AIM

Do you AIM? If so, feel free to give me a holler sometime. My nickname is in my profile. Reach out and touch someone! :)

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

I can't help but sing that Lionel Richie song as I browse through the searches that have turned people to the doorstep of this little site.

The searches range from the everyday query to the seriously depraved. Something as innocent as Yankees info (uhhh...those people were probably pissed) or as grotesque as beastiality or the infamous 'sperm juice recipe'. Ewww. Classic ewww.

There have been some interesting new searches this week. One for 'artificial vagina smell'. That can be taken so many different ways. Perhaps he was wondering which plastics his new artificial vagina smelled like, be it vinyl or latex, etc. Or maybe, for what ever odd reason, he wanted to find a perfume scented like vagina. Maybe to scent his artificial vagina with the vagina perfume.

I once watched a show, probably something like Real Sex on HBO, some years ago where they had this guy who sold women's underwear. Nothing unusual about that, right? Except that he advertised them as having been worn by various models on his web site. Now, to prove that they had actually been worn, which they hadn't, he made up a concoction of tuna juice and other odd odors and then laced the panties with his 'artificial vagina smell'. The men went nuts over it, and he made alot of money.

How many women actually smell like tuna? That is foul. Do they not bathe? When did it become widely accepted that that is what a woman smells like? If a woman's vagina smells like tuna, there is something very wrong.

Perhaps if the gentleman looking for 'artificial vagina smell' invested in some Chicken of the Sea... No. Seriously, back me up here ladies. Women who practice proper personal hygiene, do not smell like the Friday lunch special at the local deli.

Another common search that leads people to this site is 'how do I make my vagina smell and taste good' or some close variation of that very question. For those people, a service announcement. BE CLEAN. Thats all it takes. Your partner will either like the taste of your pussy, or they won't. Theres really not a whole hell of a lot that you can do to change that. Yes, there are flavored sprays out there, but they are often full of sugar which is bad for two reasons. The first: sugar is not Atkins friendly. LOL Is eating pussy worth the extra carbs associated with the flavored sprays? Some diehard Atkins followers may not agree. Second, sugar is not a good thing to add 'down there'. Its a real good way to catch a UTI or yeast infection quicker than you can say Splenda.

Some people can't stand the taste of pussy juice, just like some people can't stand the taste of ejaculate. Theres nothing you can do about that.

I know I've addressed this one before, but its such a common reason people pit stop here, and it goes well with the previous query, so I'll include it. 'How do I make my come taste good?' People have said that eating alot of fruit makes it sweeter, drinking lots of coffee makes it bitter, and eating lots of nuts makes it nuttier. I have dated a vegetarian, a java junkie, and a Mr Peanut supporter. Come tastes like come, tastes like come, tastes like come. Sometimes its more bitter, sometimes its very watery, sometimes it very thick. But the bottom line: it always tastes like come.

It is inevitable that the man will at one point, usually in the heat of passion, ask if his come tastes good. Now, I like to give blow jobs, I like Rick to come in my mouth, and I always swallow. Keeping this in mind, if they came out with a new come flavored beverage like, I dunno, Jism Cola, I would not be hot to buy it. I enjoy come in that it is a passionate exchange between lovers, but don't feel the need to 'consume' it for fun. So does come taste good? Yes and no.

I leave you with one last entertaining search that brought some poor soul to my site.

'how do i jack off/instructions to masterbate'

Yes, I know its spelled wrong. I copied the search exactly. Just think of the things that person saw on these pages.

Question for the day

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one ability or quality,what would it be?

It is Hump day, you know...

Latin Muse

He caught her drawing him yesterday; Jesse’s new neighbor, Carlos, from the small apartment building. The four apartment house had a community wrap around porch. Jesse liked to sit there and do charcoal sketches in the afternoons. Ever since the dark stranger had moved in, she couldn’t stop watching him. She had to draw him.

She thought he was Spanish. Someone said he was Cuban, she hadn’t asked him. She just noticed his accent on the day she ran into him in the hall moving into the apartment next to hers upstairs. His English had not been the best, and she found herself fishing for things to say in broken Spanish. Mostly she had just smiled at him while he and two other guys moved his furniture up the stairs.

He wasn’t very tall. At 5’7, he was the same height as she. He reminded her of a horse jockey. He had broad shoulders, a lean muscles look, and hips that tapered into strong legs. He had a chiseled face with a sharp nose and a mouth so full that it looked out of place among all of his hard surfaces. Damned sexy though. Dark thick hair cut short, curling slightly on the top. Reminded her of that guy Julia Roberts dated a while, Benjamin….well damned sexy.

With her pale skin and long brown hair, Jesse didn’t figure she was much to look at, let alone tempt the exotic man next door. She wore her hair up at all times, had cat eye glasses that covered up how long her eye lashes were, and kept people from noticing how her eyes were really violet. She wore baggy clothes, that hid her large breasts, and hips that curved too much for her and her ass that was too round and either put men off or got too much attention.

Shy. That was what her few friends would say. Jesse is too shy, and doesn’t take the chances that she should. Jesse liked to think of it as just preferring to watch the world through her art. She drew sketches constantly. While at work, while in the park, at restraunts, and especially on the porch while watching her new neighbor.

That’s how he caught her yesterday. He was talking to a beautiful woman on the front steps. She had the same dark skin, and rich hair as he. They were speaking Spanish, and Jesse only understood bits of what they were saying. She had begun tracing his features with her charcoal. Fingers rapidly turning black from blending. She had imagined how it would feel if she could touch his skin the way she touched the paper with the charcoal. She pictured him nude and before she realized it, she had drawn him so using her imagination to fill in the gaps of what she had not seen.

She became so focused on her daydream of touching her neighbor that she only noticed how erotic her drawing was becoming. Unfortunately, it was also the same time he happened to take a hold of the chain of the swing she sat in and look down at her pad.

She flushed deep red, and he smiled like a cat caught eating the canary. “I’ve often wonder what is you draw so much.”

Jesse quickly reached to rip the page out, but his hands caught hers on top of the papers. “Don’t, is okay, ah I like it.”

Jesse looked up at him slowly. She was horrified that he had caught her daydreaming of him this way. She swallowed hard. He was watching her very closely. Taking in every inch of her in a way she was not used to being seen.

He winked at her, and was gone.

That was yesterday. Today she was hiding in her apartment. Music loud, while she worked on a large canvas. She was painting a piece for a friend. A very large scene of an ancient Roman couple. So engrossed in the details, she was oblivious to much else.

She had taken off her art smock. It was hot in the lofty apartment. She was now painting in her small red undershirt that strained to keep her large breasts covered. They spilled out around the top of the shirt, the nipples trying to bounce free of the so-called made in bra of the shirt. Her breasts took up most of the material, making the shirt ride up mid drift. Her cut off shorts were too big and too cut off for public. But she liked the freedom they gave her. One side was cut so high that a round ass cheek peeked out from the bottom. Her hair was spilling out of the loose clip that held it from her face.

So engrossed in details that she had forgotten to lock her door after getting her mail this morning from downstairs. The music so loud she couldn’t hear the knocking. She stood a few yards back from her picture chewing on the end of a paintbrush. She was adding the final touches to the faces today. She had paint on her everywhere. Red from the tunics on her thighs, where she had unconsciously wiped her hands, yellow on her arm from leaning in too far, white across her left breast, and she suspected her face. This was normal for her when she became involved in a project.

