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

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…

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…

I’m not sure that you have all seen this blog, or this par­tic­u­lar post.  But I have, and although I seri­ously doubt I will be even in the top 5 I wanted to throw in my hat.  Because, well, because I have devel­oped and bit of a crush on Mina.  I won’t say mine is the most extrav­a­gant, but it’s what I would do.  If they like it over at Long­ings End, I’ll elab­o­rate and turn it into a bit more of a story

The ride back from the air­port would be our first time really together, in per­son, close enough to touch.  I think I would have to restrain myself, know­ing all that I do about her.  I won­der to myself if she’ll be sur­prised, dis­ap­pointed, excited.  The cab waits as instructed as I step out to pace.  I see her exit­ing, a medium suit­case in tow.  I had told her to bring some­thing warm to wear, among other things.  The L.A. weather being sig­nif­i­cantly dif­fer­ent than our own.

I almost panic and dive back into the cab.  I know she would be crushed, but it’s almost too much.  What if she is dis­ap­pointed, what if I don’t come near her expec­ta­tions or desires.  Then it’s too late.  She glances over and my arm shoots up in a wave.  Relief flows over me when a fan­tas­tic smile and wave respond.  I meet her halfway and we hug.  Friendly but lin­ger­ing, feel­ing the curves, get­ting an idea of how we fit together.  We approach the cab and she seems some­what sur­prised.  This is how we get around.  No car, no need for it.  I had wor­ried about her responce for no rea­son.  “Fan­tas­tic, “she says, “they can be such a pain in.”

The ride to the cities passes quickly, con­ver­sa­tion and laugh­ter fills the cab, and soon we are like old dear friends, except with a lit­tle more spark.  A touch of the shoul­der, or brush of a thing sends waves of excite­ment through me.  I can only won­der what it does to her.

We have options I tell her.  The weather, though brisk if actu­ally quite beau­ti­ful.  It’s a far cry from L.A. but to me it’s almost spring like.  When we arrive at my place again, I am con­cerned with her thoughts.  I would have put her up in the best hotel in the city, but it just wasn’t an option at the time.  She knew that she was wel­come to stay at our place, and if she didn’t want to then we would fig­ure some­thing out.  Again I was pleased at her sweet­ness.  My place was won­der­ful, dif­fer­ent, com­fort­able.  She was look­ing for­ward to see­ing every­thing I had to show her.  I would have thought she was just being gra­cious and kind, but as she took my hand and drew me into another hug I knew she meant it.  I couldn’t help but respond with a kiss.  Not chaste, but not lusty.  She responded just as I had hoped, mov­ing her body close to mine and hold­ing the kiss until I broke it.

A bit flus­tered by the kiss I have to focus.  I had promised this lovely woman a date, and I intended to fol­low through.  I smile as I tell her our plans.  A mid-date change of cloth­ing will be needed, so we pack two small bags, essen­tially large purses and head out.  Today is a day of favorites, and firsts.  I want to share with her the places I love to go, as well as the ones I haven’t yet expe­ri­enced.  We head out into the brisk cold, the sun high and mov­ing fast, cam­eras and huge purses in tow.  It’s not far, I tell her.  We’ll be at the museum in just a bit of a walk.

And so our date begins   more to follow.

We’ve had a busy work week already.  I don’t expect it to stop.  But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been think­ing about *other* things.  It’s just been relaxed, in thought and body…

None of the sto­ries are com­plete.  But if I wait, I’ll never put them down.  So accept these.  Swirling thoughts and images.  The thoughts that run through my mind as my hands roam and fin­gers linger.

