Question of the day

“What is the one thing you haven’t done yet that you want to do with me, or to me?”

I love these types of questions. I love hypothesizing. It’s fun. It makes my brain happy. “What if” type of questions are like candy to my mind. Hypothesizing about sex makes both my brain and my clit happy so it’s a double treat.
How we came to the question is that today Luke has sex on the mind and for whatever reason I am decidedly not in the mood. We, neither of us, prescribe to the school of thought that if he wants sex, I must provide. However, being of the male persuasion, (I am going by what I hear from other women here since he is my first guy), he has been chewing my ear off by talking about how badly he wants it, needs it, is distracted without it, etc etc. I used to think of myself as a nympho because I have a higher sex drive than most women and butches I dated. I pity men and their sex drive. It seems like a colossal joke to have such different sex drives in different genders.
Anyhow, since we do have a bdsm relationship, some might think that if he wanted sex, he could demand it. If I am not otherwise busy (like today), theoretically he could and in practice I would respond to it some of the time. BUT I am very particular about my personal space and while I don’t mind having my limits pushed once in a while (by I don’t mind I mean it would turn me on), I wouldn’t be able to handle it as a given. If he were to demand sex from me when I was truly not in the mood, I would rain fire on his head and that’s not good for anyone. This is one reason I can’t be a slave or lifestyler ever. I wouldn’t even demure away, I would flatten with disapproval. Once more, not good, for anyone.
Some of the reluctance and caution around playing with that particular situation comes from another issue though. Namely, Luke is MUCH more tactile than I am. I can do without touch and a lot of times I need people not to touch me, specifically when I am upset. Luke has always needed to be touched to feel connected so when he is upset, he touches. When we are both upset, like when we’ve had an argument, that makes for a bad combination. For a long time, he didn’t quite get that or his need to touch outweighed his knowledge of my need for him not to. That invasion of my space, in a way, made me weary of his touch for a while so I instinctually reacted to his simplest touch with pulling away even if I actually wanted his touch. I had just had to push him away so much that it became an impulse. Over time, he has come to (slowly) understand what I mean or at least he’s been “retrained” to not do it, thank god, so we are past that. Who says tops can’t learn?

It’s an art, how I get side tracked. This part, I swear will relate back to why I started writing.
So here’s the thing. Before dating me Luke had never been in a bdsm relationship. *I* have never been in a relationship that didn’t involve at least some innocent form of kink. When we met, I think by the 2nd time we had spoken I told him I was into kink. I just never have been able to get involved with someone without putting that on the table from the get go. I try to make it sound not so presumptuous as in, hi we’ve just met but I am going to assume we’ll have sex and I am telling you that I need it kinky. But I just don’t want to waste my time so for as long as I remember, if I found someone attractive, I’ve let it be known that I am into kink. I mentioned I started having sex when I was 19 and I met Luke when I was turning 24. However in the interim 5 years, I did manage to do a lot more sexual exploration that he had managed with the added 6 years he has on me. With that being said, he took to topping like a fish to water. If there was ever a case of raw talent making up for lack of experience, this is it. He is one of the best tops I have ever met and he is my sexual soul mate. He is the yang to my yin.
My kink need has always been so obvious to me that I used to be skeptical of people who “come to kink”. I was a kink snob, I admit it. In short, I was a dork. Knowing Luke and growing up changed that.
BUT, short and long of it is while he could handle a cane and flogger on the first go better than a lot of experienced tops I’ve known, he still hasn’t done a bunch of things that I take for granted. Also, not having been in the kink and queer community (and by nature) he is much more conservative than I am. So it’s always fun to hypothesize on sex acts we haven’t done yet and he hasn’t tried so far.

Which (finally) brings us back to the question of the day.
My answer:
I want a threesome with Luke and another guy. I’ve had a threesome before with a butch and a femme. In that situation I was the visiting dignitary. Now I want to play with two masculine people and bring a boy/boi in. I don’t care if he’ll be a trans man or a butch, just masculine. I want to be double penetrated. I want to be whipped while I am sucking cock and all such fun that comes from threesomes. But I want our third to be submissive to Luke while dominant to me. Also I want to watch Luke fuck him and I want to watch him suck Luke off. I swoon at boy on boy action.
So I want a bisexual switch who is clean and trustworthy to come and play with us.
The problem? Luke does not like sharing his toys, specially his favorite which happens to be your truly. Annnd Luke is decidedly into girls. However, as I pointed out to him, he did ask so I answered.
Oh and he couldn’t picture how a double penetration in ass and pussy would work. He was telling me how the mechanics of it wouldn’t work so I had to search till I found some clips that showed it which did not impress. I won’t pretend that it’s easy or graceful or even attainable for long periods of time… closer observation of various double penetration porn made it clear that it’s rather hard even for professionals. All I am saying is that I like the sensation (from being fucked in my cunt while also having a “full sized” plug in my ass) and I think I’ll enjoy the act. I am not going to pretend that I know it’ll be fun. I’ve had plenty of fantasies that once played out not only did not live up to the mental enticement but were downright icky. But I’ve also had plenty of fantasies that were muuuuch better in practice than even in my head.
As for what I’d like to do to him. I can’t imagine doing anything TO him. With him is one thing. To him, well I can’t wrap my mind around that quite. He is my top and thus the doer of things unto moi.
His answer: (to both with and to)
Public sex as in, in a public place and with a public to watch. He IS more of an exhibitionist than I thought. Luke and I have had sex in public areas like hiking trail or a club or restaurant but not yet with other people watching. I had done that before I met him BUT that’s before all my issues with my health and weight and self image. I am honestly much more shy naked wise than I used to be. BUT, while he much be prudish about my fantasies, I am here to please so public sex is on the schedule. We have to wait until Luke has his top surgery but right after he is healed and feels comfy we’re going to do something public. Before that time which would be about a year away, we’ve been playing around with the idea of making some clips to post online. That would be like having an audience without being able to see them. A much larger audience. And the benefit of editing to have as a mental safeguard against attacks of shy. It’s like training wheels for exhibitionism!

Now on to cleanings and Christmas set ups.

Yay!

[Via http://dirtyingenue.wordpress.com]

MUST HAVE MONDAYS.......

 

Back once again…..i have put together something fresh for MHM! everything in the picture is available to purchase, just hit me up and ill let you know the best place to cop what you want…..im feeling the new hundreds caps and the undercrown crew neck jumper! so sweet…the jordan XI’s are available in the nu retro form this december so look out for them!

 

nP-

[Via http://itspinky.wordpress.com]

Knalder jorden ihjel!

 

Hej Peeps – faldt lige over en poppede men alligevel tankevækkende video på Politiken.tv. De har en ny klimafeature der hedder “Climaniacs“. Det første outlet fra dem er denne film om vores overforbrug, som skyldes jagten på lagengymnastik. Det er sådan set rigtig nok – Tor Nørretranders sagde det så smukt: “Umage gir mage”. Men der er en vigtigt ekstrapointe til allersidst i filmen, som er dig serveret via nedenstående link:

Vi skader klimaet for at få SEX

Sex er godt ja sex er sundt – derfor dyrker vi det året rundt!

e.

 

[Via http://sexklimarocknroll.wordpress.com]

like a vine on these bones...

jumbled in the head and dragging my future away from you

you have kissed me quite insane it seems, caressed me into crazy.

and i, with my fingers on the buttons of my phone. paralyzed.

i keep an appointment with our past, it flickers like a grainy home movie

me, climbing with my fingers

the slippery ladders of your rib

and us, laughing, hee-na-haw

you opened me up and let me fall,

i spilled at your feet.

you put your hands inside and wrapped around me

like a vine on these bones. tightly, and moved me

ripped the want from my eyes

and the words from my lips

you ran through me,

like mercury.

[Via http://reluctantlaundress.wordpress.com]

9 Manfaat Seks Bagi Kesehatan

Kehidupan seks yang baik merupakan salah satu cara untuk tetap sehat, bahagia, dan bugar. Dengan hubungan seks, setidaknya seminggu sekali, ada 9 keuntungan menyehatkan yang bisa Anda raih bersama pasangan.

Anda jadi tidak mudah terserang demam karena ada peningkatan immunoglobulin A, jenis antibodi yang berguna untuk melawan infeksi.

Anda juga bisa mendapat siklus mens yang lebih teratur karena pengaruh dari feromon pria (semacam zat bau yang dihasilkan tubuh untuk merangsang lawan jenis).

Anda jadi lebih mudah mengatasi stres.Tekanan darah tinggi jadi melorot (tekanan darah tinggi berbahaya bagi jantung Anda).

Kolesterol jahat juga jadi lebih berkurang dan sebaliknya kolesterol baik meningkat.

Membantu melemaskan otot dan membakar lemak dalam tubuh.

Membantu produksi estrogen yang bisa meningkatkan penampilan indah rambut, kulit, dan kuku.Membantu meningkatkan daya ingat karena peredaran darah lebih lancar mengalir ke otak.

Membantu memperbaiki mood karena adanya produksi hormon endorfin.

Selain hal-hal di atas, beberapa keuntungan lainnya adalah Anda juga bisa meningkatkan kepercayaan diri sekaligus keintiman dengan pasangan melalui aksi mendebarkan ini. Hal ini dikarenakan seks dan orgasme merangsang produksi lebih dari hormon oksitosin, hormon cinta yang membuat Anda merasa terikat dengan pasangan.

