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On singing out loud, nekkid pitchers, and boobs
I’ve not done a great job keeping up with things this week, but it’s Friday now, and time to breathe a bit more deeply. (We here in the states also have a 3 day weekend ahead in commemoration of Memorial Day.) It’s bittersweet, though. Normally, my family would be going to a 4 day long music festival, as we do every year. But, this is the 2nd year it’s been shut down due to Covid. While I look forward to the relaxation, I’m also sad that I won’t be dancing and enjoying myself (fuck you, Covid!). Anyhow, since I haven’t had time for memes this week, let’s give a little…
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Intoxication
It’s not something I’m usually conscious of: His scent… always subtly whispering…having secret conversations with my own…mingling to create the smell of us. Of course, I was highly aware of it early on…not so much that it was there…or that it was good. The right scents are often like that. So right…possibly so like our own…so natural, we almost miss them at first. It is always easy to tell when someone’s scent is wrong. When the chemistry is off. But when it’s right? Up close, His breath against my lips, under my nose… inhaling the heat in the crease of His neck… the softness of His chest hair… the deep musk of His groin……
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Putting in the work
As I’ve noted before, Mr. D and I have been going to a sex therapist/marriage counselor, Dr. Roger Libby, for a little while now. It began making a difference from the first day, because it was obvious how different he was from a regular marriage counselor. He gave us hope and immediately started guided us with actions to take rather than simply discussions of feelings or rehashing the past. We’re definitely a committed couple, for all our other relationship faults. And neither of us wants our relationship to fail. We moved past all the people we could live with and landed on the one we couldn’t live without, which is…
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The Mark of Pain
The Theory of (Pain) Relativity I’m fairly new to “enjoying” pain. And I say that with a bit of a grimace, because I’m not sure I’d really call it “enjoyment” quite yet. But there is something appealing about it…something that keeps me coming back, at least periodically, to the thought of it. I’ve even requested spankings a few times, and while I wouldn’t call the feeling “enjoyment” quite yet (or ever?), I would call it cathartic…freeing…unwinding. I suppose there’s real science to back what I’m feeling. The adrenaline rush…the endorphin release. But it doesn’t always feel good…and it doesn’t always help me relax. Which means there’s an element of mindset…
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Electric
I wasn’t going to write about electric play for KotW. In fact, I don’t write for KotW much at all, because I often feel out of my element discussing kink. In my mind, because I read about kink from the points of view of so many whom I really would term kinky, I assume I’m just not much into any sort of kink. Of course, that isn’t true. I was recently reminded while reading a few tweets and blog posts that what one person finds kinky, another person finds to be the norm, and yet another finds to be deplorable and immoral. In fact, according to one blog post I…
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His Hands
His hands, full of heat and healing energy, have the ability to both decrease or increase my heartbeat. Depending on the moment, they can calm me, rubbing knots out of my shoulders and backside, holding my hand, sitting on my thigh, cupped around my breast as we fall asleep. Or they can raise my pulse: roving, gripping, pulling, grabbing, holding me down, leading me, fingers entering, searching, finding just the places he knows will make me squirm and leave me in a puddle. His hands are strong, capable, less rough than they used to be, but definitely the hands of a man who has done hard work in his life…
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Before & After
Before you slowly slide your hand over my sleeping hip, I am dreaming of your face between my thighs, the heat of your mouth on my sex. But after you touch me, I breathe in deeply, moaning myself slightly awake beneath your weight as you roll me onto my back and spread my legs. You lean over me, kissing my neck…my ears, and I arch in response, whimpering with need. I rub my wetness against you, your erect cock pressing between my folds, soft and warm with slow, hazy lust. You slip inside, filling me with your cock, and I raised my pelvis to meet you, hungry for all of…
