He lowered himself into the deep bath. It was a little too hot, the sort he had to take his time getting into as his body acclimatised. He slowly crouched until he was sat down and stretched out as far as possible. Bending his knees up he sank down until the bubbles touched his chin. He closed his eyes as the heat engulfed his body.
When he opened them again, he saw her sat precariously on the linen basket, writing a list. She liked lists. The yellow post it notes she favoured could be found all over. Shopping lists, presents, jobs to do and some more interesting ones too. Once she wrote a list just for him. Her top 5 desires. He smiled to himself at the memory. They had ticked off all of them long ago.
Her robe had slipped open. One pale breast exposed where the fabric should have overlapped. The silk had also slipped off her thigh and underneath he could see the curve of her bottom, the place he loved to lightly bite. He began to get hard. Underwater his cock began to grow. He watched himself through a gap in the foam.
Attention taken from her writing, she saw a sultry look cross his face. She walked across the room and perched on the edge of the bath.
He grinned.
'Hello you.'
'Hello yourself', she said back, nodding towards the erection now just poking out of the water.
She thought he looked delicious lying there, wet, warm, totally relaxed apart from his cock, which was ready for action. Unable to resist she rolled up her sleeve and reached for him, feeling under the water to where the hardness began. Back on her feet she untied her belt and let the robe slip off her shoulders and onto the floor.
'Move up baby'.
She stepped into the bath and wrapped her legs around his sides.
'I'm going to wash you'.
Pouring bodywash into her palm she felt content to be doing this for him. A creamy lather formed in her hands and she began to stroke it all over his shoulders and chest. Her soapy fingers slipped around his body, over his nipples and under his arms, feeling the hairs she liked so much.
With a smile on his lips he watched her as she focused on cleansing, rubbing and scrubbing. Her concentration amused him at first. He liked all the attention she was giving his body, the intimacy.
Strangely overwhelmed, he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply, trying to express his appreciation. It was a kiss that took away her breath. Kissing him back, tongues searching, devouring each other, bodies trying to get impossibly close while their legs slipped and squeaked against the sides of the bath. They climbed out still kissing, holding on to each others wet arms for support. Onto the bath mat, treading on each others toes, knees banging into knees, his cock pressing against her pubic bone.
Still wet they stumbled towards the bed, his kisses and lip biting led her there like a dance, damp footprints left behind. They fell on the bed, him on top. Bathwater dripped from his hair onto her cheeks as the frantic kisses stopped. No need for translation, the eyes spoke a million words in a language only they could understand. She arched her back and spread her legs wider to enable him to get close. 'Closer' was her silent plea. Stomachs together, arms pressed against arms, fingers intertwined. This was slow, hard, gut wrenching. Controlled physically but emotional touchpaper. All too much to comprehend she closed her eyes and let the sex take control. It was a roller coaster but one she knew, although the sheer height, twists and jolts continued to surprise her. She knew if she opened her eyes it would be to the unknown. She kept them closed until hours later she fell asleep, his beautiful body still wrapped around her in the damp bed.
Thursday, 27 September 2007
Monday, 24 September 2007
Base
Sometimes i would like to get what i want without having to ask for it.
I want controlling, instructing, ordering. Let me see a look on your face that tells me you have been consumed by, wrapped up in and completely flooded by lust. Then i will feel it.....passion, heat, thrill and your power over me.....all the emotions that i am discovering are a necessity to me.
Alone i can pretend that i am that girl. She doesn't feel guilty or selfish. She deserves to get everything she desires. She gets more than what she even knew was out there. Do you know why?
Because when someone gives her those things (and as a gift - no pay back required) they get the absolute best of her. Simple but so hard to achieve.
She can be tested, pushed, stretched beyond limits and left in a crumpled heap, panting, exhausted.
She has her eyes open and is breathing it all in, that's why.
So, how can you expect to get what you want if you don't ask for it? What i am struggling with is the fact that i think it has got to be an essential part and at the core of someone to give like that. If that isn't the case then can they learn it? Would it feel as good? It is a base emotion, you either have it or you don't. Am i wrong?
I want controlling, instructing, ordering. Let me see a look on your face that tells me you have been consumed by, wrapped up in and completely flooded by lust. Then i will feel it.....passion, heat, thrill and your power over me.....all the emotions that i am discovering are a necessity to me.
Alone i can pretend that i am that girl. She doesn't feel guilty or selfish. She deserves to get everything she desires. She gets more than what she even knew was out there. Do you know why?
Because when someone gives her those things (and as a gift - no pay back required) they get the absolute best of her. Simple but so hard to achieve.
She can be tested, pushed, stretched beyond limits and left in a crumpled heap, panting, exhausted.
She has her eyes open and is breathing it all in, that's why.
So, how can you expect to get what you want if you don't ask for it? What i am struggling with is the fact that i think it has got to be an essential part and at the core of someone to give like that. If that isn't the case then can they learn it? Would it feel as good? It is a base emotion, you either have it or you don't. Am i wrong?
