A wax, a facial and a pedicure… What was that? You wanted to see the results of one of the other beauty treatments? Sure… Happy Anniversary Masturbation Monday!!! And a shout out to the […]
My symbolic tattoo is strategically placed (like my hand) so I can look at it frequently to remind myself of our precious friendship, especially when anxiety about the future and fear of abandonment threatens to overwhelm me.
A thought occurred to her. She raised her own jumper, hooked the band of her bra above her breasts exposing her nipples, then scoured the flesh with his woollen garment. The movement brought his scent with it and she bit her lip, imagining his body covering hers. More sparks; earthier, sluttier, flashed between her nipples and her cunt.
my reality involves fantasy, and my fantasies are woven through my reality – there is no separation.
I loved the prompt, but written inspiration was lacking, then I remembered I’d covered the heavenly bodies in some form in photos posted on #SinfulSunday some time ago. So may I humbly suggest you get out your telescopes and peruse the images on offer – again…
And finally, I remember damp leaves and fine silty mud slowly coating my hair, back, arse and thighs. And his knees.
Today I was able to attend a Rope and Drawing session at Splinter in Melbourne. We were fortunate to have Rigger Extatis and Model Jarrod working for us. It was the first time I’ve had the opportunity to draw Shibari up close and personal and I had a brilliant day. My artists eye and my kink sensibilities both had a fabulous workout. While I was trying to work out how to draw a pose, I was also looking at the emotions, and positions and the rope placement thinking, OMG I have to do that to someone /experience that done to me – soon…
I have maybe half a dozen books of (mostly) short stories (including Delta of Venus by Anais Nin) at least half of which involve tentacles or beasts of some sort. While i am no “beauty” I do find myself frequently attracted to the “beast”. I’m enough of a romantic, and I’ve been immersed sufficiently in myth over many years to get off on these sorts of ideas, both in my erotic reading and sometimes, to my detriment, in real life.
His arms are bound behind him, a little distance apart, in a position I learned at the recent workshop. The knots are imperfect, but the ties are firm. I can stand behind him, press against him should I choose to do so, without impediment.
Knowing damn well its not tentacles I’m craving
but the lens flare of your attention