Saat oksitosin meningkat, hal sama terjadi pula dengan endorfin yang mampu melenyapkan rasa sakit seperti pusing atau sakit PMS, sehingga Anda bisa tidur lebih nyenyak saat malam hari. Gunakan aksi menegangkan ini sebagai ajang ‘olahraga’ untuk melatih otot-otot Anda agar lebih kuat. Terutama otot bagian vagina yang biasanya Anda ‘gunakan’ untuk menyetop keluarnya urin. Semakin bertambahnya usia, maka otot vagina yang kuat makin diperlukan.

Kenikmatan dalam berhubungan dimulai dari pikiran atau otak kita. Otak dan sistem saraf kitalah yang mengontrol kelenjar seks dan alat kelamin, dan dengan demikian mengatur juga hasrat seksual Anda. Oleh karena itu, gambar-gambar visual bisa membuat kita terangsang. Namun, ingat juga untuk menjaga hati dan pikiran karena kekhawatiran dan ketakutan bisa mematikan gairah Anda.

[Via http://bbsucktea.wordpress.com]

Sexualidad

La sexualidad es algo natural en los seres humanos, siendo una función como tantas otras, como comer, caminar, leer, estudiar, etc. Y como tal, debe ser un tema tratado con total naturalidad, honestidad, y  cariño, cuando de  enseñarlo a un niño se trate,  teniendo claro darle su propio espacio dentro de este  proceso de aprendizaje. Pues los niños toman  diversos caminos  al tratar de  tener el  conocimiento de su propio cuerpo, y el de poder saber el por qué de sus sensaciones, y por mucho que nosotros los adultos nos esforcemos por responderles de las formas más mesuradas posibles,  las respuestas que les otorgamos no siempre son los más adecuados para ellos.

Las  manifestaciones y  deseos sexuales en los niños, se manifiestan  desde una muy  temprana  edad,  siendo la etapa  infantil  un portal  por  el  cual el niño va  desarrollando  su personalidad y sus relaciones con la afectividad.

 Hoy en  día, las interferencias en este proceso de aprendizaje hacen  que los  niños  estén  cada vez en más temprano edad  expuestos  a unas manifestaciones severas, y en muchos casos incomprensibles, de la sexualidad.

El estúpido culto a la belleza, al físico y la seducción, en los medios de comunicación, no solo degenera la percepción del niño tiene de sí, si  no que también altera la manera de cómo debe mirar a otros niños como el, estas clases de publicidad no distinguen la edad de su público ni mucho menos el daño psicoemocional que les generan. Hoy en día existe un abuso de las manifestaciones sexuales, al cual los niños están indiscriminadamente expuestos. Los contenidos sexuales pueden acelerar las manifestaciones de los niños en el tema de la sexualidad, considerando que ellos aprenden imitando lo que ven de sus padres, de la televisión, out-doors, de bailes y ropas eróticas de moda, etc. Estas clases de influencias  conceden nociones equivocadas y perjudiciales al niño.

De una forma general lo único que puede evitar estas malas interferencias es la familia. Somos los adultos, los padres, que debemos  ejercer el papel de filtro de las informaciones. Siendo necesario crear y mantener un canal abierto de comunicación con los hijos, espacios de discusión e de intervención sobre lo que es correcto y lo que no, relacionados a todos los temas, y en especial a la sexualidad. Es conveniente  además vigilar de muy cerca el entorno y las actividades del niño, para orientarle cuando sea necesario.

En la medida de lo posible, no se debe perder ninguna oportunidad para entablar conversación sobre sus dudas, intereses, proyectos etc. , pues el tener estas clase de información nos ayuda a nosotros  poder saber por dónde van y de donde vienen .y con mucho mas razón hoy en día en  que los niños pues ya no se ponen  la ropa  que uno buenamente les compra si no que son ellos quienes las escogen , ahora en donde las respuestas te las dan ellos y tu solo te quedas mudo al ver que  ya sabían que  no eran la cigüeña quien lo había traído a este mundo, ahora que nos quedamos asombrados y a la ves enternecidos cuando vemos una joven pareja de NOVIOS de apenas 5 años caminando por el INICIAL agarrados de la mano, ahora que ya no se mandan cartas de amor si no se envían mensajes de texto, y que no necesitas pedir permiso para poder conversar con un amigo(a) pues solo basta llamar  por el celular y conversar todo lo que se quiera en la comodidad de un cuarto , ahora que no se necesitas tener a la persona en forma física para poder tener intimidad pues solo bastas una cámara y un pantalla, ahora que ya no necesitas hacer un SLAM ,  si no que basta tener un HI o FACEBOOK para que sepan de ti, ahora que no necesitas incluso conocer a la persona para poder entablar una conversación , es justamente ahora que deberíamos dejarnos de estúpidos tabúes y hablar de SEXUALIDAD con nuestros niños

 

 

[Via http://jm816.wordpress.com]

SuperFreakonomics Book Club: Ask Sudhir Venkatesh About Street Prostitution

In the first installment of our virtual book club, Emily Oster answered your questions about her research (co-authored with Rob Jensen) which argues that the lives of rural women in India improved on several dimensions thanks to the widespread adoption of television.

That story appeared in our book’s introduction. Now we’re moving on to Chapter One.

We will probably feature a few Q&A’s with the subjects and researchers featured in this chapter, which is described in the Table of Contents like this:

1. How is a street prostitute like a department-store Santa?

In which we explore the various costs of being a woman.

Meet LaSheena, a part- time prostitute … One million dead “witches” … The many ways in which females are punished for being born female … Even Radcliffe women pay the price … Title IX creates jobs for women; men take them … 1 of every 50 women a prostitute … The booming sex trade in old-time Chicago … A survey like no other … The erosion of prostitute pay … Why did oral sex get so cheap? … Pimps versus Realtors … Why cops love prostitutes … Where did all the schoolteachers go? … What really accounts for the male-female wage gap? … Do men love money the way women love kids? … Can a sex change boost your salary? … Meet Allie, the happy prostitute; why aren’t there more women like her?

Today we concentrate on “a survey like no other,” and invite you to ask questions of the man behind that survey, Sudhir Venkatesh. He is a sociologist at Columbia University who did his graduate work at the University of Chicago and conducted years’ worth of valuable, fascinating field work there.

One chapter in Freakonomics was based on a series of papers Sudhir wrote with Steve Levitt about the economics of a crack-selling gang. (He did a Q&A on that topic here; and he wrote a book, Gang Leader for a Day, about that research.)

In SuperFreakonomics, we write about the field work that Sudhir conducted with street prostitutes in Chicago. There is a lot to be said about the findings of the research (mostly concerning prices and services) as well as methodology, the historical changes and context of street prostitution, and even how the prostitutes engage in what economists call price discrimination, or charging different prices for the same product.

Sudhir has agreed to field your questions about his research, so leave them in the comments section below. As always, we’ll post the answers shortly. For those of you who haven’t yet read this chapter, here are a few relevant excerpts:

Venkatesh, knowing that traditional survey methods don’t necessarily produce reliable results for a sensitive topic like prostitution, tried something different: real-time, on-the-spot data collection. He hired trackers to stand on street corners or sit in brothels with the prostitutes, directly observing some facets of their transactions and gathering more intimate details from the prostitutes as soon as the customers were gone.

Most of the trackers were former prostitutes — an important credential because such women were more likely to get honest responses. Venkatesh also paid the prostitutes for participating in the study. If they were willing to have sex for money, he reasoned, surely they’d be willing to talk about having sex for money. And they were. Over the course of nearly two years, Venkatesh accumulated data on roughly 160 prostitutes in three separate South Side neighborhoods, logging more than 2,200 sexual transactions.

And:

During Venkatesh’s study, six pimps managed the prostitution in West Pullman, and he got to know each of them. They were all men. In the old days, prostitution rings in even the poorest Chicago neighborhoods were usually run by women. But men, attracted by the high wages, eventually took over — yet another example in the long history of men stepping in to outearn women.

These six pimps ranged in age from their early 30’s to their late 40’s and ‘were doing pretty well,’ Venkatesh says, making roughly $50,000 a year. Some also held legit jobs — car mechanic or store manager — and most owned their homes. None were drug addicts.

One of their most important roles was handling the police. Venkatesh learned that the pimps had a good working relationship with the police, particularly with one officer, named Charles. When he was new on the beat, Charles harassed and arrested the pimps. But this backfired. ‘When you arrest the pimps, there’ll just be fighting to replace them,’ Venkatesh says, ‘and the violence is worse than the prostitution.’

And:

How do the Chicago street prostitutes price-discriminate? As Venkatesh learned, they use different pricing strategies for white and black customers. When dealing with blacks, the prostitutes usually name the price outright to discourage any negotiation. (Venkatesh observed that black customers are more likely than whites to haggle — perhaps, he reasoned, because they’re more familiar with the neighborhood and therefore know the market better.) When doing business with white customers, meanwhile, the prostitute makes the man name a price, hoping for a generous offer. As evidenced by the black-white price differential in the data, this strategy seems to work pretty well.

And:

Of all the tricks turned by the prostitutes he tracked, roughly 3 percent were freebies given to police officers. The data don’t lie: a Chicago street prostitute is more likely to have sex with a cop than to be arrested by one.

source: http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/18/superfreakonomics-book-club-ask-sudhir-venkatesh-about-street-prostitution/?scp=3&sq=child%20sex%20trafficking&st=cse

[Via http://cjaye57.wordpress.com]

Brea's Miami Fuck Party

Title Brea’s Miami Fuck Party Genres All Sex, Feature, Lesbian, Masturbation Actors Andi Anderson, Brea Bennett, Kiera King, Melanie Jayne, Natasha Nice, Savannah Stern Studio Club Jenna Review Welcome to Miami You will not believe what goes on here Join Brea Bennett and her friends on a crazy, sexy, cool trip to Miami that you will not soon forget. You are VIP of this fucking party, so join in View and indulge in some of the hottest sex and girl-on-girl action ever filmed in Miami You will feel the heat and boil over

[Via http://mypornmovies.wordpress.com]

Reasons why women have sex with men!