Friday, 21 September 2007
11am
In the hours that had passed between leaving the office and the 10.30am bus ride she had been unable to keep control.
Piles of discarded underwear lay on her bedroom floor, different skirts, blouses; she had even tried on her fishnets, blushing at her obviousness and pushing them to the back of the drawer. Settling on a rich, dark purple set that contrasted with her pale skin, she spent a restless night guessing and anticipating.
What was his definition of punishment? The element of fear was certainly thrilling but was she out of her depth? What limits did she have and would he go beyond them if she asked him to stop? After all she did not know this man on a personal level, merely obeyed his instructions as to the work he wanted her to do. However she knew how he ran his hand through the back of his hair while he mulled over a problem, she watched carefully when he would occasionally close his eyes and and lean back in his chair. How she wanted to kiss him, place her lips on his while his eyes were shut.
She opened the office door at exactly 11am. By deliberately not arriving early she had attempted to gain some of the control but as soon as he turned around any confidence slipped away.
'Stand here please', he said, pointing to the space next to his chair and desk.
She stood there, hoping he couldn't hear the way each breath faltered.
'Undress'
He turned back to his computer screen as she carefully took off each item, placing them on the desk. Inside she was screaming, 'Why? Why aren't you watching me strip for you?' But no words would come. Everything gone she stood, just waiting, flushed with anger and arousal.
He turned his chair to face her and removed his glasses. He leaned closer and his eyes travelled up her body, slowly, as if he was trying to memorise every part.
'Make yourself come as you did yesterday'
She suddenly felt strangely disappointed. Was this all he wanted? To watch her masturbate in his chair?
He got up and offered his seat. When she didn't raise her leg as before, he gripped her ankle and placed her foot up on the desk exposing her, pink and glistening. Again she began stroking and as the blissful feelings began to overtake her body she lost her inhibitions and moved her fingers just as she liked. Fast, fast, slow, drawing out and elongating the ecstasy. Bringing herself to the brink, she finally let go, gushing over her fingers and the leather of his chair.
'Mmmmm......good girl'
The large wet patch made her feel ashamed and proud at the same time. Was that it she wondered?
'On your feet please.'
He helped her out of the chair once more. She reached for her pile of clothes.
'Did i say get dressed?'
These words sent sparks through her veins, reaching every nerve, every pore, every hair on her body.
'Bend over.' He pointed to the arm of his chair.
Barely considering the vulnerability of this position, she bent over, her tummy resting on the wide leather arm. She supported her upper body with her elbows and watched his reflection in the monitor as he removed his belt.
Panic. Is this going to really hurt? Somehow the invisible rope of lust and her willingness to submit to him tied her there.
'Tilt your hips'
She obliged.
She gasped. It wasn't the belt.
Hot and hard he skillfully slid his cock inside her. With every stroke she felt the warmth of his body against her bare arse. The intense and rhythmic thrusts causing such heat. Slowly at first, creeping from the tips of her toes, up the inside of her thighs, down her arms, over her breasts, filling her head. She let him take over. Right there in that moment she belonged to him.
Her arms gave way and her face fell onto the seat.
'Smell where you came, taste it.'
He placed his hand on her hair, the other on her hip.
Everything was telling her this was wrong, dirty, obscene even. It was that thought that made her press her face into the pool of her come, smear it all over her cheeks and drink in the smell.
As the power of her orgasm built, her pussy gripped him so tight, almost pushing him out of her. He grabbed both hips to steady himself as her jolting frame surrounded his cock. He thrust again, pushing himself so deep as he came inside her.
She lay panting, shaking, weak. He helped her up onto her trembling legs, and turned her around to face him. She was totally out of her depth. Completely vulnerable. She had unearthed a whole new self that even she had no clue existed.
He cradled her elbows as she stepped back into her skirt and held out her blouse as if aiding her with a coat. Almost within reach of reality she was able to put on her shoes and make towards her desk.
'Wait.'
He leaned forward, held her face in his hands and kissed her lips so tenderly.
'Thank you'.
Piles of discarded underwear lay on her bedroom floor, different skirts, blouses; she had even tried on her fishnets, blushing at her obviousness and pushing them to the back of the drawer. Settling on a rich, dark purple set that contrasted with her pale skin, she spent a restless night guessing and anticipating.
What was his definition of punishment? The element of fear was certainly thrilling but was she out of her depth? What limits did she have and would he go beyond them if she asked him to stop? After all she did not know this man on a personal level, merely obeyed his instructions as to the work he wanted her to do. However she knew how he ran his hand through the back of his hair while he mulled over a problem, she watched carefully when he would occasionally close his eyes and and lean back in his chair. How she wanted to kiss him, place her lips on his while his eyes were shut.
She opened the office door at exactly 11am. By deliberately not arriving early she had attempted to gain some of the control but as soon as he turned around any confidence slipped away.
'Stand here please', he said, pointing to the space next to his chair and desk.
She stood there, hoping he couldn't hear the way each breath faltered.