When his hand touched her shoulder, she jumped. Whirling around fast, and skidding white paint from the end of the brush across her neighbor’s face. Her mouth dropped open and she flushed again.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “I didn’t hear you come in, what…what are you doing here?” She fidgeted with words as she tried to find something to wipe the paint from his chin.

He wiped at the paint with his own hand, and catching hers before it could touch the white still there. He held it in his own. “I’m sorry, I knock but you do not hear me. Your music…”

“Oh!” Jesse turned to turn down the stereo.

Leaning down and giving him a full view of how short her cutoffs were in the back. When bending down to the stereo, he could see almost the whole half of her round ass. Enough to notice she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Her shirt was too small as well. He enjoyed watching the flimsy straps fight to contain her large breasts. He could tell her baggy clothes hid her figure, but he never imagined she would look like such a sex kitten. He felt a tightening in his own pants, and tried to cool his emotions.

Jesse turned back to him, so embarrassed and shocked to see him there, she still hadn’t remembered that she did not have her smock on to cover her skimpy attire. “Was it bothering you, the music?”

He only smiled at her and looked her down again, “No, I liked it. I come to see your paintings. Oscar downstairs says you paint great things. Can I watch you painting, please?”

Jesse didn’t think she could flush any redder. Painting? Her mind was going blank. She couldn’t be near him without lust riding her senses. He wanted to watch her paint. Okay, no harm in that really. “Ah, sure, have a seat,” she took the brush back in her hand and began to focus on the canvas again.

It was difficult; knowing that he was still there and painting. Schooling herself to calm down, she began to focus again on the picture until she was engrossed in her art again. The music was turned up loud again, but she didn’t notice. Carlos stood behind her watching her paint the Roman man that was beginning to favor him, but she didn’t notice.

He watched her for a long moment. She was painting with quick juts of her brush. Her hands stroked the colors on the man’s bare thigh. He wondered what it would be like for her to stroke him in the same way.

He unbuttoned his shirt and laid it across the chair she had offered him to sit on as she painted. He slipped off his shoes too so she wouldn’t hear him coming up from behind. She looked so sexy stretching up on her toes, paint across her body. He had to touch her.

Jesse was just about to touch gold to the man’s eye when she felt hands around her bare stomach. The hands were warm and gentle. Fingers spanning the bare skin, thumbs running right under the edge of the shirt to touch more skin. She had forgotten her attire. She was suddenly aware at how little she had on, and suddenly realized that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

His chest warmed her back, and those soft lips came down to kiss her neck. Her paint pallet fell back from her hand onto the table. “Carlos…”

He held her tight to him, his hands moving inside her shirt, stroking the flesh under her breasts. “Hmmm?” he continued to kiss her, sucking her flesh in to his mouth, using his tongue to lick and soothe. His hands found the band of the shell bra and moved into it. Fingers were moving to palm her breasts. So large that they spilled out the edges of his hands. He pressed himself against her and let out a low moan.

Jesse closed her eyes for a moment, in shock of what was happening. It was something she wanted, but didn’t think it would actually happen. For a moment she thought she was daydreaming again, until she felt his hard arousal pressing into bare thighs from behind. She tried to pull away and protest. She barely knew him after all.

He reached for her face and kissed her as she turned. All protests went out the window when his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. She wanted him, she had fantasized about him, and now here was her chance to see what it would be like to give in to her own fantasy.

She kissed him back. Licking at his tongue, running her hands over the lean muscles in his arms, exploring his back with her nails. The paintbrush falling to the floor, her shorts and shirt quickly after.

He undressed her before she could catch her breath. She let him, needed him to do so. She reached for the fly of his pants, undid them and reached to free him as his jeans slid to the floor. He stood erect in her hand; longer than she had seen before, and with a curve.

He pinned her to the wall beside the bay window. His hands gripping her breasts in firm hands. He squeezed each nipple into hard points while kissing her. His thigh pressing between hers.

Jesse put her arms around his neck and jumped to wrap her legs around his waist. He held her there, pinned against the wall, her round ass just above his hardness. He held her there like she weighed nothing, his thighs holding her in place, as he slid his hands down to cup her ass.

He began speaking in Spanish. She didn’t understand all of what his said. Bonita, amore, te quiero, basame….phrases and pieces. His accent making his tongue roll before flicking at her ear. Her body tingling all over. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him. She could feel the head of his penis brushing the outside of her pussy. She moaned in frustration, rocking her hips to urge him to enter her soon.

His hands on her rear, guided her onto his waiting hardness. He positioned her onto him then let her go. Her body fell onto him, as he pinned her hard into the wall. He held onto her ass, his fingers kneading the flesh as their hips moved together.

Jesse felt him stretch her and touch the top of her womb. It was an amazing feeling. He began moving fast inside of her, fucking her hard while pressing her up against the wall. She held on to his waist with her legs, riding him by rocking her body and pressing her shoulders into the wall.

He reached between them and sucked one hard nipple into his mouth, feeling exploding inside of her. She leaned her head back and cried out as his teeth scraped the sensitive bud.

Their rhythm began matching the thudding base on the music that was masking their loud cries as they made love. Carlos bit at her lips, making them fuller while thrusting into her. Jesse biting back, knicking his shoulder, sucking on his ear. The paint on her hands, smearing on his back and his chest.

Suddenly, he moved. Taking her with him and sitting her on the small kitchen counter. Pulling out of her wet pussy, he dove between her legs. Putting her legs around his shoulders and nuzzling his face into her hot pussy. He licked at her clit, sucking it into his mouth. She dug her nails into his shoulders, and leaned back to give him better access.

He sucked and nipped at her until he felt her begin to shake. She gripped his head with her hands, pressing his face closer inside of her. She screamed. Her thighs tightening around his face. He scooped his hands around her ass cheeks, gripping them into her face.

When she slumped back into the cabinets, he pulled his face away. He kissed a trail up her stomach until he locked her into a kiss again. Jesse kissed him hungrily, her body still wired from her recent climax. Instead of satisfying her, she only wanted more. She slid off the counter, pressed into him. She could feel him hard against her thigh.

He turned her in his arms. Her ass pressed against his arousal again. He held onto to her by her large breasts and began to push her down to the floor. They fell on their knees together, and he bent her to all fours.

There he took her from behind, gripping her shoulders and thrusting hard inside. He took her in long hard strokes, pulling all the way out, then slamming back in. He pressed her face lower to the ground, making her ass stand up higher as he picked up the pace.

He fucked her hard, gripping her breasts until he cried out with his own release. Falling over on top of her, and fingering her sensitive clit until she came again with his cock still inside of her.

They lay on the floor panting in each other’s arms. Paint all over their bodies, and the music switching to a slow song on the CD.

Jesse noticed the contrast of their skin and thought it beautiful the bronze and the white limbs entwined. She lay in her lover’s arms trying to think of what to say that he would understand. He was doing the same while stroking her back as they lay on the floor. He pulled her on top of him. His hands stroking her ass, guiding her down to where he was already growing hard again.

He smiled at her, as he thrust up and into her from underneath. She sank down on him, enjoying the feeling of his sliding so sleekly back in. It was going to be a long, inspiring day.

