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Forever
Even with all the photos surrounding her…the albums…boxes of loose Polaroids…she still couldn’t seem to keep track of his face. She was losing him. The details. The feel of his 5 o’clock shadow against her face when he kissed her hello. The smell of his cologne wafting behind him. His razor still sat next to the sink. Toothbrush dry in the cup. Suit laid out on the bed. Ready to be worn. Forever. She’d had a different forever in mind. Placing her hand on her belly, she felt a kick and hoped he would look like him. So she’d never forget. Join in… The 💯 Story Challenge You can…
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The Show Must Go On (11/100)
(Image credit: Creator: RapidEye | Getty Images/iStockphoto) McMahan: Where’s the body, Joan? [JOAN avoids eye-contact, wringing her hands nervously behind her back.] McMahan: Joan? Joan: I’m a little teapot, short and stout…here is my handle, here is my spout… [JOAN dips to the side, left hand pointing toward the ground. MCMAHAN starts, his face a question.] McMahan: There? [He points to the ground by her left foot.] Joan: Hey coppa, you’re a smart one now, aintcha? [MCMAHAN pushes her aside, digging into the dirt with his shovel, quickly uncovering a bruised hand.] McMahan: The director!? Shit, Joan! How are we supposed to finish this scene without him? Join in… The…
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Naked (5/100)
Image source: Getty Images “Picture them naked,” Kevin said. “Everyone suggests that, but it doesn’t work for me,” Sara replied. “No, you must really imagine it.” “I don’t have that kind of imagination.” “Everyone has that kind of imagination.” *silent stare* *questioning blink* Sara licked her lips, “Maybe you could…help me…practice?” “Absolutely!” Kevin smiled, sat down on the couch, crossed his legs, and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to begin. “No…I mean, practice imagining the crowd naked.” Sara grinned. “How, exactly?” *raised eyebrow* And that’s how Kevin found himself sitting, naked on Sara’s couch listening to a presentation on hummingbird migration. Join in… The 💯 Story Challenge You can follow…
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The Map of the Soul
Her blue-green pulse flutters beneath rice-paper skin, braided veins, like intersecting highways, connect destinations across the continent of her body. He has traveled every road, knows every spot and scar, has drawn lines to chart his journey. But she is soft, after all these years, pliable and faded. Creases have worn holes at her corners. So he rarely unfolds her anymore. He doesn’t need to, though. He knows every back road, every scenic route, every waterway, every landmark, by heart. She has become the map of his own soul, and, holding her gnarled hand, hearing her whispered breath, he could find his way blind.
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Looking Back to Plan Forward
I always look back when I plan. Knowing where I’ve been, what I’ve experienced, and how that has turned out helps me to make decisions about what to do differently in the future, as well as what not to change. What you are not changing, you are choosing. – David Richo Over the past few years, my goal has really been to whittle my overfull plate down to those things that actually “work” and dispense with what doesn’t in every area of my life. To pare down and simplify routines so they are manageable, effective, and make me happy. Because I’m the sort of person who is easily…
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My Top 10 Posts of the Year
Top 10 Most Viewed Posts of 2021 I lost a lot of readers in 2021. I’m not exactly sure why, other than my hiatus It went right along with a big loss in Twitter followers. But, in general, the “sex-blogging” community has sort of been crumbling for a few years now. Shifting alliances have put a dent in everyone’s readership, and many of us have cut ties, simplified, re-organized, and moved on. Now, many of us are rebuilding and re-networking. The following are in order from most popular to least. I have also listed the associated memes, just so I can see which have brought me the most views/traffic. What…
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Light and Dark
In each of us there is darkness and light. We are multidimensional, with “good” and not-so-good qualities. We have “quirks” and cracks, all based on what society deems acceptable. Alone, we just are. But when put with others, we are mirrors. And we are easily given to comparison, continually measuring normality, fighting or living up to expectation, and dealing with the emotional price of doing so. Not all of us question so much or spend as long in introspection, but those of us who do…we over-thinkers…can spend more time in our heads than in the world. The irony is, the world is in my head, determining my thoughts too much…
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Compliments
#SubmissiveAdvent I’ve gotten much better at taking compliments over the years…mainly because I’ve become more confident and aware of my strengths and more accepting of my weaknesses. No one is perfect, but we are all good at something. Out job is to find what that is and capitalize on it. I may not be thin. My body may be giving in to gravity. But it is strong enough and healthy enough to get me around. And the important people find me attractive. I’m intelligent and good at my job. It doesn’t mean I don’t always have more to learn…in fact, that is one of my strengths: the capacity to accept…
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Erotic poems, love letters, and sexy lingerie
Basket of Figs By Ellen Bass Bring me your pain, love. Spread it out like fine rugs, silk sashes, warm eggs, cinnamon and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me the detail, the intricate embroidery on the collar, tiny shell buttons, the hem stitched the way you were taught, pricking just a thread, almost invisible. Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine. That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of pomegranate. I would lift it tenderly, as a great animal might carry a small one in the private…
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The Fall
Summer spun Autumn across the soggy lawn, dipping her dramatically, then carefully dropping her in a pile of recently raked leaves. She giggled as they crunched beneath her weight. Her shirt had come untucked in the playful scuffle, her midriff now bare, allowing the brittle kiss of nature to touch the strip of creamy skin. Her auburn hair, liquid silk against the swirling jumble of colors, ochre, rust, and avocado, created a stunning backdrop…a mental postcard baring the message, all good things come to an end. Summer smiled down at her, his white teeth made more brilliant by the tan of his skin and the blush of his lips. But…