'Undress'
He turned back to his computer screen as she carefully took off each item, placing them on the desk. Inside she was screaming, 'Why? Why aren't you watching me strip for you?' But no words would come. Everything gone she stood, just waiting, flushed with anger and arousal.
He turned his chair to face her and removed his glasses. He leaned closer and his eyes travelled up her body, slowly, as if he was trying to memorise every part.
'Make yourself come as you did yesterday'
She suddenly felt strangely disappointed. Was this all he wanted? To watch her masturbate in his chair?
He got up and offered his seat. When she didn't raise her leg as before, he gripped her ankle and placed her foot up on the desk exposing her, pink and glistening. Again she began stroking and as the blissful feelings began to overtake her body she lost her inhibitions and moved her fingers just as she liked. Fast, fast, slow, drawing out and elongating the ecstasy. Bringing herself to the brink, she finally let go, gushing over her fingers and the leather of his chair.
'Mmmmm......good girl'
The large wet patch made her feel ashamed and proud at the same time. Was that it she wondered?
'On your feet please.'
He helped her out of the chair once more. She reached for her pile of clothes.
'Did i say get dressed?'
These words sent sparks through her veins, reaching every nerve, every pore, every hair on her body.
'Bend over.' He pointed to the arm of his chair.
Barely considering the vulnerability of this position, she bent over, her tummy resting on the wide leather arm. She supported her upper body with her elbows and watched his reflection in the monitor as he removed his belt.
Panic. Is this going to really hurt? Somehow the invisible rope of lust and her willingness to submit to him tied her there.
'Tilt your hips'
She obliged.
She gasped. It wasn't the belt.
Hot and hard he skillfully slid his cock inside her. With every stroke she felt the warmth of his body against her bare arse. The intense and rhythmic thrusts causing such heat. Slowly at first, creeping from the tips of her toes, up the inside of her thighs, down her arms, over her breasts, filling her head. She let him take over. Right there in that moment she belonged to him.
Her arms gave way and her face fell onto the seat.
'Smell where you came, taste it.'
He placed his hand on her hair, the other on her hip.
Everything was telling her this was wrong, dirty, obscene even. It was that thought that made her press her face into the pool of her come, smear it all over her cheeks and drink in the smell.
As the power of her orgasm built, her pussy gripped him so tight, almost pushing him out of her. He grabbed both hips to steady himself as her jolting frame surrounded his cock. He thrust again, pushing himself so deep as he came inside her.
She lay panting, shaking, weak. He helped her up onto her trembling legs, and turned her around to face him. She was totally out of her depth. Completely vulnerable. She had unearthed a whole new self that even she had no clue existed.
He cradled her elbows as she stepped back into her skirt and held out her blouse as if aiding her with a coat. Almost within reach of reality she was able to put on her shoes and make towards her desk.
'Wait.'
He leaned forward, held her face in his hands and kissed her lips so tenderly.
'Thank you'.
Monday, 17 September 2007
Mr. Stevens
A little bit of escapism.
A little part-time work, something to keep her mind active, that was what was needed.
And so that is how she had become P.A. to Mr. Stevens. It was only a couple of hours a day but she enjoyed the Independence it gave her. There was also another reason.
Ever since the first morning spent in his company, her private thoughts were occupied by fantasies and scenarios. He had shown her all the things that were expected of her in a polite but authoritative way and then left her to get on with her work.
Why was this man effecting her in this way? For the first time in her life she felt so keen to please, to make his coffee just right and everytime he spoke to her she was certain he saw her blushes. The hours before work had become part of the excitement. Choosing just the right outfit, smart enough to look efficient, elegant enough to attract his attention.The perfect shade of lipstick just in case he should glance at her mouth, her lips as she spoke.
Walking to his office the butterflies would intensify and she had to try to calm herself down before they would be in the same room where her desire to be noticed was almost audible.
She wondered, had he seen her eyes watching him as he sat at his desk?
Had he noticed the stockings she wore and the way she crossed her legs to expose a hint of lace?
Had he felt her warmth, seen her breasts in that sheer white bra as she leaned over him just a little too close, just a little too far, as she brought him his coffee?
Her behaviour almost embarrassed her but she was unable to stop, such was her need to be touched by this man. The tension was so uncontainable that crashing through her door after work she would run upstairs, lay across her bed and place her hand in her knickers and stroke the wetness pooled between her lips.
This weeks work promised to be uneventful as Mr.Stevens was to be away from his office. She was sure he had seen the disappointment flash across her face before she had regained her composure. On with her work.
The large, oak desk, the leather chair, the keyboard touched by his fingers, the smell of this room twisted her insides, flooded her senses.
She sat in his chair, pushing it from side to side. Imagining his hands, his arms, his shoulders, she squeezed her thighs tight.
Could she be wet already?
Stroking her nipples through her bra she slipped off her heels, stretching and arching her back. Buttons were undone, zips pulled down, knickers dropped to the base of the chair. This was so unlike her and it thrilled her to strip, here in this office.
