Another one

Another birthday, come and gone.

I had considered getting pissy about the lack of attention from down south on such an auspicious day. Actually I did get pissy. For about 10 minutes.

Then I decided that no one deserves that kinda control over my emotions. And I left it behind.

So. Happy birthday to me. I stayed under my calories, I did 35 minutes @ 17.7mph on the bike, and I relaxed.

Who needs more than that?

Me first.

At several points in my life, I've made this promise to myself:

ME First.

And typically, after I've done that, something happens - some kind of dramatic bullshit - that distracts me from that.

I'm making a conscious decision to not let that happen this time.

I've spent far too much time in the last year worrying about things I have no control over. No more.

Focus --> Me.

I can't help feeling selfish by doing and saying that. But occasionally in life, you gotta be selfish. Especially when it's your own life at stake.

"Life's too short to wear baggy jeans." Screamer, 2006.

For those of you wondering...

..where the D/s went....

Well. It's still in my head and my heart. It's just not so much on paper.

There are many reasons for that. Firstly, because currently there is none in my life. Secondly, because I'm working on myself right now, and there really isn't any room in my life for another person to serve (I am my own demanding taskmaster!). And thirdly, I guess, because I'm in a place where it's slipped way down on the priority scale.

That makes me really sad, but what's happening with me right now is much more important.

It's not that I don't think, fantasize and dream about D/s. It's simply that that's as far as I can go with it right now.

But since it's still there -- I imagine it'll be back, sooner rather than later.

Admitting you have a problem is...

Okay, well, I'll admit it. I'm a magazine whore.

It's not that I subscribe to a lot. Just Self and Fit right now, but going to the store always means there will be two or three more in my bag: Cosmo, Us, Shape, Prevention, Allure....doesn't matter, really. Us is really my only guilty pleasure...well, okay, Us and Cosmo. The others, I read for...wisdom collection.

If I spend 3.00 on a magazine, and I take away one piece of wisdom, or one thought that makes me think about my life in a different way - it was worth the three bucks.

I love my magazines. Just try to take them away from me!

I'm also a book whore. Since I started working, and since I don't ever go out for lunch, my lunch hour at least once a week is spent at Border's or Half Price Books - sometimes, two days. I'm still reading fantasy books (The Witches of Eileanan series by Kate Forsyth was *fabulous*!. Now, I'm reading Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory MacGuire, which C got me for Christmas) at night before I go to sleep, but on my table by the couch, I have a pile of non-fiction that I read when there's nothing on TV, or I read them while on the exercise bike. There are some fitness books, there are some wisdom books, there are some women-centric books (Sexy Witch by LaSara W. FireFox is a great read!). I find myself lately reading more and more. I can't seem to help myself.

Reading is my passion. That's just the way it is.

Greetings

I had a fill in my lapband on 1/17. Seems to be a good fill, as I’m eating slightly less, but have the same or better energy level. That might be because I’m actually doing real exercise at night! (6 nights a week). I’m up to 30 minutes(8.5 miles or so in that time so far, about 17mph) a night. It’s good. Boring, but good.

Work is going well – did I tell you I got a real job?- lol. I got hired on full-time status effective 1/16, at 12K more a year than I asked for, so yea – I’m happy

As far as my love life goes, well, I really don’t have one. But the weightloss and the exercise have propelled me forward into taking MUCH better care of myself. I’ve done some serious reading on relationships, self, etc, and am putting as much as fits me into practice.

And you know what? I feel excellent. I truly do. For the first time in god knows how long.

And for those that know me IRL, my hair is actually now down to my butt YEE HA.

Have a great day.

"Life's too short to wear cheap, ugly underwear." Screamer, 2006

I suck at updating

Okay, so it's been ages since I posted. Good reasons for that? I got a job :) Better reasons? I've been writing.

So, let's see.

Since I started the pre-surgery processing last June, I've lost 64 pounds. I feel GREAT. This week, I started riding my exercise bike *every day* instead of just when I thought about it. I started at 1 mile, am going to work up to 5, then up the tension some.

I'm still working on my fantasy novel. So many good ideas, so little time to write them.

I started working for a small software company the week of Thanksgiving. The work is good, my boss is so-so, but I'm getting into the swing of it, and I'm sure it'll be fine.