Educate me, my ears are at full attention. Whats so special about Gmail? The address I use on my profile isn't my 'real address'. Just a free account I opened so you guys could drop me a line and tell me how much you love me. ;) I've had people tell me they could give me Gmail accounts before, but I suppose my ignorance on the sheer greatness of the account kept me from taking them up on the offer. So tell me all about Gmail! 

Plea for help

Date:
Sun, 26 Sep 2004 11:20:03 -0800
From:
Michael Dede [ Add to Address Book Block Address Report as Spam ]
To:

Subject:
From me, Michael

23, Ashogbon Street
Bariga, Lagos State
Tel: +234-802-357-1577

GOOD DAY TO YOU.

I am sending you this private email to make a passionate appeal to you for assistance. Kindly accept my apology for contacting you this way and forgive me if this is not acceptable to you.My name is Michael Dede, the son of late Dr. Samuel Dede who died on November 15, 2003. I was actually born out of wedlock and my father never married my mother. I grew up in an orphanage home. I never knew my mother who I understand abandoned me with the owner of the orphange home. I am still a student of University of Lagos, even though I am almost dropping out of school. I want you to help me in receiving my late father's money in your account as his next of kin.I am contacting you because of my need to deal with persons whom I have had no previous personal relationship. The woman, my step mother chased me out of the family house after the burial of my father in December 2003. My step mother and her children have never hidden their hatred of me as my father never told them of my existence until the day I appeared at his front door. I am now contacting you because of the good news I received from my father's Accountant today. He informed me that three days before my father's death, my father visited his office and informed him that he just deposited the sum of $18 million US Dollars with a Financial Institution, FORUM BANK and would want that detail added to his assets and forwarded to his lawyer to add to his already written will as a codicil. The Accountant was yet to have this information sent to the lawyer when my father suddenly died. He said he has made enquiries and is convinced that my step mother and children do not know of the existence of that money. He said he was giving me this information because of his sympathy to my cross.I have since been to the bank and have confirmed that the money actually exist. I made enquiries on how I could get the money released to me and was informed that I should go and process a letter of administration from the appropriate probate registry. I have decided not to do it in my name. I am just 23 years old and my step mother and her children will be suspicious of my sudden wealth.They could kill me for the money if they ever found out. I therefore want you to assist me to process it in your name. That way the money would be transferred into your account abroad directly from here. Once this money is transferred into your account, I will like you to send 10% to my father's accountant as a gift from me for assisting me with the information, take 30% for yourself and help me invest the balance in a profitable business in your country. Most importantly, I will like you to help me get out of this country and come and live in your country. This is why I am contacting you for assistance. I hope I have not asked for too much.I have all the details that we shall need to proceed, such as the bank's address and contact details, as well as the original certificate of deposit which the Accountant graciously released to me. It is clear from the above that we would need the services of an attorney to process the much needed certificate of administration for the transfer of my father's money to your account. That would not be a problem because there are so many lawyers here that would understand the need to maintain absolute confidentiality while they process the relevant documents in your name and on your behalf. As soon as I get a response from you, I shall take necessary steps to make a proper recommendation. I also ask that you please keep all I have told you confidential and strictly between the two of us.

Please call me on Tel: +234-802-357-1577 as soon as you receive this email. You can send your response to my email address if you cannot call right away.I will be waiting for your response.

MICHAEL DEDE

Tel: +234-802-357-1577

I have never in my life received so many scam emails until I posted my email address in my Blogger profile. Which one of you monkeys keeps sending me this crap? ;)

Flunkie

Well, I failed my pregnancy test today. Bummer. And I studied so hard! lol Luckily, I enjoy extra credit, and will surely make up that failing grade soon.

I hope this doesn't affect my grade point average...

Star Wars Confession

All the hype about Star Wars this week, what with the release of the trilogy on DVD, has left me rather curious. That brings me to my Star Wars confession:

I have never seen any of the three original movies.

(do you hear that? thats the sound of the SW junkies fainting at my confession. we'll just give them a moment to gether themselves back up.)

I saw Episode 2 when I was nine months pregnant. I enjoyed it, and thought I might like Episode 3. Did that one ever come out? *blushing* I know nothing of the Star Wars saga.

And actually, remember a few years back when they re-released the original movies in theaters? We went to see the second one, I think, with friends, but I fell asleep about 10 minutes in. It was a midnight show, and I had just gotten off a 16 hour shift at the emergency clinic.

Theres my confession. Whew! So much easier not to pretend I know what the hell you guys are talking about! lol

Mind Probe

If you were able to live to the age of 100 and retain either the body or the mind of a 30 year old for the last 70 years of your life, which would you want?

Moonlight Serenade

It had been a long day. Bailey was tense, worn, and couldn't sleep. She lay in bed listening to the sounds of the house. The whirring of the fan above her bed, the distant hum of the dish washer from the kitchen, and what sounded like a little storm beginning to rumble in from somewhere outside. She couldn't stop thinking about the day. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Maybe the day would have been okay if it hadn't been combined with mixed feelings about David.

Things had been going very well. They had even talked about moving in together. Inseparable for the past six months, the longest time in their three years of off and on relationship. Now a month without a word from him, she did not understand.

With David it was raw passion. He was like an addiction to her. One touch, one smile, one kiss—good God!

Bailey flipped onto her back ungracefully atop of her bed. The sheet falling off completely now exposing her naked body to the moonlight. She despised sleeping in clothes. Didn't like to feel anything around her body when she tossed and turned, unless it was David. She let out a loud groan. She wished he would just get out of her head. Giving up on sleep, she jumped out of bed.

The clock in the kitchen said 3am as she padded through on her way to the great room. She needed release. She needed relief from this dull lonely ache. He had been gone for a month. She heard he was back in Texas on a job. He hadn't told her, just left.

Bailey strode through the empty house, the lightening of the storm forming flashed outside through the French doors of the great room. A flash of smooth alabaster skin, a rounded curvature of large breasts bouncing gently with her steps, and the round of her bare ass as she strode across the room. There, off to itself, was her old friend. The black baby grand piano sitting unadorned at the end of her living room.

She smiled at the black monster, his white teeth flashing at her. A sense of release went through her, a slight flutter of a smile. She always played when she was lonely, angry, mad, scared...the ivory keys of the black beauty were the windows to her soul.

She caressed the black keys with the back of her long fingers as she sat down on the leather bench. It was a silent greeting between two friends. The storm picked up outside. She watched it a moment, seeing her reflection in the window in one flash. Her wavy brown hair down around her shoulders and breasts in a rare release from hair clips. Soft lips, full and turned down sadly reflecting the sadness in her eyes. She thought of David again. The way he felt sleeping beside her. The way he smiled after he kissed her. The last things he had said to her after making love in bed. The feel of him sliding inside of her in the early morning hours.

Her heart ached. She closed her eyes and touched the keys.

It had been easy to get lost in the music growing up. Not a classical musician, she wrote from the heart and played through her soul. She chose a chord that fit her mood, and began encouraging it to grow. Tinkling into a second progression, then a third, she felt a song coming on. A sad ballad she was playing, but it seemed to release those demons. She closed her eyes and began swaying with the music. Hair in her face, hips rocking as she pressed the peddle, rocking her body as she pounded out her troubles.

The chords became a medley in her head, and she began humming what would be a verse one day. She tuned out the storm, tuned out her racing mind, and let words come out into the open humid air in the empty house on a hot Southern night.