With one leg up on his desk she stroked and circled her clit, gasping as she brushed past her special place. Getting faster, wetter, her fingers worked her body well, back and bottom lifting off the seat.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her wrist. Eyes wide she looked at him.
'Come', he instructed.
'Yes.....'
Quickly her juices spilled onto the leather and droplets of her satisfaction rolled to the top of her stocking.
He took hold of her fingers and put them on her lips which she licked, their eyes locked.
'Good girl. Now get dressed.'
He held her hand as she stood up.
'Back to work please'.
'Yes. Yes Mr.Stevens'.
Sat at her desk still shaking he spoke into her ear.
'I think you should be punished, don't you?'
Unable to speak she just nodded.
'Be here at 11am'.
Before he left her side he ran a fingertip from her earlobe to her collarbone.
'Don't be late'.
A little part-time work, something to keep her mind active, that was what was needed.
And so that is how she had become P.A. to Mr. Stevens. It was only a couple of hours a day but she enjoyed the Independence it gave her. There was also another reason.
Ever since the first morning spent in his company, her private thoughts were occupied by fantasies and scenarios. He had shown her all the things that were expected of her in a polite but authoritative way and then left her to get on with her work.
Why was this man effecting her in this way? For the first time in her life she felt so keen to please, to make his coffee just right and everytime he spoke to her she was certain he saw her blushes. The hours before work had become part of the excitement. Choosing just the right outfit, smart enough to look efficient, elegant enough to attract his attention.The perfect shade of lipstick just in case he should glance at her mouth, her lips as she spoke.
Walking to his office the butterflies would intensify and she had to try to calm herself down before they would be in the same room where her desire to be noticed was almost audible.
She wondered, had he seen her eyes watching him as he sat at his desk?
Had he noticed the stockings she wore and the way she crossed her legs to expose a hint of lace?
Had he felt her warmth, seen her breasts in that sheer white bra as she leaned over him just a little too close, just a little too far, as she brought him his coffee?
Her behaviour almost embarrassed her but she was unable to stop, such was her need to be touched by this man. The tension was so uncontainable that crashing through her door after work she would run upstairs, lay across her bed and place her hand in her knickers and stroke the wetness pooled between her lips.
This weeks work promised to be uneventful as Mr.Stevens was to be away from his office. She was sure he had seen the disappointment flash across her face before she had regained her composure. On with her work.
The large, oak desk, the leather chair, the keyboard touched by his fingers, the smell of this room twisted her insides, flooded her senses.
She sat in his chair, pushing it from side to side. Imagining his hands, his arms, his shoulders, she squeezed her thighs tight.
Could she be wet already?
Stroking her nipples through her bra she slipped off her heels, stretching and arching her back. Buttons were undone, zips pulled down, knickers dropped to the base of the chair. This was so unlike her and it thrilled her to strip, here in this office.
With one leg up on his desk she stroked and circled her clit, gasping as she brushed past her special place. Getting faster, wetter, her fingers worked her body well, back and bottom lifting off the seat.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her wrist. Eyes wide she looked at him.
'Come', he instructed.
'Yes.....'
Quickly her juices spilled onto the leather and droplets of her satisfaction rolled to the top of her stocking.
He took hold of her fingers and put them on her lips which she licked, their eyes locked.
'Good girl. Now get dressed.'
He held her hand as she stood up.
'Back to work please'.
'Yes. Yes Mr.Stevens'.
Sat at her desk still shaking he spoke into her ear.
'I think you should be punished, don't you?'
Unable to speak she just nodded.
'Be here at 11am'.
Before he left her side he ran a fingertip from her earlobe to her collarbone.
'Don't be late'.
Sunday, 16 September 2007
What I Know Today
On a scrap of paper i have the final post i was going to make.
You have probably seen it coming, the difficulties i have in writing what i want to say without hurting J but at the same time being true. It all got too much and in the middle of a hideous storm; emotion, hurt, confusion all flying around wildly, it was decided that was it . No more blog.
NO. MORE. BLOG.
If that is what it takes, i am prepared to do it. Give it all up. Stop doing something i have come to love. Maybe this seems silly but i have cried buckets over the thought of not being able to write. I know what i have to say isn't ground breaking or especially clever but the relief i have felt in the past couple of months has been utterly overwhelming and so incredibly reassuring that i've wept. Many times. This has been simply the most amazing discovery and thank you all for letting me in. Reading your words has made me feel less alone than i ever thought possible.
Skulking around the playground on Friday pick up, wearing huge sunglasses to cover my smeared mascara and red eyes ( i really am the worlds most unattractive crier) it hit me. I am not a victim. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself girl. Get up, get on with it. I'm 31. I've worked hard to get to this place in my head, starting to accept that i'm actually OK. I'm not giving it up, no way. I'm not falling apart and i am unable to explain what that knowledge means to me. It's HUGE is the best i can do.
I have always wanted someone to tell me what to do but hooray, hooray, hooray, i don't anymore.