I’ve just read an interesting interent article based on a book written by two authors of ‘Why Women Have Sex’.

Apparently it seems that women go to bed with their partners as a way of relieving boredom, keeping the peace, curing a headache and even as a thank you for a nice dinner. Hmmmmm – surely the man is capable of cooking dinner without having to be rewarded?? And I personally can’t think of anything worse than having sex with a headache….

Also suprisinly the authors of this book claim that from over 200 reasons Why Women Have Sex, attraction is ranked way down the list.  Well not in my bloody book – Or do we have massive amounts of gold diggers out there girls? I’m sorry I just couldn’t do it. Not even for serious money. Ha I bet you are reading this thinking ‘yeah right, she’s talking shit’…..Having sex with a man, who you find unattractive and probably never going to love, though granted they might be a nice guy, just doesnt appeal to me.

“Research has shown that most men find most women at least somewhat sexually attractive, whereas most women do not find most men sexually attractive at all.” Sorry I find that somewhat crazy – surely its the other way round….Or is that because my opinion of men and their standards isn’t very high?

While doing research for this book, they interviewed over 1,000 women who produced very surprising and somewhat hilarious answers. Listen to some of these:

One claimed she did it for a spiritual experience, because it is “the closest thing to God”. – Well I would like to know who she is sleeping with. She obviously thinks highly of the bloke…..

Others listed “cure for stress headache”, “to make my sexual skills better” and “for a clearer complexion”. Maybe I kinda of agree with “to make my sexual skills better”…lol.

However the majority, being a massive 84 per cent, admit they have sex to ensure a “quiet life” or “to bargain for their partners to carry out household chores”. Sod that!!!!!! I think the independent woman in me is coming out – You dont have sex to get your bloke to do chores. Why are these women with these men if this is the case? Well ok, maybe have sex with your man to get something decent – like a nice bit of jewellery. Or is that boadering close to prostitution??!?!? Haha!  

I then went on to read – In one survey carried out by the authors, one in ten women admitted having sexual intercourse in return for presents, or lavish meals……. Ha least I’m not alone with this one!

One said: “I have sex to relieve the boredom. Because it’s easier than fighting. Plus it gives me something to do.” Maybe just find another man then love???

While another admitted: “I had sex with a couple of guys because I felt sorry for them.”  Eughhh – I bet they were mingers. Or the bloke completely fooled the women to get his leg over more like.

So ladies, why do you have sex??

Quick Trip to The City

Gator and I made a quick trip to “the city” so to speak to get my new cell phone tonight. They didn’t have the one I want but I’ll just order it online.

However, once he found out that we were coming, Tech volunteered to stay in town so that we could all see each other for a bit.

It was a nice little, short visit. Kitten was very sleepy for some reason but once they got home she realized the medicine she had taken for her cold was NOT non-drowsy. Not a good thing for her at all.

We were all able to grab a quick bite to eat and talk amongst ourselves. Do a little catch up on a few things.

And at the end of it all, I got a really nice kiss or two or three from Tech. I wasn’t aware I needed that so much. I’m very grateful for the time I get to spend with him. Whether planned or spontaneous. Alone or in a group.

And a fellow blogger reminded me how lucky I am to have a husband who isn’t threatened by my relationship with and my love for Tech.

Ejakulieren vor der Webcam

Ficken vor der LesbenCam ist nicht nur für das Girl, sondern in erster Linie für unzählige Zuschauer etwas ganz Besonderes. Live zu gucken, wenn ein Mädel vor der Webcam masturbiert, ist der Wunsch-Traum zahlreicher Männer. Zudem aber auch auch noch die Chance zu erhalten, heißen Mädelzu sagen, was sie tun soll, ist wirklich absolut geil – Live Sex der besonderen Art. Weiterhinhat der Mann die Möglichkeit, sich selber voll und ganzzur Schau zu stellen, sofern er sehr einfach seine Kameraeinschaltet und amChat zwischen zwei Live Cams teilnimmt. Auch Anrufe oder ein Live-Treffen mit der Senderin sind hin und wieder möglich, je nachdem, wie großartig der Mann für das heiße Girlerscheint. Noch mehr Unterhaltung in Sachen Porno gibt es bei NSFW Porno .com. Da gibt es angezogene und ausgezogene Girls .

Know Who Thy is Texting

So, yeah. Tonight’s festivities (romp with fuck buddy) cancelled as said buddy is sick.

Here’s the thing. He called to let me know he was sick and strangely enough he used a different name. The whole message threw me off because clearly his name came up on the call list. I referred back to my text messages and oddly a conversation I had with one guy (Marc) and the guy who called and left a message (Scott…a different Scott…so confusing!) were appearing on the same page…connected to the same number! WTF? I got this during my break from group so I had no time to process it.

On my way home, I called and got Scott. I told him about the confusion and then it hit me. I had been texting with Scott the whole time!! His first text, which started my confusion, began with a question I’d told him that Marc constantly asked me (“Are you still with that guy?” ’cause Marc wants me the mist when I’m dating!); he also secretly wanted the answer to. I re-read the conversation and I get now why I was so confused. It also explains why Marc went from refusing to ever fuck me again if I didn’t have sex with him (empty threat!), whist dating (early stages) another guy (see!), to being all nice and sweet. It also explains why when I next heard from Marc (see? empty threat!) he kept insisting that he hadn’t written me texts. He has a history of denying writing things that are saved/recoverable. Really he try any means necessary to get in my pants. Sometimes an ass and sometime sweet. His angle is always different but if I’m single I go back. He did provide me with the best sex of my life (and just this past summer!)…how could I not?

Now, what to do about Scott #2?

How I know him is another story. Too long to write via my Iphone. I’ve already written more than I intended as blogging mobile is more work! And I hate this keyboard.

More tomorrow!

My Roomie is being so drunk and loud nasty follow up.

I made a pissy post about My Roomie is being so drunk and loud nasty

I took Sunday night off. She and I started at my bar and ended up drinking the rest of the night at our apartment.

She really wanted to call her boyfriend, but I really liked the way the night was going. So when we ran out of drinks at our place, I suggested we go to our neighbors and keep the party going.

Bad bad bad.

OMG, I thought she was loud with her boyfriend. I’m such a bad influence. I hope we can still casually party with them. But, what a weirdo she is to be so loud. Its like an icky trademark. I just hope I don’t become a victim of her bad joss, guilt by association.

Who am I?

The girl in the low cut frock, great tits, party girl, doing drugs in the toilets to get by. 
“Look at me Look at me!” she cries, hoping that no one will notice how empty she is on the inside.
Desperately lonely; desperate for approval, validation.
Just maybe if I am lucky enough and someone gets close enough, they won’t hate what they see.
They can take the blackness away.

Thank you cancer, for I can no longer be that girl.

My body has gotten tired of my mind and taken over the game.
No longer do I have the exterior to get noticed.
No longer can I enter a room confident of attention.
No longer can I wait for someone else to rescue me.
Maybe now that the fakeness is on the outside, I will have the courage to confront and accept the real me, without fear or loathing.
But what will I do if there is nothing of any substance or value?
Maybe it’s all fake?
I am an illusion through and through.
A mindless vassal, made up only of the reflection of others.
Nowhere to hide in therapy…
Dare I let my emotions take over from my intellect?
Relinquish my control on the game?
The stakes are high can she do it?
Be vulnerable; put herself out there, for even more rejection.
Finding my strength, in acknowledging my vulnerability.
Somehow, I will find the courage not to care about the rejection, my soul no longer diminished by each encounter.
Chip
Chip
Chip
Afraid of failure,even more afraid of success.
‘Cause god knows what I would do if somebody actually did love me.
That would be a challenge to accept.
Much more comfortable to yearn for the unobtainable, keeping myself distant from those around me.
Protecting myself the only way I know how.
Showing only the strong, cool, confident, me.
Can’t let anyone smell my fear.
But again my body has rebelled, fighting against my mind, allowing the tears to flow, when I least expect it
Insight is easy, but change is hard, so much harder.
I have hope and sometimes on a good day, when I am not too busy beating myself up,
I can believe that salvation lies in the struggle, not the destination.
What matters is not forging ahead on the path in front of everyone else, but….
taking the time to hold the hands of those who walk beside me, those that are just like me, but not like me.  Moment by moment embracing life.

Enrichment lesson No 13: If we look hard enough, we can find others travelling the same path.

> Father and four sons charged in ritual sex abuse of grandchildren

12 November 2009 CHICAGO: A Missouri man and his four sons were charged with the ritualistic sex abuse of his six grandchildren and police were searching the family farm on Wednesday for bodies that may be buried there.

Officials declined to say whether the remains they were searching for were of adults or children.

“There have been indications of a body or bodies in numerous locations,” Lafayette County Sheriff Kerrick Alumbaugh told a press conference.

Officials were also digging up the farm in hopes of finding glass jars filled with notes the children wrote describing the horrific abuse.

“When the victims were younger they were writing down what had happened to them and placing it in those jars and subsequently burying it in the property in hopes to forget about the occurrences,” said Bill Lowe, a spokesman for the Missouri Highway Patrol.

The alleged crimes came to light in August when a 26-year-old woman approached police with the suppressed memories of years of abuse at the hand of her father, uncles and grandfather.

Her four sisters and brother are cooperating with police and more charges are expected to be filed, Lowe said.