I spent New Year's with C. He was sick for most of it. Talking went so-so, but when he and I just let go and be ourselves and have fun, we have such a great time. Having a relationship like that is a gift. It's a sin to waste it /nod

The cats are great. My family is great. Christmas was all right. My tree is still up ha ha. My mom has to come and take it down with me, cause she wants to pack my ornaments up "right" /eyeroll. Sometimes, it's easier to just agree, smile and nod.

I'm playing some World of Warcraft, and also some Warcraft III. I'm watching "Queer as Folk" from the beginning(I've never seen it, but I've heard so many people talk about how much they liked it, that I had to give it a try, and now I'm hooked). I'm about halfway through season 3, so don't ruin it for me :)

I just wanted to catch y'all up if you're still reading. Once my brain slows down, I'll come back and expand on some of that more :)

To think on - well, me anyway.

The future is unwritten.

There is still too much for me to do and see in this life for me to accept my past as my future.

*grin*

Home, Safe, Feeling better

Just a quick note to let y'all know I got home Tuesday night from the hospital, and am recovering nicely. :) No regrets. No second thoughts.

My new tagline: "If you can't treat me like the princess I am, please feel free to fuck off at any time."

What is means: My self-confidence grows by the day, as it has since the middle of summer. Regardless of how I like to be treated in the bedroom *grin*, outside of that and in my life as a whole - you'd better be prepared to treat me right~

*grins*

(No, it's not the drugs I swear!) *laugh*

Where I've been, Where I'll be

Quiet, I know. Been busy here, getting ready for my surgery.

Gastric Band (second article, NOT the top one!

This is something I've wanted to have done for a long time. Because of Tri-Care (Navy Insurance) I am able to have it done.

My surgery is tomorrow, and I should be home Tuesday night at the latest. I'm not nervous or scared, more excited that finally having this done removes my last excuse for moving my life forward. For that, I'm happy.

So I'll see y'all soon :)

Writing, different veins

Well, I'm still writing, although not as much erotica as I'd like. I hate to say I had a 2 week party with it and it's all gone - cause I know that's not true. It'll be back. I just have to be patient.

I am however, still writing.

I started a short story to explain why my EQ Charecter, Sola, who is an evil dark elf cleric - married a goody-2-shoes high elf paladin in game. I meant it to be maybe 1 or 2 pages.

It's now over 90 pages and still going. While I realize if I ever want to do anything with it, I'll have to go back and remove all references to Everquest and change all the names, right now, I'm still enjoying writing it.

“Do not push me, Amytal. You will not like the result.”

“I’m not pushing, Princess. Well, okay, maybe I am a little. But why put off the inevitable?” He had tried twice on the long walk from the castle to the church to take her arm, and both times, she rebuked him.

“Because unlike the first part of this ordeal, I can take my own time with this part.”

“Your father is ready for his healers now.”

“My father will have to wait until I am ready to bear them!” she shouted, once again pulling away from him. “I have been through one tribulation today and I will not be pushed into another!”

Amytal, angered by her reticence, grabbed her arm again, and held it tightly this time, his fingers digging into her skin. “Listen to me, Princess, and listen well. This…depression of yours will not go on for long. I for one will guarantee that, for if you push –me-, I will see to it that the choice is no longer yours!”

So much writing...

...and so little else.

Okay, okay. Personal update.

Um, things are the same *chuckle* No, really, not much has changed. I'm looking hard for a job, my dad had his knee surgery and after seeing him yesterday and how well he's getting around, I'm very happy and relieved. Chatted with C a bit last week, things are finally on a straight, even ground between us, and talking to each other is much more comfortable - two friends, checking in. /nod as it should be. The last thing I want is an acrimonious divorce, and I know he doesn't want that either. So it's all good.

Awhile back, I stated pretty plainly that I wasn't so sure I belonged in d/s or wanted it anymore. Well, scratch that completely. I do, and I do. And recently, I've been reminded just how much of a part of me it is.

In addition to the mass writing frenzy, I've been looking for a new publisher for my book, and at the possibility of adding another book of stories to the collection. Unbound went out of business (with absolutely no notice to it's writers, thankyouverymuch) and I'm beside myself with frustration over the entire process of publishing that book. So much so, that I have considered self-publishing and distribution rather than going through that horrible process again. I'm still looking at options, but maybe that'll be what happens.

So, that's me. Writing, being inspired to write, and enjoying my creative streak.