I know what to do.
I'm scaring myself now! I'm terrified if i can tell you the truth. But that's alright, terrified in a good way if that makes any sense at all. I'm still here.
Someone told me that maybe this is a good thing, that this needed to happen. They are right. Because now i know for absolute certain that i can do this, this life and all the stuff that it brings. I can prioritize and establish what is important and what is crucial.
So, as you can see i'm still blogging and with the support of those around me.
You have probably seen it coming, the difficulties i have in writing what i want to say without hurting J but at the same time being true. It all got too much and in the middle of a hideous storm; emotion, hurt, confusion all flying around wildly, it was decided that was it . No more blog.
NO. MORE. BLOG.
If that is what it takes, i am prepared to do it. Give it all up. Stop doing something i have come to love. Maybe this seems silly but i have cried buckets over the thought of not being able to write. I know what i have to say isn't ground breaking or especially clever but the relief i have felt in the past couple of months has been utterly overwhelming and so incredibly reassuring that i've wept. Many times. This has been simply the most amazing discovery and thank you all for letting me in. Reading your words has made me feel less alone than i ever thought possible.
Skulking around the playground on Friday pick up, wearing huge sunglasses to cover my smeared mascara and red eyes ( i really am the worlds most unattractive crier) it hit me. I am not a victim. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself girl. Get up, get on with it. I'm 31. I've worked hard to get to this place in my head, starting to accept that i'm actually OK. I'm not giving it up, no way. I'm not falling apart and i am unable to explain what that knowledge means to me. It's HUGE is the best i can do.
I have always wanted someone to tell me what to do but hooray, hooray, hooray, i don't anymore.
I know what to do.
I'm scaring myself now! I'm terrified if i can tell you the truth. But that's alright, terrified in a good way if that makes any sense at all. I'm still here.
Someone told me that maybe this is a good thing, that this needed to happen. They are right. Because now i know for absolute certain that i can do this, this life and all the stuff that it brings. I can prioritize and establish what is important and what is crucial.
So, as you can see i'm still blogging and with the support of those around me.
Friday, 14 September 2007
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
The Same But Different
OK, no more odd rambling posts for a bit. There has been lots on my mind and i couldn't quite put it down in a sensible way so it ended up sounding a bit cryptic, sorry!
Things have been a bit tricky lately. I'll try and explain....
J and i married young, it was all i wanted, still is. J is still pretty much the same person as he was back then but i have changed. I think what we are going through is about us trying to get to grips with that.
I worked from home, by myself until i had children so i think you could say i'm not a mega achieving career woman. Then came another baby and here i am, housewife, mother, wife. I've had some rubbish times (haven't we all) but i sorted myself out with J's help. Now i feel more sorted than ever before. I've got some great, close friends and even a bit of job that i adore and think i'm quite good at.
I have always been a home bird, a perfectionist. The house is always immaculate, that is just the way i'm made. I always had everything perfect for when J got home and i loved doing that. It was my choice to be like that. For a while a change has been coming over me. What once seemed so important just isn't anymore and i have to admit to loving it. I'm different but still me at heart. I hope i can prove that to him.
Things have been a bit tricky lately. I'll try and explain....
J and i married young, it was all i wanted, still is. J is still pretty much the same person as he was back then but i have changed. I think what we are going through is about us trying to get to grips with that.
I worked from home, by myself until i had children so i think you could say i'm not a mega achieving career woman. Then came another baby and here i am, housewife, mother, wife. I've had some rubbish times (haven't we all) but i sorted myself out with J's help. Now i feel more sorted than ever before. I've got some great, close friends and even a bit of job that i adore and think i'm quite good at.
I have always been a home bird, a perfectionist. The house is always immaculate, that is just the way i'm made. I always had everything perfect for when J got home and i loved doing that. It was my choice to be like that. For a while a change has been coming over me. What once seemed so important just isn't anymore and i have to admit to loving it. I'm different but still me at heart. I hope i can prove that to him.
Monday, 10 September 2007
In The Beginning................
The start, the beginning of something.
Unsure, uncertain but definite.
It's a secret hope in a secret place.
A growing chance, a bare possibility.
It's the last thing on your mind at night,
The first thought in the morning.
It wakes you in the early hours
And is a constant companion.
If it was a film, the audience would see it,
If it was a book, the reader would predict it.
Heart burning, lung cramping, chest crushing, head filling.
It's real but unconfirmed.
Unsure, uncertain but definite.
It's a secret hope in a secret place.
A growing chance, a bare possibility.
It's the last thing on your mind at night,
The first thought in the morning.
It wakes you in the early hours
And is a constant companion.
If it was a film, the audience would see it,
If it was a book, the reader would predict it.
Heart burning, lung cramping, chest crushing, head filling.
It's real but unconfirmed.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Truth or Dare?
Do you dare to tell the truth?
Or timidly hide behind a lie?
Cover the frailty,
Muffle the fears,
Do as you've done for years and years.
