Bedroom Closet

I didn’t have any fun, new or orig­i­nal pic­tures to share.  We’ve been quite busy, as is obvi­ous by the com­plete lack of writ­ing here.  I keep telling Simon to get to it.

So in lieu of new expe­ri­ence or sto­ries I’ll give you this, dif­fer­ent sides of both Simon and I.

Simon is one of the most kind hearted, amaz­ingly sweet and sen­ti­men­tal men I have ever met.  (In addi­tion to being one of the sex­i­est, smartest and self con­fi­dent)  He works hard and can come off as very seri­ous and a lit­tle terse at times.  But I get to see all of him, includ­ing the kit­ten lov­ing, cover hog­ging, Sun­day morn­ing snuggler.

My “other side” comes out when I’m a free of respon­ci­bil­ity, when our boy is with familly for the week­end, or I’m going out  with friends.  I turn into a more spon­tan­ious, care­free and ocas­sion­ally vain per­son.  Even with all of my body hang ups and being uncom­fort­able in my skin a lot of the times I have my vain moments.  And the thing that always gets the most atten­tion dur­ing these times is my hair.  I love the color, the straight­ness, the way it moves and hangs just right when I do it right.

So todays HNT is about per­cep­tion.  To many Simon may seem stern and hard and occa­sion­ally cold, when I know he is just the oppo­site.  And I often appear to be the lov­ing mother who has let her­self get lost in that shell, when on days I am that woman who knows she looks good and has no prob­lem flirt­ing from across the room.

Vaca­tion is start­ing later today for both of us.  Some­thing we both need.  So the HNT is up early with me, relax­ing in bed.  And Simon show­ing me how warm he stays even out­side in the freez­ing tem­per­a­tures

So I finally got off my butt and took a pic­ture   Squeaky clean, even if I’m a lit­tle late!

I’ve been slack­ing on the HNT’s lately, I’ll get back in the swing, I promise.  But as usual Simon is on top of things

She fit the stereo­type beau­ti­fully, hair long and dark, falling like a silk cur­tain over her shoul­der.  Skin so white it glowed, almost sparkled, cold to the touch yet full of beauty and power.  She wore the most beau­ti­ful corset I had ever seen and a Parisian silk skirt, ruf­fled and held up by garters touch­ing the floor in the back but show­ing all of her beau­ti­ful thighs and the small tri­an­gle of black silk that kept her barely mod­est.  I envyed her in so many ways.  Her beauty, her strength, even her attire.

I looked up at her from my knees, her hand grasp­ing the back of my head, hold­ing my hair with just enough force so that I knew she could toss me aside at any time.  Her face was as beau­ti­ful as the rest of her.  Dark eyes to match the hair, strong nose, and lips that she had pol­ished a glis­ten­ing red.  She grinned down at me and pulled me closer, press­ing the side of my face against her thigh.  The cold star­tled me but sent my blood rush­ing through me.  I could feel the warmth show­ing in my cheeks as well as the wet­ness that had begun between my legs.  I found her irre­sistible and ter­ri­fy­ing.  I would do what­ever she asked.

She pulled me up by my hair, keep­ing my face in con­tact with her the whole time.  My breath­ing became heavy as I felt more of her leg, the silk of her skirt and the strength of her hand.   She stopped lift­ing me when I reached her breasts and pressed me against them harder.  Cold and firm, nip­ples barely cov­ered by the corset, still and silent.  I couldn’t resist.  My lips met her skin and I heard the tini­est of sighs.  As I kissed and licked the sighs turned to moans but  skin stayed cold.  My motions became fran­tic and I boldly put my hands around her waist, pulling her closer before attempt­ing to release the rock hard nip­ples I knew hid beneath her corset.  Gen­tly, but firmly she stopped me.  “There’s time.  There will always be time” she whis­pered softly push­ing me back down to my knees and pulling me back against her thigh…

Simon gave me a prize for some good work I did.  I could write down three things I wanted.  He would pick one.  None could be dupli­cates.  This was a dif­fi­cult thing to do.  So I asked if I could give three sce­nar­ios, three vignettes that would tell a lit­tle more than what one sen­tence could.  Some may be longer than others…I have some spe­cific ideas…but I thought I would start with the sweet and simple.