“We believe there are other victims out there,” Alumbaugh said. “Paedophiles don’t stop with just one. They keep going.”

The woman described nine incidents of abuse which she believes began when she was about five and ended after she became pregnant and was forced to have an abortion at age 11.

The abuse included elaborate “wedding” ceremonies in which the girls would pick flowers to adorn their hair and wear special dresses.

After one such ceremony, she was “wed” to an uncle and led to a chicken coop.

“She remembers her grandfather putting a blanket over the glass door and saying ‘you all have fun’,” the charging documents said.

Another incident involved lining the girls up on their grandfather’s bed in the farmhouse basement. The grandfather, father and an uncle then repeatedly violated the girls with items that included a screw driver and a pencil.

The woman also recalled being forced to watch as her brother was sexually abused and the charging documents also described an incident of sexual abuse involving a dog.

Lowe declined to say whether other family members were aware of the abuse or present when it occurred.

“I do not know what their role was as far as knowing anything,” he told AFP. “That’s part of the investigation that’s still ongoing.”

The grandmother died in December 1991, the Kansas City Star reported citing her obituary. The alleged abuse occurred between 1988 and 1995 at the farm in Bates City, Missouri.

The five men were formally charged with various counts of child sex abuse on Tuesday and remained in jail Wednesday after a judge set bonds ranging from 30,000 to 75,000 dollars.

Charged in the crime were: Burrell Edward Mohler Sr, 77; Burrell Edward Mohler, Jr, 51, the father of the six children; Jared Leroy Mohler, 48; Roland Neil Mohler, 47; and David A Mohler, 52.

Hotwife Slut Top & Cuckold Backstory

One search term had to do with hotwife clothing, so I thought I would post a little to I’ve got which hotwifes may like entitled “Cum play with me” on the breast area. The first picture is my lame attempt at photoshop(I can’t do a thing in it) because my nickname is “bunny”:

They also have some other fun slogans, my second fave which I want to buy is “spank me”. There is also others such a “69″, “bad girl”, “got wood”, “pet my pussy”, “wet wild and willing” and many more.

CuckyD asked to know a bit of back story on my relationship with my cuck, if he went into the relationship knowing he’d be cuckolded or if it just evolved that way.

Our relationship started off as any normal teenage relationship, no cuckolding involved, I had never even heard of a cuckold til he mentioned it years later. Honestly I had no interested in having sex with let alone looking at another man. I do remember early on talking about the fantasy of being with sexy other men when we travelled around the world, particularly Russia as I want to visit because of my interest and heritage. However, it was just a fantasy to me, which I quickly lost interest in, I was more interested in a threesome with two men. I always wanted a relationship with a dominant man, but as my cuck expressed his will to be cuckolded over and over I decided I would try and make it work.

For years I refused to try cuckolding, but now I am having a go. I am still trying to get fully into the swing of things and get myself into the mind frame of a total cuckoldress. Since I am still trying to transition my mind, I intend to work on fantasies that involve cuckolding and cuckolding aspects I can contribute aside from sex with other men. When I have mastered that and/or feel comfortable I will begin looking into meeting and having sex with other men. I do not intend to push myself into things I am not ready for, so I’m taking it very slowly. If I feel that I am never ready, which I will not deny is possible, then cuckolding is not the lifestyle for me.

More on my cuckolding experience next post. Leaving Coffs to Mullumbimby, spending time with my family.

Please vote in the poll in my sidebar. Comments?

XOX

Psihologie sociala a' la Catalin

Ca tot ma regasesc in Homer si imi place sa cred ca deja mi-am gasit margarina dar si ca urmeaza sa vorbesc despre dracu cel fara pula si as vrea sa va calmez inainte am sa incep cu (clipul nu conteaza, versurile si piesa in sine imi starnesc multe asocieri):

In seara asta am facut inca o descoperire epica, si anume, cum functioneaza atractia noatra, a oamenilor de rau, de evil, de dracu’, adica de femei. Stiu ca am si cititori care se pisa stand jos, nu-i problema, vorbesc despre femeile alea naspa, nu de voi.

Noi oamenii suntem atrasi de ele pentru ca asa ne obisnuiesc de mici. Pana si ale noastre mame sunt tot femei, asta e, asa au fost facute. Nu cred ca isi dau seama ca sug viata din noi, desi, in ciuda faptului ca inca de mici ne dam seama de asta, tot nu ne intra in cap. Cred ca-i din cauza faptului ca al nostru creier prefera sa tina minte doar chestile bune, nu si pe cele neutre sau rele..

Cum ziceam, femeile sunt unite la un nivel suprarealist, de mici ne obisnuiesc cu idea ca daca ne este foame avem mancare, daca n este frig, intr-un fel sau altu’ o sa ne fie bine, de haine curate, cumparaturi si curatenie se ocupa tot ele si… dupa o varsta, noi oamenii inca ne dorim sa simtim acel sentiment de liniste si lipsa de griji cu aceasi intensitate ca atunci cand am fost mici. Automat si normal ca ale noastre mame se plictisesc eventual si incep sa ne puna sa ne spalam singuri sosetele si farfuriile, drept urmare, pentru a ne stimula putin, natura (viata in sine) a facut in asa fel incat creierul sa produca anumite substante ce ne fac sa ne simtim foarte bine, sa ne indragostim.

Rezulta ca, cumva, candva, daca presupunem ca ar exista o divinitate creatoare sau, colectiva ce are ca mana de lucru aceste unitati biologice atat de limitate, s-a gandit in felul urmator:

“Bai, am nevoie de ceva gen o mama, cineva care sa se ocupe de chestiile minuscule gen mancare, curatenie, chestii, un fel de om de-al casei dar care sa lucreze gratis”

Dar tocmai asta-i problema, nimic nu-i gratis. D-asta natura a facut in asa fel incat actul sexual sa ofere atata de multa placere. Ca sa indulceasca putin afacerea. Divinitata asta sa fie femeie daca-i asa de meschina ?i

Toata faza asta este dovedita de observatii directe. Uitati-va la oamenii care au crescut doar cu mama, astia sunt cei mai loviti de virusul iubirii, statistic vorbind, astia sunt cei mai fideli si dedicati parteneri. Tocmai pentru faptul ca sunt dispusi sa indure mai mult pentru a-si atinge gradul necesar de confort.

In eventualitatea in care omul este crescut doar de 2 femei heterosexuale (mama sau bunica, mama si sora), un mediu saturat de atentie maternala,  situatia se impute putin, persoana in cauza fiind de mic obisnuit cu un asemenea grad de confort ia situatia de buna, si incepe sa pretinda mai multa atentie. Genul de foameni fie prea posesivi sau gelosi, fie oamenii sugativa emotionala. Saracii poate n-au nici o vina, doar ca asa pare sa mearga treaba.

Oamenii ce au avut privilegiul de a creste oarecum singuri sau cu barbati sutn cei mai ok, cei mai posibil sa fie open minded, de treaba, liberi.

Desigur, cei ce au crescut in familii mixte sunt baseline-ul, sunt neutrii, personalitatea lor este modelata de factori ceva mai complecsi, gen atitudinea anturajului, obiceiurile si gradul sau tipul de cultura, media si factori economici. Toti acesti factori complecsi isi fac vazuta importanta in cazul oamenilor crescuti institutionalizat, in orfelinate, cu bone sau internate.

Oamenii crescuti in famili de homosexuali (indiferent de gen) n-am avut ocazia sa studiez (voi ati avut ocazia ? si daca da, cum se manifesta ?) dar presupun ca s-ar ramifica independent de orientarea sociala (nu vad de ce copilul ar fi influentat la nivelul asta) si mecanismul dragostei ca si emotie s-ar dezvolta direct proportional cu gradul de atentie primit transformat in confort spiritual. Lucru ce-mi intareste presupunerea ca acea divinitate teoretica ar fi gandit cum am spus eu ceva mai devreme.

Observati totusi cat de evident de manipulator este crestinismul, cu toate juramintele alea limitatoare. Cat de mult vor mediocritate spirituala. Sau totusi, poate este o reteta catre nirvana, poate daca respecti ideologia, fara dogma, ai sansele cele mai mari de a atinge fericirea, desigur, fericirea cea mai accesibila si eficienta in raport cu efortul depus. Exemplu clar este sinuciderea, pana la urma daca-ti pacalesti creierul ca mori (bungee, roller coaster) tot se pune ca un risc pentru a obtine un grad mai mare de fericire decat cea accesibila de majoritatea, si tocmai d-asta activitatea in sine, chit ca-i reala sau nu este privita atat de naspa de crestinism. Totusi, tineti minte ca nu-i scris nicaieri ca in pat nu-i voie sa va futeti ceva mai interesant, nu doar 1-2 pozitii.

Ma rog,, incepusem postul spuncand ca femeile sunt evil si apoi am inceput sa aberez despre psihologie de carciuma si teorii conspirative, drept urmare, revenind:

Femeile, fara sa vrea iti sug viata, ne sug viata, energia, mojo. Bine, evident ca-s si exceptii, sunt alea care o fac de placere, dar e ok, si noi avem porcii nostrii care dupa un futai random ii dau tipei o moneda de 10 bani si o indruma mai mult sau mai putin vulgar catre cea mai apropiata statie de transport in comun. . Exista si fenomene d-astea. dar e ok, exista karma si totul se rezolva in timp.