Lets pretend to be something i'm not.
She'll be picture perfect,
The ideal girl,
She will always be more than good enough.
Temptation calls,
Dare you do it?
Truth seeps and creeps and then it floods.
Baring all, suddenly free,
Letting go for the first time ever.
Ask a question,
I won't lie.
But will you like the answer?
I care so much but made a promise,
when it was dark and silent.
So if it's not right, if i'm not right,
I'll accept what comes my way.
Make up can cover a night of tears,
But i won't need to cry from now.
Lies were my precaution, my shield,
But now the truth protects me.
Or timidly hide behind a lie?
Cover the frailty,
Muffle the fears,
Do as you've done for years and years.
Lets pretend to be something i'm not.
She'll be picture perfect,
The ideal girl,
She will always be more than good enough.
Temptation calls,
Dare you do it?
Truth seeps and creeps and then it floods.
Baring all, suddenly free,
Letting go for the first time ever.
Ask a question,
I won't lie.
But will you like the answer?
I care so much but made a promise,
when it was dark and silent.
So if it's not right, if i'm not right,
I'll accept what comes my way.
Make up can cover a night of tears,
But i won't need to cry from now.
Lies were my precaution, my shield,
But now the truth protects me.
Friday, 7 September 2007
Emotions
There is a lyric that keeps repeating itself in my head.
'Some people hide their emotions, some people say too much. I'm aiming for somewhere central, now isn't it obvious?'
Is that what we should aim for? Somewhere central?
I'm currently struggling with that.
Should you be restrained, illusive, distant even? Or should you say what you feel, sometimes without having the time to arrange those thoughts carefully?
Put like that i think i would indeed prefer to be somewhere in between.
I have always been an open book, can't hide what i feel, i actually can't physically do it. Try as i might (and i do), the truth finds a way out and i am exposed. Vulnerable, unprotected.
In the moments before i open my mouth i feel such excitement and relief. Then after, when i'm reminded that not everyone is as comfortable with my words as i thought, i start to want to crawl under the nearest rock and hide till we can all pretend i never said a word.
Maybe the awkwardness comes from others. Do they feel i will want something in return? I don't, really i don't. I remember the first time i told J i loved him. I had managed to avoid spilling out those 3 little words for days but one night there was nothing i could do. He looked so awkward but what he didn't understand was that i didn't need him to say it back, i genuinely just wanted him to know that my heart was brimming.
Someone once called me a romantic and they are probably right. I said that meant some people took advantage, were more able to hurt you. He told me the important thing to learn and accept is that even if you do get hurt, it isn't you fault.
With that in mind i'm going to live this life like i mean it.
'Some people hide their emotions, some people say too much. I'm aiming for somewhere central, now isn't it obvious?'
Is that what we should aim for? Somewhere central?
I'm currently struggling with that.
Should you be restrained, illusive, distant even? Or should you say what you feel, sometimes without having the time to arrange those thoughts carefully?
Put like that i think i would indeed prefer to be somewhere in between.
I have always been an open book, can't hide what i feel, i actually can't physically do it. Try as i might (and i do), the truth finds a way out and i am exposed. Vulnerable, unprotected.
In the moments before i open my mouth i feel such excitement and relief. Then after, when i'm reminded that not everyone is as comfortable with my words as i thought, i start to want to crawl under the nearest rock and hide till we can all pretend i never said a word.
Maybe the awkwardness comes from others. Do they feel i will want something in return? I don't, really i don't. I remember the first time i told J i loved him. I had managed to avoid spilling out those 3 little words for days but one night there was nothing i could do. He looked so awkward but what he didn't understand was that i didn't need him to say it back, i genuinely just wanted him to know that my heart was brimming.
Someone once called me a romantic and they are probably right. I said that meant some people took advantage, were more able to hurt you. He told me the important thing to learn and accept is that even if you do get hurt, it isn't you fault.
With that in mind i'm going to live this life like i mean it.
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
Promise
A girls night out. Fake tans, too short skirts, too long blond hair. Some friends, some just acquaintances, the bride to be in common. Gathered around the hen with champagne they giggle conspiratorially, only stopping their constant chat to top up their glasses. Excitement and promise seems to bubble from this party and the scent and sound of their frivolity is attracting attention.
One girl is slightly detached from the crowd. She joins in, laughing in all the right places but her eyes keep darting across the room. With thick, dark hair, he had captured her attention as she ordered at the bar. He had been watching her too. He liked how she didn't quite fit in, separated not only by the slight distance she stood away, but something else too. Her clothes perhaps? Or the look in her eye?
The eye contact is progressing to lingering glances. Just a little too long to be comfortable. It is unnerving her, the overwhelming affect this stranger is having. Lip biting, shifting from foot to foot and an indisputable heat creeping up her body.
Briefly her attention is drawn back to the party. When she looks again he is gone.
Frantically she searches the room. From behind her he is watching, her interest now confirmed.
He leans close, so close and breathes on her neck. A well spoken voice in her ear......'Come outside.'