Pam­per:

Can­dles were lit in the liv­ing room, it was warm, there was clas­si­cal gui­tar play­ing softly in the back­ground.  He had cleared off the couch and cof­fee table, straight­ened the room and there was a glass of wine poured and wait­ing.  I sat down and smiled, tak­ing a sip, a good start to the evening I thought to myself.  He said he was tak­ing care of din­ner and I laughed.  Sit back and relax a bit I was instructed.  My feet were lifted and placed on a pil­low on the table and his hands wan­dered up my legs, mas­sag­ing the my calves mov­ing up my thighs until they reached the warm spot between and began gen­tly rub­bing.  He kissed my neck, and nib­bled up to my ear, “Cir­cle what you would like, I’ll be back” he said before hand­ing me the Chi­nese take-out menu and walk­ing away.  I love it when he takes care of din­ner.  I kept work­ing on my wine and before I knew it I was done with the glass and he was back.

My glass was slipped out of my hand and refilled before he handed it back.  “Come with me” he said pulling me gen­tly to my feet and lead­ing me back through the hall to the bed­room.  Again my glass was taken from me.  Gen­tly it was set aside and he began to undress me.  Slowly and gen­tly he unbut­toned my shirt and slipped it off.  With the same care he unbut­toned my pants and slid them down, lift­ing each leg gen­tly then toss­ing the pants aside.  I was in bra and panties when he handed my glass back and stood, admiring.

His hands started to trace my body, gen­tly touch­ing each curve, every freckle, every line, every part that I see as per­fect and flawed.  Then his mouth fol­lowed.  Kiss­ing each con­tour, his tongue dart­ing out to taste where he liked all while his hands unfas­tened my bra and let it fall to the floor.  His atten­tion moved to my nip­ples as soon as they were exposed.  Already hard from the atten­tion he hard­ened them fur­ther, draw­ing each one into his mouth, trac­ing it with his tongue then gen­tly blow­ing on them as he released.  He had pushed down my panties as he was enjoy­ing my nip­ples and soon a hand was between my legs, feel­ing the mois­ture and heat that had been devel­op­ing.  Slowly and gen­tly his fin­gers played, slid­ing in between the wet lips, slip­ping into the hot wet hole they cov­ered.  I was pant­ing when he stopped and again took my hand to lead me.

The bath­room had been lit with can­dles as well.  But it was more than that.  The nor­mal clut­ter had been removed, the space was clean and glow­ing, with a pile of plush tow­els wait­ing to dry as well as some folded by the tub for use as a head rest.  The same music was play­ing and steam and foam filled the tub.  I smiled as he helped me in and went to refill my wine.  When we came back I was enjoy­ing my soak.  In one hand was my refilled wine, the other a water pitcher.  “Lean for­ward” he said and he began fill­ing the pitcher and pour­ing the hot water over my head.  I have always loved hav­ing my hair washed, it’s such a lux­ury, such an amaz­ing inti­mate thing, it doesn’t hap­pen often.  His hands ran through my hair lath­er­ing it with my favorite sham­poo, mas­sag­ing my scalp and rins­ing it with the pitcher.  His atten­tive­ness was intox­i­cat­ing, I just wanted more of it.  When the sham­poo was done he began wash­ing me.  The large sponge he had was cov­ered in almond soap and gen­tly rubbed over my entire body.  He focus on his task but man­aged to treat me with even more at the same time.  His hands and sponge lin­gered on my breasts, explor­ing each curve attend­ing to the nip­ple as well as the under­side.  Spe­cial atten­tion was paid to my feet and legs, the soap work­ing to help with the gen­tle mas­sage.  And once again when his hands found my pussy the lips were parted as he gen­tly pushed inside me.  I was gen­tly lifted so that my ass could be prop­erly attended to, soaped and mas­saged, the tight hole cleaned and teased ever so gently.

Once I was thor­oughly clean he sat back to admire again.  “Would you like to shave?” he asked, know­ing that it is some­thing I pre­fer to do alone.  When I nod­ded dream­ily that yes I would he handed me a new razor and bot­tle of shav­ing cream.  He then left me to my work but not before set­ting down a small bell.  “Ring this when you are fin­ished, before you get out.”

I took my time.  I enjoyed the scents and the warmth and the feel­ing of my own skin.  And when I finally fin­ished I rang the small bell and sat back to wait.  He returned and helped me out of the tub, wrap­ping me imme­di­ately in one of the warm tow­els that were set aside.  The other he handed to me, laugh­ing that he couldn’t pos­si­ble do that “thing” that I do with the towel and my hair.  He dried me thor­oughly, then again took my hand to lead me from the room.