Femeile sunt foarte egoiste emotional, ele vor numai “WOW-uri” (nu mai stiu, v-am explicat cum functioneaza femeile afectiv-romantic ??). Cat mai multe posibil, cat mai des posibil, fara a tine cont de cheful omului in cauza (ca de nu). Ca sa se simta ele bine noi trebuie sa depunem efort, se vede si la sex, la noi este nevoie de atat de putin pentru a genera orgasmul si, la ele este atat de complex. Desigur n-au nici o vina, asa sunt construite. D-asta zic ca dracu’i femeie si se hraneste cu efort. Desigur, o femeie inteligenta (Ca dracu’) stie si ce sa ofere pentru acel efort. Pentru ele fericirea noastra este atat de panala si simpla de oferit incat o fac natural: un zambet, o privire, o atingere (toate activitati ce ofera placere reciproca, perfecta, emitatorul este si receptor)… si gata, au prins omul.

Femeile, si aici ma refer la femeile naspa, sunt cele care iau asta de-a buna, se obisnuiesc si incep sa abuzeze. Femeile ce pretind atentie, ce o cer, pana la modul in care, daca nu le-o oferi ce si cand trebuie (emotional in primul rand, dar putem trece si la pragmatisme) incep sa te santajeze emotional. Natura functioneaza pe baza echilibrului logic dintre recompensa si pedeapsa. Se vede peste tot, scopul este supravietuirea informatiei genetice (plus+) si, pentru acela de a-si asigura supravietuirea in nivelul optim de confort, viata depune din ce in ce mai mult efort, chit ca doar petnru a-si asigura nutrienti necesari.

Eh, femeile naspa abuzeaza de o caracteristica a speciei noastre, si anume empatia. Automat ne simtim mai down cand suntem printre oameni tristi sau suparati. Femeile naspa tocmai de asta profita, te fac sa te simti atat de naspa ca… sa fim seriosi, ce-i mai naspa pentru tine ca o femeie ce ti-e draga trista, suparata, nemultumita sau nefericita in orice mod imaginabil. Asta e, femeile se corup usor, poate nu o fac constient, asa sunt ele construite, o doza de hedonism ceva mai mare by default.

Si ca tot imi place mie sa ma gandesc la solutia perfecta pentru orice situatie:

Idealul ar fi echilibrl perfect intre hedonism si empatie. Trebuie sa ne certam putin cu natura, s-o educam ca placerea sexuala este ceva ok in sine, nu-i obligatoriu s-o asociem cu iubirea sau reproducerea. Existenta principilor din spatele prostitutiei si homosexualitatii demonstreaza tocmai fiabilitatea principiului.

Totusi, empatia trebuie sa domine (talerele nu trebuie sa fie la acelasi nivel pentru a exista un echilibru). Femeile trebuie sa realizeze faptul ca avem multe chestii in comun (toti ragaim si pana si tipele dragute mai scapa gaze si au avut sau vor avea cosuri pe buci). Cu totii avem momente in care avem chef de persoana iubita, momente in care avem chef de prieteni (si de alti prieteni , ca totusi, persoana iubita ti-e in primul rand un prieten foarte apropiat… cu care ti-o mai si tragi) si, momente in care avem chef sa stam singuri, pentru a citi o carte, a ne uita la filme sau pentru a ne putea ocupa de un hobbyl acele momente de chill si liniste de care avem toti nevoie.

Trebuie sa tinem minte ca noi toti vrem aceleasi lucruri, nu e nimic jignitor, nu-i ceva personal, nu-i nimeni suparat, asta e situatia.

Dar, daca vrei sa controlezi putin aceasta situatie, si, esti suficient de inteligenta, oferi mai multa placere, mai multe zamete, mai multe glume, mai multa pasiune, implica-te mai mult si vei primi mai mult. Lenea si comoditatea strica tot, ca sa prmesti ceva trebuie sa si oferi, si aici femeile au un avantaj, pentru ele este atat de usor sa faca astea si, mai ales, placerea e dubla. Credeti-ma, daca vreti o forma de stabilitate emotional-afectiva-romantica trebuie sa tineti cont si sa respectati si cheful partenerului. Desigur, asemenea principiului din spatele religiei si aceasta a mea vizione este doar o reteta care ma face pe mine sa fiu fericit, incercati, vedeti daca merge, adaptati-o nevoilor voastre…modificati… universu-i open source, totul e bine. Desigur, aceasta reteta este pentru o fericire mai ampla, mai fara “rau”, raul fiind reprezentat atat de lene, comoditate, complacere si aroganta de a credea ca totul ti se cuvine fara sa fie nevoie sa depui pic de efort.

Si acum ca am terminat de aberat, sau, ma rog, am uitat sa integrez ce alte ganduri mi-au mai trecut prin cap in timp ce scriam asta, tin sa fac niste precizari:

In toata aceasta balarie literara (imi place sa cred ca ma si citeste cineva)am folosit cuvantul “femeie” o oaresce conotatie negativa. De fel nu sunt misogin, prin “femeie” nu m-am referit la toti reprezentantii Hommo Sapiens ce nu se pot mandri ca are cum sa le creasca per pe coaie. Daca se simte cineva jignit va cer scuze, “Femeie“  este oricine isi regaseste aceste trasaturi naspa in propria personalitate. Daca aveti coaie si va simtiti cu musca pe caciula tot “femei naspa” sunteti, pana si oameni cu pizda tot oameni sunt.

Oricum, stiu ca-i cam tabu doar sa descrii o femeie ca fiind “evil”, doar ca momentan is inca ceva mai alterat de pe urma unei sesiunie de pedepse emotionale efectuate fara mila. M-o bombardat cu balarii radioactive, d-alea de fac daune si dealungul timpului.

Pana una alta, Pace, multumesc Ex-Ses Platinum, si, sa fim toti oameni, e mai bine.

 

 

On THE VIEW Emma Thompson silent on Polanski

The Emma Thompson scenario re Roman Polanski is getting more and more bizarre. As I   indicated in a previous post, a number of feminist blogs and then the media in general reported that Thompson was to withdraw her name from a petition in support of Roman Polanski.  Apparently Thompson indicated to a student at Exeter College where she was lecturing that her name would be withdrawn from the petition.

What the dankprofessor found to be strange was that there was no public statement by Thompson announcing said withdrawal.  And to add to this strangeness, yesterday Thompson appeared on THE VIEW with an audience of a couple of million and said absolutely nothing about Polanski.

Such must have been disheartening to those avowed feminists who were very excited about Emma’s apparent withdrawal.  But as the dankprofessor has previously stated such is contradictory with feminism since these people are looking up to a power figure for validation, and, in this particular case, looking up to a celebrity.

And what also disturbs the dankprofessor is not that Emma Thompson signed or not signed or changed her mind about signing a petition, but rather that she finds signing to be sufficent.   Is it too much to expect the Emma Thompson make a public statement indicating her reasons for signing or not signing?  Signing a petition is easy, explaining why one signed is not so easy.  Are the anit-Polanski crusaders going to give a pass to Thomspson because she is a celebrity?

20 Jahre Mauerfall

Wie doch die Zeit vergeht. Gerade haben wir uns unterhalten, was wir heute vor 20 Jahren alle gemacht haben, an diesem Tag. Ich kann mich noch dran erinnern, daß ich bei Freunden in Halle war (ja, ich war im Osten an dem Tag, wie immer an vorderster Front mit dabei) und wir eine Party hatten. Wie es sich halt gehört. Ich bin mir auch ganz sicher, daß ich damals mit einem Ossi geknutscht hab. Und so.  Sozusagen als sofortiger zwischenmenschlicher Beitrag zur Ost-West-Wiedervereinigung.

Der Kerl Die Party muß auch ansonsten sehr gut gewesen sein, denn ich kann mich an rein gar nichts anderes mehr erinnern.

Natalie Portman talks lesbian

Natalie Portman is growing up. She would like you to have a great week and that her lesbian sex scene with Mila Kunis is:

“ not raunchy – it’s extreme”

She tells V Magazine that her role in Darren Aronofsky’s new film ” Black Swan” contains a serious lesbian sex scene with Mila Kunis and insists that ‘it’s not raunchy – it’s extreme’.

Black Swan focuses on a veteran New York City ballet dancer (Portman) who finds herself in an intensely competitive situation with a rival (Kunis), who might be a ghost or figment of Portman’s chracter’s imagination.[ReelLoop]

Here’s Nats in more innocent times in The Professional (loved this movie..classic stuff people)

How cute was her laugh.

Good times

 

“Chị ơi, đừng làm cave nữa”

Ai gặp Phòng đều phải thốt lên rằng “Phòng đẹp quá!”. Vóc dáng dỏng cao, người đầy đặn và nhất là gương mặt trắng hồng với đôi mắt rất thu hút của cô đã làm không biết bao nhiêu trái tim si tình trong cái xóm nhỏ này xao xuyến… Thậm chí, có chàng còn theo cô lên tận nương chè để ngọt nhạt tán tỉnh…

Trời xanh ghen phận má hồng

Phòng sinh ra trong một gia đình nghèo, cả gia đình có 5 miệng ăn chỉ trông vào 2 sào ruộng và 1 nương chè. Bố mẹ cô lấy nhau khi trạc tuổi cô bây giờ, chỉ biết mưu sinh bằng nghề nông và làm chè. Cái đói, cái nghèo cứ bám riết lấy gia đình cô.