Unable to move, the heat between her legs becomes a fire, engulfing her entire body, unable to breathe.
Oblivious to the questions of her friends, she leaves the bar, hunger and lust causing single mindedness. Find him. The oppressive heat is quickly replaced by cool autumn air. The sweat on her body chills her instantly. Her nipples are hard but not because of the temperature.
He is watching the door as she exits, he likes her face, her body, her height. He is smiling, he can't help himself, as she looks in his direction. She smiles back. Its him. Finally.
Close now, eyes searching each other, hands gripping tightly as they walk to the most private place they can find as quickly as they can. She is looking up at him as he guides her against the wall, eyes locked, so much history already. Deep kisses, searching tongues, arms pulling at each other, desperately trying to get closer.
He reaches down, stroking the back of his hand over her erect nipples, slim waist and smooth thighs, discovering the stockings underneath. She throws her head back, exposing her pale neck. He bites the white flesh as his fingers work their way past the stocking tops and into her knickers.
Slick and wet, so wet. Hot, inviting, gripping his fingers. She comes so quickly to his first ever touch , juices dripping down his hand. He wipes it over her lips, mouth, chin and kisses her messily. Tongues everywhere, their wet faces turning cold in the night air. He lifts that pretty dress up. Now to give her the promise he made weeks before...............
One girl is slightly detached from the crowd. She joins in, laughing in all the right places but her eyes keep darting across the room. With thick, dark hair, he had captured her attention as she ordered at the bar. He had been watching her too. He liked how she didn't quite fit in, separated not only by the slight distance she stood away, but something else too. Her clothes perhaps? Or the look in her eye?
The eye contact is progressing to lingering glances. Just a little too long to be comfortable. It is unnerving her, the overwhelming affect this stranger is having. Lip biting, shifting from foot to foot and an indisputable heat creeping up her body.
Briefly her attention is drawn back to the party. When she looks again he is gone.
Frantically she searches the room. From behind her he is watching, her interest now confirmed.
He leans close, so close and breathes on her neck. A well spoken voice in her ear......'Come outside.'
Unable to move, the heat between her legs becomes a fire, engulfing her entire body, unable to breathe.
Oblivious to the questions of her friends, she leaves the bar, hunger and lust causing single mindedness. Find him. The oppressive heat is quickly replaced by cool autumn air. The sweat on her body chills her instantly. Her nipples are hard but not because of the temperature.
He is watching the door as she exits, he likes her face, her body, her height. He is smiling, he can't help himself, as she looks in his direction. She smiles back. Its him. Finally.
Close now, eyes searching each other, hands gripping tightly as they walk to the most private place they can find as quickly as they can. She is looking up at him as he guides her against the wall, eyes locked, so much history already. Deep kisses, searching tongues, arms pulling at each other, desperately trying to get closer.
He reaches down, stroking the back of his hand over her erect nipples, slim waist and smooth thighs, discovering the stockings underneath. She throws her head back, exposing her pale neck. He bites the white flesh as his fingers work their way past the stocking tops and into her knickers.
Slick and wet, so wet. Hot, inviting, gripping his fingers. She comes so quickly to his first ever touch , juices dripping down his hand. He wipes it over her lips, mouth, chin and kisses her messily. Tongues everywhere, their wet faces turning cold in the night air. He lifts that pretty dress up. Now to give her the promise he made weeks before...............
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
The Past
I saw somebody yesterday.
11 years ago my first proper boyfriend dumped me and i decided that was it. No more falling in love, not me, no way.
I was going to be aloof, detached. Let them come to me.
This was how i ended up with a married man 16 years my senior.
I think it was my apparent disinterest that got him. He saw me as a challenge. Why is that, by the way? As soon as you are not bothered about being attached or not, they want you. Typical.
Anyway.....
I'd been lonely and he gave me lots of attention, the sort that a boy my own age couldn't possibly have given. He took me to nice places, complimented me, everything a university student couldn't.
There was one problem. Try as i might i didn't feel anything between us. He was caring and kind but there was no buzz. No butterflies when he called, no sinking feeling when he didn't. No stirring between my legs when he looked into my eyes.
We didn't last long, he wanted more, to leave his wife and be with me on a permanent basis. There was no way i could have let it continue. I felt terrible. I had tried to be one of those girls who seems to be able to flit from guy to guy without a care but i just couldn't do it.
On the night it ended we sat in his car in an empty car park. He told me all he could offer, told me he loved me. I started to cry. There was this man who always acted like such a big shot opening his heart, exposing his vulnerability. I told him how i was scared, too scared to ever let go again.
I still remember the kindest look in his eyes as he held me until the tears stopped. Then he let me go.
I will never forget him and that night. It was the moment i realised i still believed in love and that even with all the misery and hurt it could bring, i still wanted it. Without it there was no passion or intensity, extremes or exhilaration.
We passed each other in the car yesterday morning. He was grinning and waving madly. It was good to see him again.
