Read part one here, or just jump in here.
She knew he was making his language crude on purpose. He knew that it drove her passion and her shame when he spoke that way.
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Here’s my bid at a little humor for Sinful Sunday.
“My Eyes Are Up… Oh Nevermind”
Natalie was looking forward to this night out. Des had promised her something special. She dressed according to his specifications, the wine colored stockings and garter belt, no panties of course. She slipped into the latex halter dress, find that it clung to her like a second skin. It highlighted all of her curves from her breasts and hips to the rounded outline of her thick thighs and belly. She tied the halter behind her neck, and felt herself already growing wet just thinking about what he had planned.
Jacqueline was hard at work in her lab, when her assistant, Yvette, came barreling in breaking her concentration so she dropped the beaker she was working with.
“Damn it, Yvette” she snapped, “How many times have I told you not to burst in here?”
Yvette flushed and still panting from her run in gasped out, “The CEO is on his way here.”
Once again, the week has escaped me. It seems my blahs were in good company on Twitter. I saw a lot of “feeling down” posts floating around. On my part, I think I’m missing romance – while I have my nesting partner, when we are both feeling down we cannot buoy the other. My other partners are casual and fun, but not going to develop into deeper connections (probably not going to). All of this leads me to seek out romance.
It’s spring! For me as a pagan, that means pushing myself out of the planning stages of things – moving from thought to action. It means thinking about life renewing and starting over.
So I’m reclaiming a picture that I have a lot of mixed feelings about. I’m making it anew, and moving forward… oh and I think it’s sexy as hell.
Faith woke slowly, a delicious throbbing in her pussy pulling her intro wakefulness. Her Captain’s fingers were gently teasing her, sliding between her her wet folds.
Today, I had a work event, which started me thinking about the masks that I wear.
Obviously, there’s work me, who watches her words and responses very, very carefully. There’s my blood family mask that reins in so many part of me it may as well be a cage.
There’s club me, who doesn’t care about anything, and wife me, who cares about everything, and girlfriend me, who takes a long time to care at all, and friend me, who cares way too much.
There’s submissive me, and the new babygirl mask I’m trying on. There was the mask of dominance I tried on for a few months that didn’t seem to fit. It’s a mask I understand much better now, but I still don’t know if it fits.
There’s also witch me, and she is the least masked me, but only a few ever see her.
“The Masks I Wear”
“Bad girl,” Daddy purred and led me to the bedroom. “Look at you dressed like that,” he said his eyes devouring my short skirt and knee socks. “Lift your skirt,” he ordered.