Trong 3 chị em thì Phòng là đứa xinh và nhanh nhẹn, tháo vát nhất. Chị gái cô đã đi làm giúp việc tận trong miền Nam còn cô em gái hay ốm chỉ quanh quẩn làm việc nhà, duy chỉ có cô là được bố mẹ cho đi học. Thế nhưng, ở đất này, đứa nào cũng dang dở chuyện học hành vì không có tiền đi học. Phòng cũng không phải ngoại lệ, cô bỏ học khi học kỳ 2 lớp 9 mới bắt đầu được 3 tuần. Lúc ấy, em gái cô mắc bệnh hen, phải đưa đi viện chạy chữa. Bố mẹ cô cần tiền trang trải cuộc sống gia đình và chữa bệnh cho đứa em nên Phòng buộc phải thôi học. Cô vẫn nhớ như in hình ảnh đứa em nằm co quắp rít lên từng hồi, ánh mắt mệt mỏi của đứa em đã làm cô suy nghĩ rất nhiều khi ấy…

Phòng quyết định đi lấy chồng theo sự sắp đặt của bố mẹ! Đi lấy chồng để bớt một miệng ăn trong gia đình, để bố mẹ có thêm chút tiền đưa em đi chữa bệnh… Người mà bố mẹ chọn cho cô là một cậu trai gần nhà hơn cô 2 tuổi. Gia đình bên ấy thuộc hàng “thường” nhưng họ lại đặt trước mắt bố mẹ cô 5 triệu đồng làm lễ. Thế là, người 15, người 17 tuổi lấy nhau. Đám cưới diễn ra chóng vánh, nhiều thanh niên trong xóm ngỡ ngàng tiếc cho “hoa hậu xóm” lấy chồng sớm quá. Chỉ có Phòng là bình thản đón nhận sự sắp đặt này. Cô giấu nước mắt vào trong lòng và cười rất tươi trong ngày cưới… Cô nhận hết trách nhiệm về mình để đẹp lòng mọi người!

Cô giấu nước mắt vào trong lòng và cười rất tươi trong ngày cưới…

Thế nhưng, nụ cười ấy nở mỗi ngày một ít hơn. Chồng cô vẫn là một thanh niên ham chơi, ngày đi phụ vữa về lại đàn đúm bạn bè. Sau mỗi lần say xỉn là anh chồng lại đánh cô. Hai vợ chồng tay trắng lấy nhau, kinh tế gia đình không có, mỗi tháng anh chồng đưa cho cô được dăm trăm bạc lo cơm nước. Phải chạy ăn từng bữa nhưng anh ta luôn yêu cầu Phòng phải đưa tiền cho anh ta đi nhậu hoặc bắt cô đi mua rượu. Trái ý anh ta là Phòng đã bị chồng “táng” cả cán chổi quét nhà vào mặt, sau đó là những cái tát liên hồi. Lý do chồng cô đưa ra là vì cô đi chơi mà không mua rượu về! Bố mẹ chồng cô không chút mảy may quan tâm tới đứa con dâu cam chịu. Phòng cam chịu tất cả, không hé răng một lời nào với bất cứ ai… Cô lẳng lặng làm theo ý của tất cả mọi người bên nhà chồng. Việc nấu nướng, dọn dẹp nhà cửa đến việc đồng áng, nương rẫy, tất thảy đều một tay cô đảm nhiệm. Ngày nào cô cũng dậy từ sớm làm việc cho đến tận khuya nhưng chưa bao giờ cô được một lời động viên của chồng hay bố mẹ chồng. Nhưng cô đã không chịu đựng hơn được nữa khi anh chồng say xỉn nghe bạn nhậu nói cô “liếc mắt đưa tình” với một thanh niên ngoài chợ, anh ta đã nổi khùng vác dao đuổi, dọa giết Phòng. Buổi tối định mệnh ngày hôm đó đã đưa đẩy cuộc đời Phòng sang một hướng khác. Cô chạy như điên để trốn người chồng đang lên cơn thú tính. Cô không dám về nhà bố mẹ đẻ vì sợ những người thân yêu nhất của cô sẽ bị liên lụy. Bước chân lang bạt đã đưa Phòng xuống tận Hà Nội.

Đời bán hoa

Một mình thân gái giữa Thủ đô, không họ hàng thân thích, không tiền bạc, không nghề nghiệp, Phòng cũng như nhiều mảnh đời phụ nữ khác đã chọn cho mình cái nghề “sống về đêm” để mưu sinh. Phòng trở thành gái bán hoa tự do. Đời thiếu nữ của cô đã dâng hiến phí hoài cho một người đàn ông không xứng đáng với cô. Và giờ đây, khi không còn gì để mất, khi đã có những tổn thương trong lòng, Phòng có thể làm bất cứ điều gì, kể cả cái nghề bị xã hội khinh bỉ. Cô đã hoàn toàn mất niềm tin vào hôn nhân, hoàn toàn thất vọng về đàn ông. Cô đang trượt dốc không phanh. Nếu cô thất thân với những người khác thì cũng thế cả, tất cả không ai trân trọng, yêu thương cô thật lòng. Mà cô lại còn đang rất cần tiền. Cô cần tiền để nuôi chính bản thân mình. Cô cần tiền để thuốc thang để đóng học và thuốc thang cho đứa em gái. Con bé Phương càng lớn càng giống chị, cũng xinh xắn, ngoan ngoãn. Nó chưa một lần được cắp sách tới trường. Kỉ niệm những tối Phòng dạy em viết, làm toán lại ùa về. Và cô khóc “Em phải kiếm tiền cho cái Phương đi học. Em gái em cũng là phận gái, cũng trạc tuổi em, nếu không được học hành tử tế sẽ lại đi theo vết xe đổ như em. Đời em đã khổ, đời em đã lầm đường, em không thể để con bé giống mình được”.

Khi không còn gì để mất, khi đã có những tổn thương trong lòng, Phòng có thể làm bất cứ điều gì, kể cả cái nghề bị xã hội khinh bỉ…

Thế là, cứ chập tối, Phòng lại trang điểm, vận váy ngắn đứng ngoài đường vẫy khách. Những khách hàng của cô, trẻ có, già có, trung trung tuổi cũng có, cô tiếp tất cả bọn họ trong sự im lặng. Cô chưa bao giờ hé răng kêu ca một lời nào với khách. Cô để mặc họ, cô chiều theo mọi ý thích của họ, miễn là họ cho cô nhiều tiền. Phòng nhớ như in những lần tiếp khách, khuôn mặt họ ra sao, những lời hứa hẹn của họ với cô… Cô kể: “Một người đàn ông đáng tuổi ông ngoại cô khi mua cô trong một đêm, sáng tỉnh dậy đã hứa lấy cô làm vợ, mua cho cô một căn nhà nhỏ để làm bồ nhí để phục vụ cho nhu cầu của ông. Những ngày sau đó, ông ta vẫn tìm đến Phòng ở cung đường quen thuộc. Phòng vẫn tiếp ông ta như một khách hàng thân thiết. Cô nhận mọi sự chu cấp về vật chất của ông ta. Được hai tháng thì con gái ông ta tìm đến dằn mặt. Phòng lại ra đi khỏi căn nhà mà ông hứa sẽ sang tên cho cô. Cô không biết ngoài quan hệ mua bán, giữa cô và người đàn ông kia có tình cảm gì không. Cô chỉ biết rằng đã có lúc người đàn ông kia làm cô hạnh phúc khi chăm sóc yêu thương, chia sẻ với cô, ít nhất là hơn hẳn người chồng của cô không biết làm gì ngoài rượu và đánh vợ”. Và nhiều, rất nhiều người nữa đã hứa hẹn cho cô cái này, chu cấp cho cô thứ kia, sẽ cứu cô khỏi bùn lầy nhơ nhớp này ra sao… Cô nhớ hết, nhớ như in tất cả. Bởi với cô, những tài sản ấy quá lớn, cả đời bố mẹ cô còn chưa bao giờ mơ đến, thế mà cô lại được “cho”. Và ít ra, về tình cảm, cũng có những người chịu chia sẻ với cô đôi chút, dù cho đó là những lời nói gió bay, dù cho đó là những lời tán tỉnh vớ vẩn của đám đàn ông thừa tiền thiếu tình nhưng ít ra nó cũng làm Phòng vui, giúp cô đỡ cô quạnh phần nào.

“Chị ơi, chị đừng làm gái nữa…!”

Sau những thăng trầm trong cuộc đời người đàn bà 18 tuổi, những tưởng cô sẽ ngã quỵ, cô sẽ tìm đến một sự giải thoát nhẹ nhàng cho tâm hồn như không ít cô gái trẻ đã làm. Nhưng không, đúng lúc chơi vơi nhất giữa dòng đời, những kỷ niệm về gia đình, về hình ảnh những người thân trong gia đình cô lại ùa về. Phòng về thăm nhà, cô đưa cho cha mẹ được ba triệu, số tiền cô kiếm được sau nửa năm bươn trải dưới thành phố với bao nhục nhã ê chề. Số tiền đó chả đáng là bao so với nhịp sống đô thành nhưng ở quê cô, đó là một khoản kha khá. Với riêng cô, đó là một khoản tiền lớn, rất giá trị. Bởi kiếm được nó, cô đã phải đánh đổi quá nhiều hạnh phúc của bản thân. Sau đó, cô lại xách đồ đi Hà Nội. Nhưng vừa bước chân vào khu trọ, cô đã nghe thấy giọng con bé Phương gọi chị. Cái Phương đã lặng lẽ theo chị xuống tận Hà Nội.