She didn't hear him come in. He was sure of it, she was still playing. David sat his keys down in the large overstuffed chair. He was soaking wet. Had been walking all night when the rains came. He was caught near her house in the down pour. He thought it a sign that he should come inside. Wasn't sure if he would be invited, but he had to try.

There she was at that piano. She would rarely play it for anyone, it was a private lover in her life. He had heard her only a few times. An intimate concert one time a year ago, before they had exchanged hard words and not spoken for 3 months.

He listened to her. Imagining her sitting there in one of her silk pajama suits she wore around the house. He was afraid to go in there, afraid she would stop and he wanted to just enjoy feeling her near for a little while. She was his anchor. He had fucked up this time and he knew it. He got scared, had a job offer in Texas, felt closed in here and had gone. He was always fucking up with her. It was a pattern in his life. But a pattern that he clung to nonetheless. She was always there, he always was somewhere, and he came back everytime. It scared the hell out of him that he needed her. He tried hard not to need anybody. But not this time. Silently he slipped off his shoes, his wet shirt and slipped inside the living room.

The sight that met him was hard to believe. There were no lights on in the house. Only the lights outside through the windows and the lightning flashing in the sky. From the other side of the room, there was Bailey playing that piano, but not like he had ever seen her play it before. She was playing a hard progression of chords, fingers moving lightening fast, one leg pumping the pedal below, the other flung across the side of the leather stool at a wide angle. She was rocking like a goddess riding a wild horse, and most alluring of all....she was completely naked.

His heart stopped, his breath stopped. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. The tight pull in his wet pants told him that it was decidedly so. She was singing. A low soulful sound coming from her full lips. Her eyes were closed, and her head was tossed back, her long hair swishing down her back hiding the small tattoo of a clover he knew was on her right shoulder.

Suddenly she began singing louder a blues song, as she rocked to the music. David drew nearer to her. He had to touch her.

She was lost in the music, lost in a way he had only seen her be when they made love. He felt like he was watching her make love to that piano, and a possessive jealousy came into him. Her head bowed over the keys again, her song turning soft and slow again, the rhythm flowing easily. He reached and touched a lock of hair, curling it around his hand.

She was humming; it was hypnotic. He leaned in carefully, trying not to break the spell that she was weaving. Just close enough to feel her warmth, then he kissed her throat.

Bailey was playing her heart out, the pain she felt easing a little as she let it explode out in music. It wasn't helping though. She could still feel him. She could feel his lips on her throat, his hand in her hair. It felt so good. Another hand on her hip, she closed her eyes tighter and played hard again. This was madness, it was like he was there with her.

David licked and sucked along her neck, his hand stroking her cheek while the other caressed her hip. She was humming still, and he stifled a groan as he went down to his knees.

Bailey became aware she wasn't having a fantasy when she felt David's first kiss on her inner thigh. Her eyes flew open just as he planted himself between the bench and the piano between her thighs.

She looked down at him, his hands opening her wide, his tongue gliding along her inner thigh. She was too stunned to move. She had forgotten that he still had a key. Before her anger could turn on in her head over his last leave of absence, he closed off all common sense when he said, "Bailey don't stop."

Dumbfounded, and drugged by having exactly what she wanted suddenly there, she honored the request. She began playing again, as his tongue found her core and nuzzled in to taste her. He kissed her clit, like he was kissing her mouth, swirling around and drawing it inside his own lips. His hands kneading her ass checks on the leather of the bench.

Bailey closed her eyes and played. Her body rocking to the rhythm of the music and the rhythm that David was making inside of her. Such an intense combination, it made her feel mindless with pleasure.

The heartache that had her up at 3 am was being replaced by a confused fulfillment to the need she was feeling. She played on.

David held himself to her hips as she played. The passion he was building inside of her being expressed across the ivory keys. Her music was making his need of her stronger. He licked at her outer lips, as one hand moved to stroke her there. He moved his face lower, when she rocked back onto the seat. As she played a high section, he slid his tongue into her wet hot hole. He felt like he was finally coming home. Her taste sliding into his mouth, her scent surrounding him, he knew this time he would not let her go.

It was a sad song she was playing. It was about him, he could tell from the way she had sung before he had made himself known. He couldn't get enough of her at one time. He wanted to make her happy, wanted this song to have a loving tone.

They played on. Bailey gliding up and down the keys in musical expression, and David taking her into his mouth and sucking at her most intimate areas both trying to find a way of feeling whole.

Her humming became a gentle panting. She lifted her hips from the seat, and tried to hold the high part of the song. Small surges were sparking through her, building up tighter and tighter. She reached down with her left hand and touched his hair, his jaw. Her right hand playing a light melody when she felt the coil roll inside.

Opening her mouth, the release so strong, it held in her throat for the longest of time. She held a high note with her pinky, then cried out, when her left hand joined in again from the other side. She played strong chords as she climaxed, grinding her hips onto her lover's face as he drank from her until she had no more.

She fell over onto the keys, David moving to pull her into his arms.

She was catching her breath and trying to not cry. He held her face tenderly, and kissed her mouth, her taste mingling between their tongues.

He reflected how good it felt to be with her. He told her as much, with his head pressed between her breasts as she sat on that leather stool that night, him between her thighs. They talked into the morning, and made love on the leather bench as the storm cleared out of the sky. He held her, straddled around his lap, her head on his shoulder as they came together one more time. His naked angel. He would reflect one day on the moment that made things right, the moment he knew where he wanted to be. As an old man, he would still see the ghost of her naked in the moonlight, playing medleys with closed eyes.

Breath of Fresh Air

Last week, I got an interesting email from a film maker. With his permission, I'll share what he wrote:


To:

Subject:
I made this for you

Dear Good Wife,

When I made "Marie and Jack: A Hardcore Love Story" I wanted it to be a celebration of sex in
marriage. I think you were exactly the person I was making for!

Regards,
T.C.Comstock

FilmsReal Life, Real People, Real Sex
http://www.comstockfilms.com

Upon checking out the link he sent, I was met with a surplus of raving reviews on his film. I was definetly intrigued. What a fascinating concept!

I received a package in the mail yesterday. It was "Marie and Jack". Today I watched it, and wow. Seriously, wow.

I enjoy porn. Don't we all? But this was not like any other sex scene I have ever seen. It truly felt as if you were given front row seats to watch a wonderful couple, deeply and passionately envolved with eachother, make love. No fake, strained lines. No awkward angles to allow for the 'money shot'. I was washed over in happiness watching these two people who so obviously love each other so much.

You are also given the never before seen interview with the couple, where they talk about their relationship and explain how vastly different their sex life is from that which they do in front of the camera. Its amazing. It puts a real life human being behind the names.

I love this film. For those men out there who are wondering what type of adult video to watch with your wife, this is most definetly the one. This is a must for every home video library.

The DVD also has a special feature where you can "choose your camera angle", watching the scenes as you see fit. How spiffy is that?

I want to thank Mr Comstock for exposing me to his wonderful film. I look foward to seeing more of your work. This is exactly how sex should be enjoyed!

Flatter and you shall be recognized

This deserves the daylight it wouldn't receive sitting in the comments section.