11 years ago my first proper boyfriend dumped me and i decided that was it. No more falling in love, not me, no way.
I was going to be aloof, detached. Let them come to me.
This was how i ended up with a married man 16 years my senior.
I think it was my apparent disinterest that got him. He saw me as a challenge. Why is that, by the way? As soon as you are not bothered about being attached or not, they want you. Typical.
Anyway.....
I'd been lonely and he gave me lots of attention, the sort that a boy my own age couldn't possibly have given. He took me to nice places, complimented me, everything a university student couldn't.
There was one problem. Try as i might i didn't feel anything between us. He was caring and kind but there was no buzz. No butterflies when he called, no sinking feeling when he didn't. No stirring between my legs when he looked into my eyes.
We didn't last long, he wanted more, to leave his wife and be with me on a permanent basis. There was no way i could have let it continue. I felt terrible. I had tried to be one of those girls who seems to be able to flit from guy to guy without a care but i just couldn't do it.
On the night it ended we sat in his car in an empty car park. He told me all he could offer, told me he loved me. I started to cry. There was this man who always acted like such a big shot opening his heart, exposing his vulnerability. I told him how i was scared, too scared to ever let go again.
I still remember the kindest look in his eyes as he held me until the tears stopped. Then he let me go.
I will never forget him and that night. It was the moment i realised i still believed in love and that even with all the misery and hurt it could bring, i still wanted it. Without it there was no passion or intensity, extremes or exhilaration.
We passed each other in the car yesterday morning. He was grinning and waving madly. It was good to see him again.
Sunday, 2 September 2007
This Life
Strange all this isn't it?
One day you think you know where you are going, future neatly mapped out years ago.
A fork in the road, not marked on this map.
Which direction?
Can you really choose or did destiny set her dates regardless?
I'd like to think i am the one choosing my fate.
Should i trust my judgement? Terrified of ending up on a road i've been down before.
I'll go with my gut. I know my heart and i know my head.
One day you think you know where you are going, future neatly mapped out years ago.
A fork in the road, not marked on this map.
Which direction?
Can you really choose or did destiny set her dates regardless?
I'd like to think i am the one choosing my fate.
Should i trust my judgement? Terrified of ending up on a road i've been down before.
I'll go with my gut. I know my heart and i know my head.
Saturday, 1 September 2007
Who Has Control?
I walked in our dark room.
'I'm still awake', he said.
I pulled back the duvet and looked at his naked body, shape and muscles illuminated by the orange glow from the alarm clock. I lay curled up at his side and rested my head on the top of his leg. His cock began to harden as if it was reaching for my mouth. A temptation too far. I took him between my lips. He tasted and felt good but i was feeling selfish, possibly even a little neglected.
I rolled away and onto my back, spreading my legs inviting a fuck. I was grinding my arse into the bed, willing him to take control of me. Fuck me, fuck me hard. Fuck me so my whole body is forced up the bed, wrap your arms tightly around my thighs, drive your cock into me. Use your strength to render me helpless.
And he did. He pumped his cock inside me, groaning and panting. We roamed all over our bed. I offered myself to him in different positions, trying, willing him to treat me as his toy, his possession.
On all fours, my back stretched out like a cat with its claws tearing at the sheets. I raised my bottom in the air, daring him to go deeper inside me.
'You're a dirty girl' he said between breaths.
He has no idea of all the filth trapped in my throat that i so want to let go of.
I got what i wanted but there is no doubt in my mind that it is me who initiates and encourages. Maybe that is the way our relationship works, it always has done. I wonder what it would be like if he took control of me. Would i fight it? Would i be able to give up the power? Would he be able to accept the position of authority? I'd like to know the answer.
'I'm still awake', he said.
I pulled back the duvet and looked at his naked body, shape and muscles illuminated by the orange glow from the alarm clock. I lay curled up at his side and rested my head on the top of his leg. His cock began to harden as if it was reaching for my mouth. A temptation too far. I took him between my lips. He tasted and felt good but i was feeling selfish, possibly even a little neglected.
I rolled away and onto my back, spreading my legs inviting a fuck. I was grinding my arse into the bed, willing him to take control of me. Fuck me, fuck me hard. Fuck me so my whole body is forced up the bed, wrap your arms tightly around my thighs, drive your cock into me. Use your strength to render me helpless.
And he did. He pumped his cock inside me, groaning and panting. We roamed all over our bed. I offered myself to him in different positions, trying, willing him to treat me as his toy, his possession.
On all fours, my back stretched out like a cat with its claws tearing at the sheets. I raised my bottom in the air, daring him to go deeper inside me.
'You're a dirty girl' he said between breaths.
He has no idea of all the filth trapped in my throat that i so want to let go of.
I got what i wanted but there is no doubt in my mind that it is me who initiates and encourages. Maybe that is the way our relationship works, it always has done. I wonder what it would be like if he took control of me. Would i fight it? Would i be able to give up the power? Would he be able to accept the position of authority? I'd like to know the answer.
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