There was a sheet laid out on the bed and my favorite lotion was laid out, I was sur­prised, but not dis­ap­pointed to see the vibra­tor was out as well.  Can­dles were lit in every cor­ner, the music was light, and I gladly laid down when he motioned me to…

Restrain & Train:

A night of sen­sory extremes, in plea­sur­able ways.  Con­sider it a chal­lenge, to heighten my feel­ings, to make me feel things differently…

Bound spread eagle across the bed, blind­folded, cold toys and warm fin­gers alternating…

Hog-tied with toys strate­gi­cally placed, mak­ing my pussy vibrate as I feel your cock rub­bing the soles of my feet…

On my back with wrists and ankles bound together as your tongue and fin­ger my ass…

Wrists bound to the bed, blind­folded as you slowly use the dildo on my ass, get­ting it ready to take your cock…

Mak­ing me cum in every other than I am used to…

Feel­ing your cum cover me every­where other than my pussy…

Bound and blind­folded, lis­ten­ing to you watch porn and use me as a prop…

Used, but not dom­i­nated, taught but not pun­ished, pushed in ways that I wouldn’t expect…

Serve:

You would be at my mercy.  And I can be very sweet, but I can be very demand­ing as well.  You would be used sex­u­ally, that is cer­tain.  But also for the things I just don’t want to do, the things that I feel above doing at the time.  A sex­ual prop, an errand boy, a ser­vant.  A foot­stool, a masseuse, a place to set my ash­tray.  You would be used in many ways depend­ing on my mood.  But one thing is promised.  You would have your face buried in my pussy often, and at least once it would be as I was hav­ing a cig­a­rette and a whiskey by the window.

Three ideas, three prizes, any of which I would greatly enjoy.  I’ll let you know which I win.  I really have no idea which one he will pick, but he has had this pic­ture on his desk­top for awhile…

Every night when we put our son to bed Ava does the tuck­ing in (after I say good­night) and I wait out in the hall­way by the door.  She comes out and shuts the door and thus begins our tran­si­tion from adults-with-kid to adults.

Some­times I’m naked.  I’m naked a lot around the house but some­times I’m naked when Ava emerges from the bed­room.  Once a while ago I sug­gested that a good way for me to let Ava know that I was feel­ing par­tic­u­larly sub­mis­sive would be for me to face the wall, naked as I was, and wait for her to emerge and do as she will.  As our house is laid out I would have to wait not as she came up directly behind me…

I’ve never done it.

I’ve cer­tainly felt “that” sub­mis­sive since I men­tioned it; but even on nights when I know I’m feel­ing that way and I stand naked in the hall some­thing keeps me from turn­ing and fac­ing the wall and accept­ing her judgement.

Maybe I can’t really let go…

We are in the process of mov­ing some stuff around, get­ting new pic­tures, new design, and new con­tent.  We know it’s been awhile.  But stick with us and We promise good stuff will follow!

I some­times think I’m an anom­aly.  As a woman I feel like I am sup­posed to enjoy long erot­ica.  Deeply descrip­tive and detailed sto­ries.  The kind where every kiss is lin­gered upon, every emo­tion felt, each touch described.  On occa­sion I do enjoy the sto­ries, but a lot of the time I am just look­ing for a fix.

I skip through the story, I rush to the steam, I skip over every­thing and read the cli­max over and over fin­gers work­ing with the words in my mind.  I like it fast and dirty.  I look for the sto­ries that are so far beyond my expe­ri­ence.  I look for sit­u­a­tions that I can’t even fathom in my real life.

That’s not nec­es­sar­ily what I like in real life, it’s not always what I write.  I laugh at my impa­tience often.  I won­der if other woman are the same way, rush­ing to the point of impact.

Sim­i­larly I won­der if oth­ers find them­selves think­ing things while fuck­ing that may not appeal in real life.  The foulest of lan­guage, being called the filth­i­est of words, imag­in­ing whis­pers that aren’t there, unable to say them out-loud.  Think­ing why?  Would I really want to be told these things, to be called these names, but get­ting wet­ter each time they are mut­tered in your imagination.

There are things that I think that I couldn’t utter, that I haven’t really writ­ten.  I’ve got­ten close, but not crossed that line.  Simon is an amaz­ing man, and would indulge any whim of mine, but often the whim is in the thought alone…

I can’t always under­stand why I don’t share.

Then there are the times when no thought of kink passes through my head.  When a sim­ple fuck then sleep is enough, more than enough, and I won­der how is it I am the same per­son as I was when I was think­ing such filth.

Just thoughts, emp­ty­ing my head, before I look for my inspi­ra­tion tonight…