At 9:37 AM, Patrick H. said…
To the tune of CCR's "Midnight Special" And I apologize in advance to those musical sages, but I've been up all night and I tend to do poetry on the fly, like that which follows......

If you're ever in Houston
Come see me in the night
A paddle and a floggerI'll set you up right

We'll take two or three hours
Oh, I'll turn your butt red
Like the prettiest flowers
Then we'll tuck you in bed

Yonder comes Miss Good Wife
I'm happy she done showed
Got my evil old dom-toys
And away we go

Leather 'cross her bottom
Tease her tattoo with my hand
What a hell of an evenin'
My oh my, how grand!

...........

So sue me for poeming without a license, but what the hell, I had fun anyhow.

Whew! Is it warm in here? *fanning self* lol Thank you Patrick!! You've made my day! ;)

xoxo

Kodak Moment

I had planned on getting Rick a digital camera for Christmas this year, but ended up deciding I couldn't wait that long to take dirty pictures with the safety of a memory card. lol Not knowing what to look for in a good camera, I took him shopping with me so he could pick it out. We got a Canon something or other. All I know is that it has excellent zoom and lots of great extra features. Theres your totally girlified answer to the person who was sure to ask which camera we got.

We hadn't had it 24 hours yet when I practiced taking a few boob shots for Rick to find when he browsed through the pictures he had taken. He appreciated the surprise.

I made several comments about taking naughty pictures with the camera, waiting for Rick to catch on and play along. I thought he'd never take me up on my offer when he finally surprised me Saturday night.

He stood behind me as I approached the bed, rubbing my shoulders under his strong hands. As I began to climb into bed, his arm wrapped under my tummy as his other hand pressed my back gently downwards. My head and chest rested on the bed with my bottom up, high in the air.

I felt his fingers brush against my slit.

"I'm going to take a picture of your pussy." Those simple words excited me to no end. I tried not to giggle as I heard the *ding* of the camera being turned on.

*Click*

"Mmmm...Thats nice," he purred, his fingers gently pinching my lips, as if to mold them in preparation for the perfect photo. "Your pussy is opening for me," he says as he prepares to take another picture. I can feel myself getting very wet.

*Click*

He scoots close to me on the bed. I feel his skin against my own, and know he must have stripped while my head was preoccupied with the excitement of it all.

His cock pushes up against me.

"I'm going to take a picture of my dick fucking your pussy." His narration is driving me wild, anxious to hear what hes to do next. I feel him slip inside of me.

*Click*

I moan.

"Do that again," he instructs. I do. I moan as he fucks me.

*Ding* I hear the playback of sex, skin slapping against skin and wetness, followed by my moans. It is a nifty little camera....

"Turn around."

I want to stay where I am and be fucked, but I stop and obey. As I do, Rick lays down on the bed, dick pulsing an odd beat. I can't resist it, and am soon sucking him.

*Click*

*Click*

*Click*

I wonder what the pictures will look like.

"Sit on my dick."

One last slurp and I climb up the length of his body, his cock making a wet trail down my belly as it finds the nook where my two lips meet.

I ride him.

*Click*

My breasts sway, desperate to be touched, but his hands are busy with his camera, the eerie blue light illuminating his face. I sit up and run my fingers up my body, finding the heavy fullness that are my breasts. I pinch my nipples.

*Click*

"Fuck, thats hot. You're gonna make me come."

I do. He does. Smiles.

"Give me your camera," I say.

I find his face in the screen.

*Click*

I've captured ecstasy on a memory card.

Quick Note

First of all, thanks for all the Happy Birthday wishes to Rick. He did have a good birthday, and got a digital camera as a gift. More on that tomorrow. (ahh, the suspense! :)

I want it to be said that I do not lose any sleep over Rick's dad. I never even think of the retched scum, until birthday and Christmas cards come along, and even then, its not much more than a quick recognition. I am a very happy person, and lead an extremely fufilling life. I'm not affected at all by not having Rick's family in my life.

Lots of talk of forgiveness! I understand the sentiment, and its all well and good, but I just don't see how its my place to forgive him. I believe thats up to a much higher power than myself. Truth is, I don't forgive him. How could I possibly forgive what he has done, not only to me, but the threats he has made against his own son? If anyone wants to throw around the words 'wicked' or 'evil', how about save it for him? Keep in mind though, I don't walk around feeling miserable and full of hatred. Thats not my way of doing things. Like I said, I never even think of the man, so there is no energy spent on wishing him pain. Honestly, I only wish the horrible things he did never happened.

B, you most assuredly did not offend me, darling. And I want to thank Stuckfornow, Alex, WT, Fireresq, Patrick, Mike, and Mr B, along with those of you who wrote me emails supporting me and offering kind words. I love you guys! :)

WT, is there such a thing as being too successful??

Rick's grandmother sent him a birthday card with a long message about how our estrangement from his parents is just killing his dad. That just talking about us makes him cry and have to change the subject. Hes sad, depressed, wah wah wah wah wah. Is it wrong that hearing that made my day? lol I'm sure shes overexaggerating, but the thought of Rick's dad being in any sort of pain just amuses me to no end. Is that bad? Maybe I need a spanking... 

Mind Probe

Do you think the world will be a better or worse place, 100 years from now?

Dicks on Parade

Big ones, little ones, fat ones, skinny ones, all attached to disgusting hoosiers who look like they haven't bathed in about a month.

Our neighbor is having their deck extended partially around the side of their house. I have the lovely view of the less than attractive workers through our bay window where I like to sit and read.

They weren't there more than ten minutes this morning when one of them whips out their dick and starts to piss, doing nothing to try and hide what he was doing. Okay. Thrity minutes later and another guy is whipping it out while he talks to a guy thats sitting down and eating, doing what looks like figure eights with his stream.

Having had enough of the show, I go to the kitchen where I am wiping down the counters when I see out of the corner of my eye another 'worker', peeing in our neighbors rose bushes. This one was unique. He looked to be jacking off as he peed, stroking himself as he emptied his bladder. Interesting, but gross nonetheless.

These guys must have UTI's, or maybe prostate problems, I dunno. I like that over the excuse that they are just disgusting guys, running around showing off their dick size and marking their territory. I believe I'll be closing the curtains in the meantime.

Stitch in time....and Rick too

I was in the middle of a post yesterday, when I got a call from Rick. He had sliced his finger open at work and was on his way home so we could have it looked at and potentialy get stitches. Stitches? Surely he was over reacting.

It didn't take him long to get home, and I was expecting little more than a severe paper cut. Hes not very stoic about all things pain related, so again, I assumed he was over reacting.

He had his finger wrapped in paper towels and tape, poor man's wrap, I suppose. lol I already had out the peroxide, neosporin, gauze and wrap. Then he unwrapped his finger.

"It doesn't look that bad," I say. It really did look like a bad paper cut.

"Yeah, but look at this," he says, lifting a huge chunk of finger up with the skin flap that appeared to be the previously noted paper cut.

"Oh..." Hard swallow, pushing breakfast back down to my stomach.

"And look, theres finger guts hanging out of it," pointing to the bloody mush poking out through the gaping wound.

"Okay! Enough!" And to the doctor we went.

He got six stitches. Let me rephrase that. He got six of the crappiest looking hack job stitches I have ever seen. Quite a mess. Rick agreed that I could have done a better job, having seen my handy work in the past. Regardless, the finger guts were put back in place, and the flap closed. Thats whats important.

