Afterglow

Sometimes I feel so inspired to post but just have nothing to say. I should work on that.

What I like lately is how little time it takes me to come. I'd heard that the 30s were rockin' years for women, but always only sort of half believed it. Until it happened, that is.

Sometimes I wonder whether it's a function of actual physical changes, or simply one of being more comfortable with one's self -- less inhibited and more in tune with what feels best where.

A new battery in the pocket rocket is always a boon, and the left side of my clitoris is always the best place for it. No matter how many times I use it, it's always best in the same place. It never gets old, and it always leaves me primed for more. And having learned to grit my teeth and power on into the next wave continues to bring orgasm after delightful orgasm. Now I just need to come up with a name for that new position.

Oh, and don't stop holding me down. That's hot. And that playlist. More Pavlovian music for me. Next time one of those songs comes on while we're in a store, find a way to slip your hand down my pants and see just how wet I am for you.

Basking

3:52 AM. Reflecting is more fun than going to sleep.

Yes, I took you. That's how I intended it to be. From planting you face down on the bed, to feeling your cum under my feet as I walked across the carpet.

You're going to get busted for the bite mark on the back of your neck. That's kinda fun.

Those who consider it impossible to love fucking the same woman for 20 years are wrong. Fact is, they just don't have the right woman.

I do.

Eveready...

Time: 3:30 AM, Sunday morning, after 2 movies
Place: Bathroom

Peter: "I can't believe it's 3:30 and we didn't even have sex"

Randi:"I assume you mean yet"

The Edge of Wetness

Holy Hell.

Honestly. I know I'm a squirter, but I didn't know that I could generate THAT much liquid. Seriously.

Also, how the fuck is it that you can make so fucking hot after all these years? I mean, isn't that supposed to wear off at some point? At least cool down? It's not supposed to keep increasing like this, is it? Not that I'm complaining. Damn. Far from it.

Pass the water, please. I think I'm dehydrated now.

Yum!

How can people have sex without making noise? This is what I'd like to know. I mean, really. How? Childbirth without noise is painful and repressed. Sex without noise is, at the very least, repressed. Noise frees you - lets you soar. So your throat gets a little sore, but damn, how can you have any fun if you're trying to hold it all in?

Also, I'd like to say how lovely it is to start and end the day with a good shag. Yum.

Thank God the neighbors have dogs. Great cover noise.

And now it is the time for writing smut. Thank you. ^_^

Selkie Continued

She rises from the pool
Dripping
Gleaming in the moonlight
Shakes crystal sparks of water
Carelessly from her hair
Then casts aside a shadow
Sits and lets the gentle breeze
Caress her
Enfold her in its loving embrace

The unseen watcher
Clenches his fingers
Holds his breath as she arches her back
Offering her breasts to the silver fingers of moonlight
Slips a hand down beteen her legs
And begins a slow
Langorous teasing

Rivulets of saltwater stream
Unnoticed
Down his face
As time freezes
For just a moment
And when it starts again
He is already halfway to her
Moving like water
Over the slick
Treacherous rock

She opens her eyes
And he sees no surprise
Only expectation
As if she'd known
Or planned it
All along

And then he's upon her
Grasping her hair
Pressing her to him
His mouth on hers
The saltiness of the sea
Mingling with the sweetness of their kiss

He tears his shirt
Casts it aside
To join that shadow
That lies now
Crumpled
On the rock

Her hands slide up his back
Carressing nippled skin
And taut muscle
To entwine in the dripping
Black curls of his hair

When he enters her
The sea surrounds them
The stars attend them
A sprinkling of diamonds
Across the black velvet sky

Slowly at first
So agonisingly slowly
As if there were all the time
In the world
And then
In a rising rythm
To match the hiss and swoosh of each wave
And with a growing fierceness
That rivals the pounding of the surf
He thrusts
Her body arching to meet his
Like the curl of a wave
Her cries like that of the sea birds
In an orgy of discovery

And then he stiffens
Arches into her
As the perfect wave
Engulfs them both
The warm salt foam
Uniting them
Binding them

When they rise
She offers him
Repentant
The shadow of his selkie skin
But he shakes his head
Draws her to him
Kisses the salt spray from her breast

Her greatest hold on him
Goes far deeper than that

Pwned

What's a girl to do when her kids have commandeered BOTH copies of the new Harry Potter book? I think we all know the answer to that one.

It's chilly for July and when we climbed into bed, my arms were covered in goosebumps. I had a hunch things might warm up quickly though. Especially with a new battery in the pocket rocket.

It's funny how much difference a new battery can make.

Peter's mouth was hot on me while I buzzed, and I found story fragments and little self-made movie vignettes flashing through my head as my clit swelled to bursting. I came very close to orgasm several times, but with that knowledge that I sometimes get that it's going to be too intense -- painful even, if I don't back off and change things up a little. Pater's wandering hand found my nipples, stroking them lightly, making them stand out rock hard and tingly until I found just the right balance and that amazing wave lifted me up high, higher and higher until I fell over the edge and everything crashed down around me, over me, through me.

It's right at that point that the hair trigger comes into play. I know I've mentioned it before, but I think it's important, so I'm mentioning it again. It's right here that I find things so damn intense that I never used to cross that threshold. But now I know that if I power through, I'll come again in seconds, almost always with a hot gush of fluid. And again. And again.

It's funny how this works, because sometimes each orgasm is distinct, and at other times, it's like one incredibly long orgasm with more intense peaks all along the way.

Eventually, it was Peter's turn. I licked him a bit, sucked him, straddled him, and lowered myself onto his hard cock. Heaven. I had the urge to grab the buzzer again and came instantly. It seemed that every time I moved on him, I was in danger of coming again. I say danger, but it's not like I was trying to avoid having orgasms. And so I did. Again and again. The song in our "cover music" inspired some little hip circles, which Peter found entertaining.

But what was even better was when we swapped spots, and I lay on my back with Peter above me, parting me once again, and lacing his fingers through mine, pinning my hands to the bed above my head. There's something about being overpowered like this -- owned -- that is incredibly titillating. A little hard thrusting and I thought I'd burst. So fucking good.

Maybe it's become Pavlovian (it certainly involves plenty of moisture) but every time Peter withdraws after coming, I come again. Just as the ridge of his cock brushes past my G-spot it starts, and he's learned to slide up over my clit as soon as he's out, prompting more gushing. I certainly wasn't dehydrated. Though I may be now. ^_^

Could someone turn on the fan please?