renaissance - and I will be wearing skirts in public from now on...

HNT: Sparkly Tart

I get in these moods sometimes...where I am predatory: scanning, waiting, watching. On the hunt. Tonight is one of those nights: I want to pounce, to play, to be pleasured.

Happy HNT, dirty darlings, don't forget to swing by Osbasso and see who else is playing...and of course the Other HNT.

Dirty Sexy Blogger Night Out

So, you wanted to know what happened at the sexy dirty sex blogger dinner?

Dinner was a blast. Of course there was belly dancing, sexual harassment of the waiter and conversations that drove not one, but two couples away from the adjoining table. But, that wasn't the best part - there were also the three fabulous women that I have read and corresponded with . That was, without a doubt, the best part.

I don't know if you all do this, but when I read your emails and blogs I picture you. I didn't realize how much I do this, how much I have given you all faces and hair colours and voices in my head. Walking into the restaurant last Monday night I had definitely created images in my head of what these ladies would look like, of who they would be. I have to confess, they were not quite what I had envisioned. My imagination had steered me wrong...they were without a doubt better!

I had pictured Aurore as more goth, the Duchess as more 'red" as I put it - more 1930s movie star to put it another way (although she does have that air about her so I was more accurate with her), and Topaz I had pictured as more brash, as less of a delicate lady than she is. They were as interesting and entertaining as I had imagined and hoped - and I discovered to my delight that I was able to spend some time with them, rather than who I thought they were. None of us were in character that night, we just enjoyed being ourselves and being with each other.

The fear when you meet someone who exists in your head only via printed words is that the reality will fall flat. That it will be like a poor transition from novel to screen. At our dinner it was just the opposite, I got to see them - out of character and out on the town. To connect women to the words and stories I follow so enthusiastically, and to in turn become a real flesh and blood person for them, was truly delightful.

I was disappointed that I needed to cut the evening short to hop on my all night transit back home to work the next day, I could have happily kept the evening going. That being said, on the trip home I did make the acquittance of the most delightful stranger...