Thank you for those who checked up on me and wondered where I was. Very sweet, I appreciate the thought. :)

And I'm happy about the well received post before this one as well. You all flatter me to no end, thank you! I love it! ;) I have to admit, when an English teacher rates my work so well, I get an extra special giddy feeling inside. lol Thank you, loves!

xoxoxoxoxo

One

He climbed into bed smelling of sweet cologne and what the soap company would have us to believe Irish springs smelled like. I placed my hand on his face and kissed his lips, my nose recognizing the shave gel aroma and then the minty freshness of his toothpaste. All these scents mixed together and mingled in the air, surrounding me with his presence. I felt as if the entire room was embracing me with his warmth.

"You smell yummy," he whispered into my ear.

"I do?" I acted surprised. He complimented me on my fragrance when it was he who conquered my olfactory. I dared not let on the time and thought I had spent hoping to get the very compliment he had bestowed upon me. From the delicately scented soap, to the carefully chosen body lotion, there was not the single glimmer of coincidence in the bouquet I had made of my body.

We lay next to each other, drawing in the other's essence.

Kisses.

Rough fingers slid up and down my leg in a serpentine movement, my breathing slowing in anticipation of where he may touch next. His chest tightly against mine, I felt the thumping of his heart against my breasts. His life force, the core of him, the organ we associate with love and passion was pounding out its beat, reverberating off the soft flesh of my bosom. The symbolism nearly taking my breath away.

More kisses.

Those rough fingers soon found my sex and wasted no time with subtle introductions. One swift movement and I felt them writhing about inside of me, motioning and pointing, as if giving my walls and clit directions of when and how to come. My breath quickened and tiny moans escaped me.

"You're so wet," he purred, as he slid those fingers out of me before sucking the glistening juices off. One of his fingers rested on my lip, urging but not forcing my mouth to let it in. I did. His finger was warm and wet, both from his mouth and from its previous affair with my pussy. I could smell the tiniest hint of myself on him, a musky sweetness with a longing undertone.

More kisses.

I could taste myself in his mouth, the flavor matching the aroma perfectly. My fingers ran through his hair, entwining themselves in the silky softness before trailing down his neck and finding the strong muscles of his back. I kneaded those strong, thick muscles through his soft skin and made delicate trails with my finger nails, instantly cropping up goosebumps along the terrain.

Soon he towered over me. I knew what was coming, and my pussy quivered in anticipation. As he leaned down for a kiss, I felt the tip of his cock gently parting my lips. He stayed in this position, an agonizing moment frozen in time while I held my breath, afraid that breathing may make the wait even longer.

In a sharp, jolting instant, we were one. I wrapped myself tightly around him, our breaths matched and heart beats pounding in synch. His arms encased me closer still, our bodies only separating enough to accomadate his forceful impalement. We were so connected, so engaged in pleasuring each other that I could have easily cried, having been overwhelmed by the deepness of the interaction.

Instead, the release was made through the waves of an intense orgasm. As I neared the end of my climax, I felt him explode against my walls, coaxing them along for the ride. Another round of pleasurable contractions.

More kisses.

We lay, still tightly embraced, and still connected together as one erotic entity.

Proceeding with caution

It is undeniably funny that now that Rick and I have decided to start trying for a second baby, I have suddenly gotten shy about sex. Well, not shy, thats not the word I was looking for. I guess I've become suddenly aware of the sheer amount of sex we have, and am desperatly trying to make sure that I don't bore Rick to death with it.

This isn't coming out right. Can you feel my frustration? lol Perhaps a short conception lesson would make my point more clear.

Stating the obvious here, but there is an extremely short window of opportunity each month to get pregnant. The sperm has to be ready and waiting for the egg to make her ever so brief appearance before she disappears, never to be seen again. That being said, when you know when you are due to ovulate, there is a mad rush to have sex as much as possible, increasing the chances of baby making.

I am a very impatient person, in case you couldn't tell, and so upon the decision to start for baby #2, I wanted to be pregnant immediatly. Thats unrealistic, really. But it doesn't mean that I'm not trying. This is why I'm afraid I'll bore Rick of sex. I know what days we are supposed to have sex, and though we may have had sex that night anyway, I tend to feel as though I'm forcing him, or that I'm making sex a chore. Thats not to say that Rick is acting bored. In fact, we have had some extremely intense love making sessions as of late. I suppose insecurities have to show their ugly heads somewhere.

Its stupid, really.

Gosh, I had forgotten how different sex is without Rick withdrawing to come. Its so much more bonding and intimate this way, not to mention the entirely different sensations. Thank God for baby making! lol

I can't help but think that this is a bad time for me to approach Rick about the whole domination thing. I'm not sure how he would feel saying the dirty things I love to hear, or doing the naughty things I love to do while I am with child. Does that make sense? Maybe I'm over thinking it, or maybe I'm just thinking of excuses not to have to have the talk. Things that make you go "Hmmmmm".

Beware the Vikings

Wow. This is a MUST read.

Not that this is the only day we should be thinking about this, and recognizing the heros who saved and gave life, but I thought it appropriate to share today on the 9/11 anniversary. 

Hey, Good Lookin'!

"Its Friday night, and the mood is right. Gonna have some fun, show you how its done, TGIF!"

Do you remember that song? Advertising the TGIF line up on ABC? Every time I hear someone say "TGIF", that song instantly runs through my mind.

So, we pile into the car and decide to grab some Chinese food and a movie to watch after the baby goes to bed. Rick goes into the restaurant to order our food, and I stay in the car with the boy. We have this neat little gizmo that attaches to the rear view mirror, that looks just like a miniature rear view mirror, that lets you watch the baby in the back seat more easily when you're driving. He watches me in the mirror as well, and when I catch him making funny faces at me, I smile back and wink, etc.

We're sitting in the car waiting for Rick, parked directly in front of the restaurant, with a clear view of the people inside eating or waiting for their food. I notice the baby making faces at me, so I start winking, smiling and waving to him via the mirror, as I always do. Two minutes later, a man walks up to my window, smiling at me and holding a business card. I crack the window, curious what he wants.

Guy: Hi. (smiling and offering his card)

Me: Hi. (quizzically looking at his hand, holding his card)

Guy: Whats a hot girl like you doing, babysitting on a Friday night? (fingers insistant on handing me his card)

Me: (laughing as Rick comes out to the car) Thats my son, and hes my husband. (pointing to Rick)

Guy: Then why were you flirting with me through the restaurant window? (looking confused and finally putting his card away)

Me: I was making faces at my son through the little mirror, I'm sorry...(pointing to mirror)

When he finally walked away, I burst out in laughter, my ears and cheeks hot and blushing with embarrassment as I explained to my darling husband what had happened. Too funny. Sorry restaurant guy. But thank you for making me feel like a hot mama! :)

And last, but not least, after eating our dinner, I cracked open a fortune cookie that had what I believe to be perhaps the most profound fortune cookie fortune ever. The fortune read, and I quote, "You enjoy Chinese food." LOL! Are you kidding me? Must have been a slow day at the fortune cookie fortune writing place.

Mind Probe

If you could spend one year in perfect happiness but afterward would remember nothing of the experience, would you do so? If not, why not?

Follow up:

Which is more important: actual experiences, or the memories that remain when the experiences are over?