Slip­ping her shirt up over her head we gig­gle, think­ing of the one too many mar­gar­i­tas at the restau­rant down the road before our shop­ping trip.  A few drinks and shop­ping, all we had planned on, but as the drinks swirled and our laugh­ter height­ened the glances started to linger, and we were both won­der “when”.  We slink into the dress­ing room, design­ers in hand, much more than we intend to spend, and laugh like girls about our shop­ping adven­tures.  Both of us now in bras and panties I scold her.  You can’t wear a bra with that dress as she begins to slide into it.  Slowly I slip the straps down and un-hook the clasp, slid­ing my hands beneath it to slip off the shell of satin and lace.  Her head leans back as I brush against her nip­ples and I lean in to kiss her, think­ing all the while, she knew she couldn’t wear a bra with that…but I’m glad she played it that way…

Their hotel room was fan­tas­tic, beau­ti­ful light, soft fab­rics, per­fect in every way.  “You Must see the bath­room” she says, pulling me through the suite, leav­ing the boys laugh­ing and pour­ing drinks in the main room.  Amaz­ing.  Huge stone shower that could eas­ily fit four.  Shower heads lined the side, glass doors encas­ing the whole area.  “Wow” is all I can say, some of that was directed at the shower.  The rest was in response to her slip­ping out of her jeans and begin­ning to unbut­ton my shirt.  Within moments the room was filled with steam and we were close, her hands explor­ing me, and mine her.  Wet kisses and slip­pery bod­ies we almost didn’t notice the door open until a sil­hou­ette of two tall men appeared and a voice said “Ladies, you started with­out us.”

We didn’t expect to be out of the ordi­nary when we arrived, but even though it was a night set up for such things we received a few glances.  The music pounded as we made our way through the club, tak­ing in the sights, adjust­ing to the pub­lic nature of our adven­ture.  They had been in more pub­lic are­nas before, but it was dif­fer­ent for us.  They looked amaz­ing.  Him dressed to the nines, fan­tas­tic suit, great shoes, the per­fect pres­ence.  She look­ing both sub­dued and allur­ing, corseted and col­lared, amaz­ing leather boots to match the leash that he held.  We weren’t dis­sim­i­lar in many ways.  I was also corseted, except in a longer skirt and taller boots.  Simon was also in a suit, a rare thing in itself, but it was a unique night, and he would be out of much of it shortly.  We even had sim­i­lar col­lars and leashes, the main dif­fer­ence being I held Simons, and his col­lar was almost hid­den beneath his tie…

There are other thoughts, more details, more images.  But for now this will have to be a start.  We’ve made new friends, and I hope to get to know them further…

The movie played and I sipped my whiskey, stretch­ing out between the two of them, unin­ten­tion­ally arous­ing both.  Head on one lap, feet on the other, I didn’t men­tion the hard­ness I felt under my arm, or object to the gen­tle rub­bing of my ass.  Hands wan­dered as I absorbed it all and I felt the waist band of my pants slid­ing down.  I turned to help them slide off with­out effort and the but­tons of my shirt began to be unbuttoned.

Across the laps of two men, wear­ing only bra and panties, I took the sub­tle touches, the gen­tle kisses, not rec­i­p­ro­cat­ing as much as absorb­ing.  I see the movie flash as I feel their warm hands, and my bra seems to dis­ap­pear.  Kisses on my neck and breasts, caresses though my panties, over my thighs.  I let the mood wash over me and try to put any worry, any nerves out of my mind.

Gen­tly, I’m pulled to me feet and led to the bed­room, where clothes dis­ap­pear and mouths find each other.  Hands roam in the dark, moans com­bine, warm bod­ies connect.

In the morn­ing I feel a chill on my arms but a warm man on each side of me, grow­ing hard again against my soft skin, I snug­gle closer to both and drift back to sleep…

And it was sup­posed to be a P.G. evening…

For any­one won­der­ing what was decided upon, the evening in which I wanted to play but we needed to work…

Sur­pris­ingly enough…a lot got done it was just WAY more fun than usual.

I was try­ing to nap, I hadn’t slept the night before but I couldn’t get the image out of my mind.

White but­ton down, black bra, black panties, short plaid skirt. White stock­ings, Mary Janes, and pigtails.

Bent over his knee as he worked. Panties exposed. Wrists bound to the legs of his chair as he sat at the desk.

Feel­ing his hand on my ass and his cock pressed against my stomach.

We both have work to do, him more than me. I won­der if I would be more dis­trac­tion than motivation.