Những ngày ở với chị, Phương bảo bố mẹ biết Phòng làm nghề gì. Bố mẹ rất thương chị nhưng không biết phải nói với chị như thế nào, phải giúp chị ra sao. Bố mẹ rất ân hận khi tham tiền gả chị cho một người không ra gì… Tất cả những điều ấy không nói ra nhưng Phòng đều hiểu. Tình cảm của bố mẹ dành cho cô, cô rõ hơn ai hết, nhưng nghề này, công việc này, cuộc sống này là do cô lựa chọn. Cô chưa bao giờ có ý trách mẹ, cũng như chưa bao giờ đổ tội cho bất cứ ai. Hàng ngày, Phương lang thang đến xin chạy bàn, rửa bát thuê cho các quán nhậu. Vừa đi làm, Phương vừa tìm lớp học may. Suốt thời gian ấy, Phòng vẫn “ngủ ngày cày đêm”.

Cuộc sống của Phòng bây giờ đã thay đổi hẳn…

Vốn khéo tay nên Phương học rất nhanh. Chỉ sau hai tháng, cô đã được một xưởng may gia công nhận vào làm. Đi làm ở xưởng, tháng lương đầu tiên được hơn một triệu, cô đã mang về tặng chị. Phòng cầm số tiền ấy trong nước mắt giàn giụa, cả hai chị em đều khóc. Số tiền nhỏ nhoi ấy Phương đã phải làm quần quật cả tháng trời mới có được, số tiền ấy là bao giọt mồ hôi của Phương. Phòng chưa bao giờ nghĩ đứa em vẫn hay lên cơn hen mỗi khi thời tiết thay đổi lại có ngày mang tiền về tặng cho mình, mà đó lại là những đồng tiền sạch, kiếm được bằng chính sức lao động của Phương. Phương đã nói trong nước mắt: “Đây là số tiền lương tháng đầu tiên của em. Chị hãy mang nó đi đăng ký học may, cả hai chị em mình sẽ làm công nhân may, tuy có vất vả nhưng những đồng tiền chúng ta kiếm được sạch sẽ. Chị sẽ làm được, em sẽ ở bên cạnh chị!”.

Hai chị em Phòng chuyển chỗ ở, Phòng muốn thay đổi bản thân mình ngay từ việc thay đổi không gian sống. Bởi những người hàng xóm hàng ngày vẫn nhìn cô với ánh mắt miệt thị thừa hiểu cô làm nghề gì và sống như thế nào. Cô và em gái mình dọn hết những bộ đồ cũn cỡn thiếu vải, những nước hoa son phấn rẻ tiền đem vứt đi. Phòng bắt đầu tập ngủ đêm theo đúng giờ sinh hoạt bình thường, sáng sáng hai chị em dậy sớm đi bộ rồi người đi học may, người xuống xưởng làm.

Cuộc sống của Phòng bây giờ đã thay đổi hẳn. Quá khứ của cô sẽ vĩnh viễn nằm lại trong nơi nào đó sâu kín nhất. Và bây giờ, khi có mặt trên đời được 18 năm, người đàn bà ấy mới thực sự bắt đầu cuộc sống cho riêng mình, sống cho ra sống, không sống hoài sống phí.

Theo Cảnh sát toàn cầu

www.birsever.com birsesver

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What Elton John lacks in hair...

It took me a really long time to realize that Elton John was gay.  It wasn’t at all like realizing that Santa Claus doesn’t exist, but I want to make that comparison anyway.  I guess because I love Elton John.  Not in a childlike, deer-eyed way, but in a mature, jaded way. 

Elton’s been on my mind lately.  Mostly because I just realized that he wears a toupee.  I don’t know why I’m so far behind on my Elton realizations…  But also I’ve been listening to him.  Reminiscing about him.  When I was younger, if I was driving with my parents, I would get uncomfortable when “I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues” came on the radio, because it goes like,

And I guess that’s why
They call it the blues
Time on my hands
Could be time spent with you
Laughing like children
Living like lovers
Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that’s why
They call it the blues

Whoa!  How can you not enjoy that as a chorus?  Children, lovers, blues.  Those are my favorite things right there.  Except for children.

Bernie Taupin there is to thank for those lyrics.  What a stud, right?  He pulls off that hair and sort-of turtleneck exceedingly well.  It’s nuts.

In conclusion, Elton John’s hilarious.  Lady Gaga should wear some of his outfits from the early 80s.  Particularly his glasses.  And also, I suppose, some of his wigs from right now.

One last thing.  This “I Want Love” song has always done it for me.  It’s dark.  Yet hopeful.  And Robert Downey, Jr. is in this video, which just may have started my love affair with him.  This video would also make an interesting thesis.  One could write all about love, sex, and attractive men who are empty inside like a marble-floored mansion.  But they’ve still got those chandeliers waiting to be lit in the foyer of their heart and the ballroom of their loins:

#29: Wine

Let me be clear right off of the bat:

Do I love wine? Yes. Does it get me schnockered? Yep. Do I know a lot about wine? Nope. Do I care? Hell no.

I just like that I look classy while drinking it.

It’s the perfect drink.

This has been the trend in recent years. More and more women who love to drink but are just tired of cheap beer or crappy Jamaican rum that tastes like a tube of Banana Boat sunscreen exploded into your rocks glass. Ick.

Yes, liquor is quicker. It is also more expensive. It can also make you look trashy. Ladies– we do not want to appear trashy. Hide that aspect of your personality at all costs. (One also must note that the beer/liquor combo can be a devastation one if not handled properly. What was it again? Beer before liquor….)How many ladies have you seen flash the bar after a few too many Chardonnays? Now go back and count the numerous instances in which the bar was flashed after Tequilla shots?

Case closed.

Look, we’ve all seen the more, well, mature ladies get frisky after the vino. My point rests with the younger crowd. That crowd is attempting to appear more mature without actually achieving that goal.

Setting all of this aside, any woman with a wine glass in hand looks cool as shit. Red or white she looks like she knows what she is doing. Hell, it could be Franzia, but if she’s owning it…well, you go girl. It’s an image thing. A lady drinking wine looks like she knows what she wants. She looks smarter. She looks successful. She looks desirable.

She looks sexy.

When I drink wine I feel inherently sexy. The way I hold the glass, the way I sip the wine, the smell of the wine…I could be rocking a sweatsuit covered in baby spit up but in my mind, I look (and smell) like Heidi Klum.

While I can’t speak for the men out there, to me, a woman slowly nursing a glass of Pinot Noir looks much sexier than that idiot in the tube top downstairs shooting Jager. She might be able to hang, she might be easy– but can she spell Jager? Ask her to try. It would be awesome. To top that off, tell her that her tube top is on backward. It’ll go on for about 20 minutes and you may see some boobies.

Wine drinking ladies are also looking for the wine drinking men. It’s the key to sexual success. Not only does wine get you ridiculously hammered, it can also result in a classy man getting lucky with a classy lady. If you are drinking wine, you are classy. If you are drinking beer, you are living on borrowed time. Keep that in mind.

Wow. She's so classy. I want to be classy too!

For the wine virgins out there, stick with easy wines so you don’t take a sip of Cabernet and choke on it like a total retard.

Note: If I so much as catch your ass drinking some shit like White Merlot, or White Zinfandel– you are dead to me. I may not know a lot about wine but I do know you can’t be trusted.

Put down the glass. Refill with Pinot. Strike a pose. Rehearse why you are drinking that wine. Sniff wine, swirl wine, drink wine.

It’s on.

You stay classy lady wine drinkers.

Zephyr 4.3 "Beneath the Metal Rain"