If I had known you were coming, I'd have baked a cake..

Wow. I need to thank Aphrodite over at Erosblog for linking to this humble little site yesterday. We jumped from about 600 hits a day to just a hair under 3,000 yesterday. Thank you, love!! I hope some of the new visitors decide to come back often!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the helpful comments I received! I want to try and answer all the questions you guys asked. First of all, let me begin by saying that I have nothing against masturbation. Except, that is, when its taking away from my sex life.

When Rick takes matters into his own hands, he has no desire, or need to be with me. Why would he? He got his, and as someone else stated, hes ready for a nap. Unless I did something out of the ordinary, it would be quite awhile before he would be ready to be intimate again. This is when I feel cheated, or perhaps undesirable.

Now, the incident where he was jerking off in bed, to the point of waking me up. That just hurt. Honestly, if he woke up in the middle of the night, and was so horny that he just had to get off, I would LOVE it if he were to wake me up to take part. I am always ready and willing for sex, and have NEVER turned him down.

Like many of the other women who posted, I too love to watch a man masturbate. Its a hot, intimate moment, and gets me very excited. And yes, I have watched Rick masturbate, and I also masturbate in front of him which has always proven to get him equally excited. I'm not ashamed of it at all. I think Rick is though, as he seems to be rather secretive about it when doing it on the side. That is, as long as no decorative pillows are involved. *mourn*

I know I need to talk to him, its just a matter of warming him up to the discussuion, and of course, deciding what to say and how.

Yes, its true that women can masturbate and immediately go straight into intercourse, ready for more. A curse or a blessing? I suppose that depends on the evenings events.

I also agree that self play before sex is a huge turn on. Its voyeuristic and self indulgent at the same time. It also doesn't take long for Rick to quickly take over or assist when I touch myself in front of him.

Mike K, the aphrodisiac properties of Algebra are highly overrated. lol

Ellington Fan, LOL. Thanks for the tips!

Have I answered everybody? I did get some helpful advice here, and I am grateful for all the comments and encouragement. Did you guys see this comment:

At 8:57 AM, Anonymous said…
I have NEVER touched myself in an unpure way, and I hope you aren't implying that you are your husband have done that. That is a sin against Jesus Christ OUr Lord. Has anyone told you how to get to heaven? You are on the wrong track here, its sad. You are Satan's pawn, wrangling in married men and women, making them, forcing them to have impure thoughts and feelings. How would you feel if you knew that someone read your smut and then touched themselves before our Lord? Or cheated on theri spouse, because of the seed of evil you have planted. Satan is working through you, inspiring impure sex between married couples. This is evil. Do you know that only your husband is to see you naked? And you show yourself to all who stumble here? For what? Because Satan wants the men and women who read this sight and lust over you, and do impure things, inspired by your writing and photos. Why do you allow such evil??? Only prayer can save you. Satan won't let go of your lustful soul without prayer. Hes only afraid of God. These men reading your site will begin to expect sex from you. Thats what you advertise, and they will come to collect. Thats what Satan does to lustful whores. Then what? How many children will be born out of sin? Their souls doomed by Satan, the ruler of your lustful life. Sex with the mouth and the rectum are forbidden. They are works of Satan. Why does he rule your life so? When did you become possesed? Profess your love to God through abstinence. You don't deserve to bring another child into this world. Only to be eaten up by Satan. You must give up your lustful behaviour to cleanse yourself before God. I pray for God to make your womb forever barren. Show him your love and stop Satan. Its a good life without him. You need to see that.

I don't think I even need to say a word about this, its stupidity tends to speak for itself. And you thought Christians were nice! lol How many souls has this site sent to Satan so far? I should get a counter for just that purpose...

Jacob, age 92, and Rebecca, age 89, living in Florida, are all excited about their decision to get married. They go for a stroll to discuss the wedding and on the way they pass a drugstore. Jacob suggests they go in.

Jacob addresses the man behind the counter:"Are you the owner?"

The pharmacist answers "Yes"

Jacob: "We're about to get married. Do you sell heart medication?"

Pharmacist: "Of course we do."

Jacob: "How about medicine for circulation?"

Pharmacist: "All kinds."

Jacob: "Medicine for rheumatism, scoliosis?"

Pharmacist: "Definitely."

Jacob: "How about Viagra?"

Pharmacist: "Of course."

Jacob: "Medicine for memory problems, arthritis, Jaundice?"

Pharmacist: "Yes, a large variety. The works."

Jacob: "What about vitamins, sleeping pills,Geritol, antidotes for Parkinson's disease?"

Pharmacist: "Absolutely."

Jacob: "You sell wheelchairs and walkers?"

Pharmacist: "All speeds and sizes."

Jacob says to the pharmacist: "We'd like to use this store as ourBridal Registry."

Do you care? I mean, really, tell me honestly. How do you feel when your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend masturbates? Does it bother you? How do you feel about it? It seems like women get hurt, and men get turned on. lol Am I right? Also, do you generally even know if your other half practices self love, and if so, how do you know? I wonder if the responses will match the stereotype.....You guys tend to surprise me every now and then... :) 

Doin' Mama Proud

'I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken tonight!'

'Naked Pinata Night'

'Zzzzzz...grope...Zzzzzzz...grope....Zzzzzzz'


Stupid people make for interesting news, don't they?

Part 3 of the Nana Series, Now Available!!

If you read the first two, and even if you haven't, you should check out wilde_thought's new installment. (links to part one and two are readily available as well) Also, my laziness insists that I refer to wild_thought as WT, as its shorter, easier to type and seems more like a name. And now you know.

Busy Weekend!

Goodness! This weekend was just filled with constant activities! I'm actually glad its over, and things are back to normal. It was fun, but I'm glad its over. lol

We spent Saturday at Johnson's Shut Ins, which was gorgeous and, as always, fun. Not the beach, but the water is crystal clear and felt nice. I may try to post a photo or two later today. Yesterday we went to a county fair and airshow, which was kind of neat.... Rick and the baby enjoyed it much more than mommy did. :)

No wild and crazy sex to report. Too many activities, I was pooped!

So rest easy, I'm back. The parade starts at noon. ;)

In an attempt to go swimming at least once before summer is finally over, I think me and the son finally have Rick talked into a weekend trip to do just that. Hopefully we'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. Try not to miss me too terribly. ;) xoxo 

Lots of good answers to the Book of Questions question! Even a reply from a Star Wars smart ass! ;) Very clever. What would my answer be? Hmm.... Unfortunatly, more than one thing jumps out at me. Two, perhaps the strongest, and somewhat related.

First, I would need to tell me dad how much I truly do love him. We have had our differences over the years, mostly due to the fact that we are so much alike that we just don't mesh well. When he kicked me out of the house after high school graduation, I was pissed and broken hearted. I never hated him, but I acted like I did. When he made me leave, I lived with Rick at his parent's house. A few months later is when Rick's father snuck into my room and molested me, nearly raping me. I immediatly moved back home, and when I saw my father, the pain in his eyes, the guilt that he felt almost killed me. I knew he loved me. I hoped that he knew I loved him, but I couldn't spit out the words. He is not an openly affectionate person, so its really difficult to express feelings to him. Thats no excuse, of course.