Thank you for all the emails and comments. Y'all truly make my day.

Show Off

...and yet again tonight, inspired~

“So, I can do this, if I like.” He slapped the side of her breast quickly, and then moved his hand to slap the outside of the other one. “I can sit here, and slap your tits around all I like, can’t I?”
She grimaced, but nodded. “If you like.”
“I do like.” He said lightly, and smacked them again. “I like to watch them bounce. But I especially like the look of hate in your eyes when I hurt you.”
Instinctively, she closed her eyes.
He slapped her cheek again, a little harder this time. “Open up those big fucking green eyes, cunt. Those are mine, and I want to see them.”
She growled at him, but complied.
“You keep them focused on my face. I don’t want to see them close, or look away. Clear?”
“Yes.” She whispered.
Both his hands at her breasts now, he moved his fingers to her nipples. “These are most certainly mine.” He pinched them roughly, then let go, and them pinched them again, keeping them firmly in his grasp. He pulled upwards, watching her face go from sullen to twisted in pain. “So pretty…” he whispered hotly. “So pretty when I’m hurting you…” He continued to pull upward, lifting her breasts high with her nipples. “You’re so proud of these fucking things….let’s pull them up and really show them off.”

What a *Bad* Girl Gets...

This is a an excerpt from a new story written today. It's a companion piece to "What A Good Girl Gets" (See here). I knew I wanted to write about these two again, but until today, I didn't know exactly how I was going to manage to do that, without being repetitive. I think - I hope - I've accomplished that with this one:

She heard him come back into the room, and lifted her head a little from where she had rested it on the pillows. She felt his weight on the bed behind her, and she straightened her back.
“Have you learned anything tonight, baby?” he asked.
She nodded vigorously. “Yes, Daddy, not to sass you.”
“And?”
When she didn’t respond he immediately, he reached under her and drew the scrap of black satin out, showing it to her. “And??” he asked again.
“Not to wear those kinds of panties.”
“Because…”
“Because they aren’t appropriate for me…”
“Why else?”
Again, she didn’t respond. “You don’t know?” he questioned. “Do I need to show you why?” He slid off the bed and stood next to it. “Look at me.” He demanded.
She turned her head slowly, facing him. His cock was already hard, but when his eyes met her face, and saw the black makeup washed part way down her cheeks by her very real tears from the spanking he felt it jump and grow yet harder. He reached down and grasped it by the root. “This is why, babydoll. This is what those panties do to men, especially when we see them under that short little skirt.”
She stared, her eyes wide, but did not respond.
“This is a lesson you need to learn, and I’m going to teach it to you tonight so I don’t ever have to do it again.” He said softly, crawling back on the bed behind her. “This is going to hurt, but you have to trust that Daddy just wants you to learn…”
“Daddy, no please, I understand.” She begged.
“I don’t think you do. If you did, you wouldn’t be back talking me again now.” Letting the tip of his cock brush against her, he reached for the small bottle he had laid on the bed.
She groaned and let her head fall down against the pillow again. He quickly grabbed her hair and yanked it back up. “Bad girl.” He admonished. “Do you remember what happened last time I caught you wearing bad girl underwear?”
“Yes, Daddy…”
“You remember how I rewarded you when you said you wouldn’t wear them again?”
“Yes…”
“I’m not doing that this time. Because you apparently didn’t learn anything. This time, Daddy has to teach you a much harsher lesson.”
She whimpered quietly and struggled to keep her head up. She wanted to argue. Words kept coming to her lips; begging words, pleading words. But she stopped them before they could escape, knowing it would only make things worse.
After warming the lube from the small bottle between his palms, he coated his cock liberally with it, and then poured a little more onto his fingertips. He did not bother to warm it up before slipping his fingers into the crack of her ass. Her shrieks made him grin evilly. “Suffer, bitch.” He growled, and picked up the lube bottle again, letting the cold liquid drizzle straight from the cap, and watched as it slid down, making her shiver. “Be happy I’m using any lube at all…” Recapping the bottle, he tossed it off the bed, and watched her jump slightly when it hit the floor.

You be the judge *grin*

And they just. keep. coming.

From Letting Go (written today)

Slapping the tip against her skin one more time, he brought the crop back up his chest, crossing his arms. “Tell me.”

She groaned, and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to deal with the
pain.

“Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes.” He growled, and slapped the crop
against her left breast.

She screamed again, cursing at him. But she opened her eyes. “I see that you’re going to make me make you cry.” He said, his eyes narrowed. “You know I love your tears, but there are more enjoyable ways for me to get them than this.” With the tip of the crop, he pulled at the chain between the clamps, moving her breasts slightly back and forth, and watching her grimace. “Come on, bitch, cry for me. Maybe that’ll open you up.”

"No!” she shouted.

“No?” he said, a sarcastic questioning look in his eyes. “No? Really? No, you won’t cry? Or, no, you won’t open up?”

She groaned in frustration. “Both!”

“The proper answer, you spoiled little princess, is neither.” He tossed the crop down on the floor and stood up. “You will cry, I promise you that.” Putting his left hand against her jaw, he pulled back and slapped her lightly with his right hand.

She cried out, but did not speak.

Again, he slapped her, a little harder this time. “Tears, bitch. I want to see those tears.” Rhythmically, he started to slap her lightly, one after another until her eyes glazed over, and her face fell forward. He saw her eyes close, but let it go for now, knowing she was starting to sink deeper into the headspace he wanted her in to begin with. “That’s my good girl.” He whispered. “Let it all go now. Tell Daddy what you really want.”

She didn’t respond. He gave her a moment to roll around in the field of her other place before he spoke again. “Come on, princess. Tell me what you need.”

“I’m frightened.” She said in a small voice.
“Of what?”
“Of what will happen when I say it.”

Territorial

Maybe you can tell. I have a new muse.

I met him online, as has been my habit for the last several years. I met him in an unsuspecting place, in a relatively tame, vanilla way, but the longer we spoke, the more of our darkness' we let out, and in doing so, I have found in him someone who has ideas and viewpoints that rattle me. We chat nearly every day, and almost every day, an innocuous word from him will inspire my inner erotica writer, and I will begin a new story.

(No, it's not a relationship other than a mutual respect for each other's seemingly bottomless pit of perversities. I'm not looking for much more than that, and neither is he.)

"I’m not a selfish man.” He said in a low tone. “I’m willing to allow you to fuck other men anytime you choose. But this part of you,” he continued. “this part of you kneeling in the tub at my command, this is mine, and mine alone. I will not share it. Am I making myself clear?”
She nodded, her breathing starting to become less even and more labored. “Yes, Master.” She whispered.
“So, I don’t need to tell you again.”
“No, Master.”
“Do I need to show you, or anyone else what is mine?”
Automatically, she responded. “No, Master.”
“I think perhaps I do.”
The finality in his voice kept her from responding. Her knees, cold in the water against the tile, shook a little, as she waited for him to continue.
Stepping closer to the tub, he grabbed a handful of her hair carelessly and pulled her head back. “Stay like that. And keep your eyes closed.” Taking hold of his cock with his right hand, he leaned over her, and braced his left hand against the back wall of the shower. “The things you make me do to you…” he grunted, as he closed his own eyes, and felt a stream of piss rise up through his cock.
Her eyes still closed, she felt the warm water-like liquid hit her skin, and was confused for a moment. She could feel the bathtub spout still pouring water into the tub around her legs, and the temperature was much warmer than that anyway… With a jolt, her body actually reacting physically to the thought, she let out a small whimper.

A Peg or Two

And the writing frenzy continues.....

“Crawl over here to me.” He said confidently. She hesitated, and he added, “Now, bitch. Don’t make me come get you.”
He watched her gasp, and then slowly fall forward onto her hands. She started to move slowly toward him. “Look at me.”
“I…I can’t…” she whispered, still moving slowly across the carpet.
“You can, and you will.” He set his drink down on the table near the doorway, and crossed his arms over his chest.
Slowly, her head rose up, and she met his eyes briefly before looking back at the floor.
“Keep your eyes right here. There’s nothing on the floor for you to see. Look at me.”
She groaned loudly and stopped moving. He watched her struggle, her emotional fight becoming almost physical as she labored to raise her head again, to meet his eyes.
When she finally succeeded, he nodded. “Now, get here.”
Long moments passed for them both before she finally arrived at his feet. To her credit, she kept her eyes focused upward on his. “Good girl.” He said again, reaching down and stroking her hair. “You see how fun it can be when you close your mouth and let me open mine?”
She didn’t reply; her mind still three feet back on the carpet that she had just crawled over.
“I can smell you” he whispered hotly. “You’re soaked, aren’t you?”
She managed to nod at him.
“Answer me out loud. I want to see if there’s any of that smart-ass left in you for now.”
“Yes.” She squeaked.
“Better.” Thinking for a moment, he continued. “Stand up, and go up to the bedroom. Kneel in the middle of the bed, hands at your side. Face away from the door.” He surprised himself in how easy the words and commands came to his lips.
She nodded, and stood up. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the stairs and climbed them, her head bent forward slightly.