IT TAKES MASTODON a second or so to realise we really are going to have a rumble. Then he does his foot-stamping trick and if things were quieter you’d hear the leather straps of his chest harness strain with the stretch as he swells from just over six foot to a little over nine. Now his shoulders are the size of Christmas hams and his mutton chops loom about the size of small cats duct-taped to the side of his grinning, leering face.
            “Alright Zephyr, this is more like it.”
            “Take it easy, old man,” I say as I hurtle across the chamber. “Don’t break anything.”
            By that I mean anything of his own, of course. I’m quite happy for him to hand these guys their heads and we’ll just bury the corpses wherever the Wallachians suggest. Across the room I see Ash dragging himself away from the mound of disgustingness he has helped create, while the chick with the whip and the chick with the sword seem intent on looking scenic rather than helpful.
            I crash into the space previously occupied by Captain Jackass. In my wake another portal opens overhead and I should’ve seen this one coming, knowing this motherfucker plans ahead for all these sorts of things as metal shopping cart after metal shopping cart suddenly start plunging toward me and into the room. There’s something awkwardly painful about being hit by raining metal trolleys that I think the madman understands only too well. Even for me, as the first one rebounds from my forearms, head and knee simultaneously, it’s more than just my ego taking a battering.
            Pouring on a bit of super-speed, I manage to get out from beneath the metal rain, but Seeker and the Don aren’t so lucky. It’s only that I manage to wing Jackass with another lightning bolt that the portal sucks closed and the damned things stop coming. Moments later on the other side of the room there’s another sizzling noise and, through a hole no bigger than my fist, a shower of golf balls pour into the room. Ash and Madame Lash – there’s a good rhyming couple for you – go down on their arses and its only by the grace of her rubber-band teleporting trick that Samurai Girl gets to bitch-slap Jackass and force the latest wormhole closed as well.
            “Nice moves!” I yell. “Now watch your back.”
            The dude calling himself The Drill flies straight for Seeker, but there’s nothing I can do for her right now as the one with the kneepads starts unhooking goodies from his belt-pack and tossing them at me in the centre of the room. The first one is little more than a firecracker and then the next thing I know there’s tear gas flooding across the scene and I have to cover my nose and mouth with my hand and squint to get a good sense of his location. Perhaps Prankster has superhuman powers of regeneration to back up his gimmicks. If not, he may have a problem eating with anything other than a straw or perhaps a wet nurse after my tightly-clenched left connects with the side of his jaw and introduces him to the hard stone floor.
            Madame Lash does something lame with her whip. I suspect she’s trying to create a vortex to disperse the gas, which is a sweet idea except for Murderboy leaping from one wall to another and finally landing on her back and sinking his teeth into the side of her neck. To her credit, powers or none, the lady freaks out just fine enough to fling the weird-ass villain over her shoulder in a practised judo move. Just as emo-boi rights himself, she does a reverse spinning kick that sends him across the room and into the aforementioned pile of shopping trolleys.
            I am distracted by a right cross to my jaw. Spinning about, I can’t see anyone, and then fingers tap me on the shoulder and, like a total cad, I flip about and yet another punch snaps across my jaw. Their saving grace is there’s no superhuman strength in the blows. Across the chamber I see the so-called  captain give a little wave and then, through one of his teleport discs, his foot comes through and tries to get me in the jewels. No dice. I grab the good captain’s ankle and channel more than a handful of volts back through the portal. If he hasn’t fouled himself, I’d be surprised. The hole in space collapses taking his errant limbs with it.
            Time to get things moving.
            Through the tear-gas haze, Ash appears like a homeless man to grab The Drill either side of his helmet. The bad guy has put a few holes in Seeker’s shoulder and she’s laying on the floor looking uncharacteristically limp. It doesn’t matter. Ash is pissed. His fully unleashed power is lethal. The Drill’s head disintegrates into a hissing pile of white-hot dust and the helmet kind of falls apart as the silica of the dead bad guy’s skull and tissue pour from the front vent like sand from a broken hourglass. The still very rubbery and real headless body plops onto the floor next to Seeker, who screams shrilly, thereby drawing almost every eye in the room to the scene.
            Mastodon has been maced by Prankster. Samurai Girl has lines of drool hanging from her chin, two canisters of tear gas still gushing nearby. Madame Lash has lost her whip. She has a black eye and is bleeding heavily from a neck bite and another to one of her breasts, which has slipped free from her heavy corset. I direct a quick zap toward her assailant and the hair-dyed freak cartwheels away with the sort of noise I’d expect a cat to make.
            “Time to finish up, Don!” I yell with my eyes streaming, half-squeezed shut.
            I almost stumble over The Drill’s corpse, shield Seeker with my body as Prankster and then Jackass circle. I’m trying to do the maths and it won’t add up and that’s when I belatedly realise we’re missing someone.
            “Okay, where’s the other fucker?”
            If you thought Murderboy was creepy, it’s Kid Kaos who is the real psycho case on their team: Captain Jackass’s pet serial killer, which he keeps on a close emotional leash – except when he lets the leash go pretty long. And when he does, that’s trouble, because the Kid is a natural assassin. He can ghost as well as turn see-through, so you never know where he’s gonna appear.
            This time he wobbles back into view directly behind Ash, who is standing there in the white bodystocking I know his mum probably sewed for him, palms clawed and radiating their own dangerous vibe. Only he doesn’t have a clue about the danger immediately to his rear and the Don and I barely open our mouths before Kid Kaos slots into place, his turn to grab Ash by the skull and twist.
            Somehow amid his descent to the hard stones, Ash’s rolling eyes swivel around until they find mine; and they stay locked on me as Kid Kaos ghosts the young hero’s head into the stone floor and leaves it there, buried, fused, the corpse’s back painfully arched, arms splayed. And I swear, a hot white rage is building up inside me, but it’s tempered by a tiredness too, that everything has to end like this and that it’s not just Captain Jackass and his crew who have no respect for how things should be, but that it’s life itself that doesn’t respect the conventions of our particular genre. Ash was a nineteen-year-old hero just starting out in the world. He’d moved here from Detroit because he never had anything to do. Now he’s just a hundred-and-eighty pounds of pre-packaged meat going to spoil, or more likely wind up alongside the guy he killed in some nameless Wallachian garbage dump or swamp or unholy fucking backwater. I’m tired with the idea of payback, but until something better comes along, that’s the only option I have.

 

SO WE TEAR into them. Kid Kaos fades from view before I can blow a few thousand volts through his chest. Murderboy runs up one wall and vaults, something sticky about his hands as he crosses the ceiling like a monkey and comes down on Mastodon, who promptly throws him halfway across the room.
            Prankster pulls another weird-looking gun and fires at me and a net flops out, heavy little balls on the edges as it goes over. I put a scorch mark in the middle of his chest and he goes backward, adding to his bruise collection for today, but in the moment I struggle with the net, Jackass throws up one of his discs over my head and dusty red recycled house bricks suddenly pour down in their hundreds. Between the bricks and the dust I go down for a moment.
            I am relieved to see Samurai Girl run at just under mach around the room. She swings with practised swipes and cuts Murderboy and Jackass and bounds out of the way as Kid Kaos rematerialises. If I weren’t so angry I’d be amused by the sight of the hockey-masked freak picking up a pair of bricks and disappearing with them again. It’s not so funny when he materialises near Mastodon, phases the brick invisible and leaves it lodged in the big guy’s stomach. The Don twitches and drops as his system goes into shock and it’s really only blind luck that my own short circuit hits the fading assassin before he’s gone completely. Mask and all, Kid Kaos slides about ten feet and remains curled with a smoky residue overhead.
            I’m on hyper alert. When a teleport disc appears beside me, I throw myself into it and out the other end, grappling suddenly with the team leader before Jackass headbutts me with the helmet and I feel my nose break, no big deal, the blood running down my face unnerving as I blindly grasp his scarred, malignant face and start to squeeze. At the same time I hammer short right jabs into his ribs, feeling them break, and somewhere amid all that the laughter goes out of him and he begins to freak, thrashing wildly, screaming, clawing at my grimace as I ram my knee into his crotch and then make the mistake of hurling him bodily across the room.
            He bounces across the stone and comes up with his face bleeding almost as bad as the sword-wound to his side. Captain Jackass spits blood and shakes his head, face a mask of fury.
            “You can have this one, Zeph. Next time you won’t be so lucky. I’ll make sure of it.”
            I am left to ponder any hidden meanings in this as he throws teleport discs underneath his mates, including the unconscious ones, and they disappear in short notice from view.
            I wipe leather across my bleeding face without much satisfaction as Samurai Girl tends to Seeker’s pierced shoulder. Madame Lash isn’t going anywhere and that’s even more terribly true for Ash. Mastodon drops to his knees as well and gives me a nod with his grave face.
            “Could do with a few more hit points there, boss,” he says.
            I can only nod. “At least this time the little bastard didn’t dump me in the Himalayas when he was finished,” I try and grin and fail.
            The silent cowled figures of the Wallachian monks appear through a distant doorway bearing the now familiar sight of a floating stretcher. I hold up my hands for two more.
            “Not so crash hot, huh Zephyr?” Seeker says in a pained voice.
            “I guess we weren’t really geared up for that,” I say. “Any idea how the hell they found us here?”
            “I’ll have to ask the priests in charge of the cloaking device,” Seeker replies. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
            I motion to the dead kid. “Tell it to him.”
            “The Wallachians, you know. . . .”
            “Keep your fucking priests off him,” I say more harshly than I intend, but the vision in my mind’s eye is compelling and probably not completely inaccurate. “It could’ve been a worse death.”
            “Ash might have something different to say to that,” she says.
            “I’m not about to find out. Leave it be.”
            We exchange knowing looks, hers doe-like, mine taciturn, and Madame Lash gets up in the middle of our exchange and grabs her rig and staggers for the door like a drunk hooker in search of a payphone.
            I harrumph. “I’d better see the lady out.”
            And that’s that.

Ecstasy (a daydream)

I asked him how he wanted to find me when he came into the room. His response was short, tight with need and command. ‘Jacking off, but no Cumming, eyes closed.” He knew I’d had a rough day and that I was still in ass kicking mode. I thought for a moment about not complying, but he knows me inside and out. There was a reason he’d demanded it. I let go to the trust I have in him and stripped naked, lying back against the pillows.

There was a tight finger of tension spiking through my head, but I took a deep breath and slid my hands down my body. I stopped at my breasts for a moment, playing with my nipples. They are sensitive and pulled tight at the first touch. I trailed my nails gently across my stomach but I knew this soft play was not what he had told me to do.

Hurting myself does not hold the same thrill for me as it does when someone else does it to me. I am certain there are logical reasons for this, but it doesn’t help when you’re supposed to be getting yourself all hot and bothered and all you can think about it when he touches you. Your hands become inadequate, less.

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. I couldn’t help but fall back into my day.  I was just too pent up. I continued to play with my clit and my body responded, but my mind was locked away in real life. What had been the beginnings of a tension headache now knifed through my conscious and all I thought I wanted was to hide in the dark and be still.

I heard the door open, felt him in the room. I’m not sure why I have this ability, but I always know if it is my lover or someone else in my presence. I relaxed a little knowing he would take care of me, but there was a small part that wanted to say no. I didn’t think there was a way for me to relax into the actual enjoyment of our time together and the last thing I wanted was to disappoint my Master.

He touched me then, tightly grabbing a nipple and twisting. That one act let all of my doubt fall away and I gasped, my head coming off the bed. He pushed me roughly down and I knew I was to stay where he had put me. I continued to lightly stroke my clit, occasionally sliding a finger inside.

I heard my Master getting undressed; felt him standing over me, watching me. I spread my legs further apart so he could see more easily and he was there instantly, burying his face in my pussy. My back arched and I moaned deeply. I stroked his hands, his arms trying to convey how much I appreciated him but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the bed. I writhed as he sucked at my clit and begged him to cum. He allowed it and the first of many ripped through me.