Second, I need to tell my grandmother that I forgive her. *sigh* This one is truly stupid. Once I moved back home, after the incident with Rick's dad, my mother of course told my grandma what happened. Instead of offering me love and comfort when I needed it most, do you know what she did? She said I made it up. That I wanted to come back home to live with my dad, and so I made up this bogus story so they'd let me back. I can't describe the pain of a loved one thinking you lied about such a traumatic event, except to say that it truly did feel like a knife to the heart. She actually sat me down and told me that I should be ashamed of myself, telling such a horrible lie about a nice innocent man. I was hysterical, afraid no one believed me. Several years later, when our son was born and Rick's dad tried to break into our house and started threatening bodily harm to Rick, something finally sunk in. She asked my mom, "So, do you think that really happened? That she was telling the truth?" My mom told her they believed me, and my grandma told my mom that she would need to apologize to me. It never happened, but I know that she at least knows the truth now. I was childish and rude to her when she accused me of lying. That was to be expected. But I never did apologize.

Nothing like a silly book of questions for therapy, huh? lol

A comment was made about the relation of smell and taste in my post about blindness. This reminded me of a cool experiment me and my sister did as kids.

You take a slice of apple and a slice of onion and blindfold yourself. You hold the slice of apple up to your nose and smell it as you take a bite of the onion. Because your brain is tricked into thinking you are eating an apple, due to the scent, the onion tastes like an apple. That is, until you rip off the blindfold, and take away the apple, exclaiming,"Wow! That really works!", while you still have onion in your mouth. Then it tastes like you just took a bite out of an onion. EWW! lol

And on a closing note, someone got to this site by searching Google for "licking the menstrual fluid from her panties". Excuse me whilst I go vomit.

Squeaky Clean Sex

Watching the baseball game last night, where the Cardinals kicked some Padre ass by the way, I lost track of time and didn't take my shower when I had intended to. Once the game was over, it was nearly bed time, and Rick had yet to take his shower. Simple solution. Take one together! :)

"Lets go take a shower," I say.

"Okay..." was his quizzical answer.

When I joined him in the bathroom, he looked like he hadn't caught my 'lets' in 'lets go take a shower'.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, smiling.

I stripped and turned on the water. "Sharing the shower," and I got in, quickly joined by Rick. The hot water felt good, I washed his hair and rubbed soap over his body as he kissed me. Soon he was on his knees eating me out as I tried to wash my hair. No complaints though.

After a good soaping, I got down on my knees and sucked his dick, which had been poking me throughout the entire shower so far. Steamy water cascaded down his chest and tummy, trickling near my face as I licked and kissed his cock, the water taking away the taste of his skin. He thrust in and out of my mouth, getting dangerously close to coming before I stoped and stood up.

Grabbing me tightly in his arms, he kissed me deeply as he pushed me up against the tile wall, feeling cool against my skin. Reaching underneath my thighs, I was suddenly suspended, as he held me up against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist as his dick found my pussy. I gasped at the sudden movement, and with his thrusting, felt I was melting into the wall.

This was a new sensation, his cock hitting places inside me that weren't used to such intense stimulation. Moments later, I was coming, the hot water washing over our bodies, accentuating every conrtraction. My orgasm pulled Rick along for the ride, and he came while biting my nipple, nearly causing another, stronger orgasm to cancel out the first. Nearly, but not quite.

He held me there, on the wall, kissing me as our bodies relaxed. Letting me down gently, a quick rinse, and we were squeaky clean once more. Not the faintest hint of the sex that was just had.

From The Book of Questions

If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?

Okay Yankees Fans...

The Yankees lost 22-0 to the Cleveland Indians yesterday. The worst loss in Yankees history, tying the worst loss in major league history. Thats just embarrassing. lol Need I say more? Oh yeah! Go Cardinals!! :)

Do you see what I see?

Last night's episode of Nip/Tuck featured a story about a blind woman, who was played by the Noxema Girl. Her character made me think about how different I would live my life without perhaps one of the most important senses. Sight.

Much like Dr Troy, but minus the sleazy under tones, I would immediately be worried about who might answer such an ad. Whats to stop a rapist or serial killer from preying on the visually impaired through this means? They would have no idea as to what was about to happen, unable to find an escape route through the corners of their eyes, or find a phone to call for help, or even to eye a weapon for self defense.

How frightening.

I have seen a few movies with this very thing happening in it. I cringe at the memory. Even now, I find myself slightly panicking when the lights are first turned off and my eyes have not yet adjusted to the darknes. I can feel my pulse quicken and hear my heart pounding in my ears, until finally my eyes adjust and what was unknown is now displayed before me in shades of blue from the moon's light. Fear of the unknown, perhaps?

When my sister and I were younger, we used to blindfold ourselves and try to go about our activities as usual, leading each other around. Afterwards we were convinced that we knew what it was like to be blind. "Its not so tough, " we'd say. Easily said when vision is so easily restored, simply by pulling off a blindfold. I can recall feeling very uneasy when I was blindfolded. My other senses were heightened, the tiniest sound not going unheard. Empowering, but tough to get used to, I'm sure.

My cousin lost her vision in a terrible car accicent on Thanksgiving day, some fifteen or sixteen years ago. She and her boyfriend were on their way to the family gathering when it happened. She had her seat reclined, sleeping without her seat belt on and he fell asleep at the wheel. They ended up crashing into a semi truck. They say if she hadn't been reclined, she probably would have been beheaded. Thats a gruesome thought. Instead, the windshield glass and the impact of the crash ruined her eyes, leaving her blind. Her boyfriend walked away unharmed. Upon hearing that she had lost her vision, he left, never to be seen or heard from again.

She wears prosthetic eyes that are very convincing. I find myself looking away, so as not to be caught staring at her, through those unseeing eyes.

I vividly remember spending the night at my grandmother's house where my cousin lived. Dinner was ready, and my grandma had asked me to round everybody up so we could eat. I knocked on my cousin's door, and when I opened it, I saw her sitting on the floor in the dark. I was shocked and surprised. "Was she trying to sleep? Is she sad? Whats wrong?", I remember thinking to myself. It was then that I suddenly realized it. She sat in the dark every minute of her life now. I felt silly, and stupid, and even ashamed. I now knew, I mean I knew what had happened to her, that she lived in a black, unseeing world. Does that make sense, other than the brilliant epiphany that blind people don't need lights? lol

I can't imagine what it would be like to permanently lose one of my five senses. I think too often, I take advantage of them. Especially sight. It would be the worse thing in the world for me, to not be able to see the smile on my baby's face when I tickle him, or the contented, loving look on Rick's face after we make love.

People were in their pews talking at church. Suddenly, Satan appeared at the front of the church. Everyone started screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to getaway from evil incarnate. Soon everyone had exited the church except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew without moving, seeming oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence.Satan walked up to the old man and said, " Don't you know whoI am?"The man replied, "Yep, sure do.""Aren't you afraid of me?" asked Satan."Nope, sure ain't," said the man."Don't you realize I can kill you with one word?"asked Satan."Don't doubt it for a minute," returned the old man, in an even tone."Did you know that I could cause you profound, horrifying AGONY for all eternity?" "Yep," was the calm reply."And you're still not afraid?" asked Satan."Nope," said the old man. More than a little perturbed, Satan asked, "Well, why aren't you afraid of me?"The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for 48 years."

Admit it, there is a couple that you know that came to mind when you read that! ;)