I dunno where it's coming from, but I'm not going to complain~

Wow.

I've been doing very little but writing for nearly a week now. It's in me and it must come out! *chuckle*

I've started working on a much longer story, based on characters of myself and friends from Everquest. I've written it in the vein of the game, but if I ever want to do anything with it, I'll have to change the names and places, etc. That's all right. It's 72 fucking pages right now, and it's a strong story with strong characters and it's fun as hell to write.

Course, then this came pouring out of me tonight.... 3 pages of unadultered erotica...an excerpt:

She heard his key in the lock, and then the door shut behind him. Still unsure of what was to happen, she stayed quietly in the kitchen, looking busy. His footsteps were heavy on the floor, and she heard his briefcase and keys hit the dining room table before he approached her.

Grabbing her roughly by winding his right hand into her hair, he turned her around. His arm went around her waist before she lost her balance, and he pulled her tightly to him, crushing his lips down onto hers. Biting her, nibbling at her tongue, he kept his grip strong in her hair as he worked the short hemline of the dress up, and over her hips. Turning her, he pushed her backwards, into the corner by the pantry.

Completely aroused by his dominance, she melted into him and moved her hands to
his chest, to try to remove his jacket. He pulled his lips from hers, and growled into her ear. “On your knees, bitch.”

Feeling weak from the suddenness of this animal passion of his, she complied, sliding to her knees on the kitchen floor. “Spread your thighs apart.” She heard him say, and moved her knees outward slightly. “More.” He moved his foot in between her thighs, and pushed her right leg outward until he was satisfied.

Keeping her hair wrapped tightly around one hand, he reached down and opened his
fly, pulling his cock out of its confinement. Already hard, it leapt at her and she wanted to immediately put her mouth to it, but she waited. “Stare at it and get hungry, my little cockslut.” His left hand now free, he roughly pulled the shoulders of her dress down her arms, and then reached into the red lace bra beneath the dress, and forcefully pulled her breasts out of it, so that her nipples peaked over the top.
“You certainly did dress the part today, didn’t you, whore?” he growled again. “Put your hands down… behind your back.” When she didn’t comply quickly enough
for him, he said it again, louder. “Do it now. Don’t make me make you do it.”

Her mind was a blur. If she thought she had been aroused all day waiting for this, she had no idea what the actual act could provoke. She could smell herself clearly in the air, and feel her lips sliding apart and together as she breathed heavily.

He didn’t give her time to ponder this. “You know what I want. Give my cock the attention it deserves.” Tentatively, she let her tongue slid out from between her plump lips, and licked the head of his dick, giving him what he normally enjoyed. He growled, pulling her forward a little and parting her lips with the head of his cock. “Suck me off, slut.”

Without hesitation, she slid her lips part way down his shaft, and pulled them tightly around him as she glided back up, leaving a trail of bright red lipstick along his skin as she went. Repeating the move a few times, she felt his hand tighten again in her hair. “You can take more than that. Show me. Show me how much you want that cock,
baby.” She moaned loudly, taking a little more of him into her mouth and partially down her throat. She still could not form a cohesive thought and she was beyond
caring, so lost to this… scene he had created. She started sucking at him in earnest, letting her tongue dance along the top of his shaft as she ran her lips over it.

Still unsatisfied, he put his left hand down into her hair as well. “I guess I’ll have to do it myself…” he barked. Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he started to pull her head close to him, shoving himself further and further into her mouth until he felt her choke. He pulled her backwards, until just the head remained inside her lips, and then yanked her forward again, a little further. “That’s better…that’s my good little slut.”

Writing just feels so...good. I waited a long time for my muse to reappear, and apparently, it's done more than reappear....it has inspired....a lot.

thank you for your comments...they are most appreciated....

I just have to post today, cause last night, I wrote my first long erotica story in many many months.

An excerpt:

“What … do you have on under that blouse young lady?” He asked, pulling the glass from her hand, and setting it back onto the table before it reached her lips.
With a hurt look, she moved back, and pulled her legs up under her, so that she was kneeling on the couch, facing him. “A bra…”
“What kind of bra??”
“A new one…” she whispered.
“New?” He struggled to keep his hands to himself, but raised an eyebrow at her, his heart thumping in his chest.
She nodded, lowering her face again. “I got it downtown.”
“Do you think you bought an appropriate bra to wear under your uniform?”
She shook her head slightly, not raising it.
“Then why are you wearing it?”
“It’s…pretty.”
“Well, I’m sure it is, but that doesn’t mean you should be wearing it.” He lifted her chin again. “I think you better show me…”
“I don’t want …”
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to. I said, show me.”
She looked in his eyes then and bit her bottom lip. Without a word, she reached up and began to slowly unbutton the proper white blouse.
When her hands descended to the button above her navel, he reached out and grabbed them gently, lowering them. With his index finger, he parted the sides of the blouse, and peered inside.
He looked up at her again quickly, and then parted the front of the shirt a little more. He swallowed hard before saying “Do you really think a black lace pushup bra is appropriate under your uniform, missy?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed both sides of the blouse, and yanked it apart, popping the remaining two buttons off and sending them bouncing across the hardwood floor. The sound of the plastic hitting the floor, combined with the gasp of shock coming from between her plump pink lips exploded in his head, and he roughly pulled the blouse the rest of the way off her arms and tossed it on the floor.
She was looking at him, her huge green eyes wide in shock. He didn’t know if it belonged in her game, or if it was genuine, but he was past caring either way. “Definitely not appropriate for school.” He admonished her, his index finger gently sliding along the slope of her breast near the lace. Without waiting to hear an excuse, he let his finger dip inside the cup, under the lace, feeling the contrast between the roughness of the material and the softness of her skin. He let his finger continue to slide upward, to the strap and under it, until he reached her shoulder.
Looking up into her eyes, he continued, “Not appropriate for little girls at all.” Both his hands went around her, to her back, and grasped the sides of the bra firmly. “Not remotely appropriate for you at all.” With a grunt, he pulled both sides away from each other forcefully, tearing the fabric and then pulling the offending garment completely off her and tossing it on the floor as if it were poisoned.
She yelped, her green eyes growing even wider as she reached up with her hands to cover herself. “No!” she cried, and tried to slide off the couch to retrieve the lingerie.
He grabbed her arm harshly, and pulled her back to the spot. “No, indeed.” Grabbing both her wrists in one strong hand, he pulled them out and away from her body. The lace had left tiny impressions in the skin of her full breasts, and he longed to taste them. Her light pink nipples stood up and almost audibly begged for attention as her gasping breaths moved her chest up and down fiercely.
“Only bad girls wear bras like that. I thought you were a good girl.” Still holding her hands in one of his, his other hand slowly moved toward her left breast, to cup it in his palm. “Aren’t you a good girl?”
“I am!” she whimpered. “I am a good girl!”
“You must not be, to wear a bra like that…” Squeezing her breast firmly, he unwrapped his fingers from it, and let his palm dance against her hard nipple. He felt her shiver, and grinned menacingly. “No, you can’t possibly be a good girl.”
A shudder of delight ran up her spine, and she struggled unconvincingly against his hold on her. “I am! I swear it.” She cried, her eyes closed.
“So you say…” Pulling her hands down onto his leg and trapping them there, he leaned in closer to her, and gently bit her nipple, then pulled it into his mouth and allowed his tongue to dance around it. Leaning back for a breath he growled softly “But I don’t believe…not for a minute.”
As his mouth returned to her breast, her head lolled back and a soft groan escaped her lips. She feebly attempted again to pull her hands away from his, but had trouble finding the energy to struggle against him.
He drew his mouth from her and looked into her face. “If I lift that dainty skirt of yours, am I going to find something equally inappropriate?”

Ahhh....it felt so good to write again....I must write more....

I won't say it was easy, cause it wasn't. Having not slept with anyone in a year - not having any real motivation or inspiriation to write, I took a small piece of a conversation with a friend, and it just lead...here.

Here's to hoping there is more inspiration around the corner!