A continuation of what I read on Kayla’s site. She wrote it for Wicked Wednesday and it stuck in my mind like a barb, demanding I carry it on. Maybe not to completion, but onward nonetheless… It was like a spell woven over the room. He’s the wizard and I’m the unsuspecting observer caught up …
(Unedited ramblings alert!) Okay, I feel like I need to say a bit more on the topic. Or maybe I’ve said too much already? Anyway, I think most of my distaste for this stems from the fact that no real sustaining recognition is given with these “Top (insert whatever) Blogger” posts. I’ve been on at …
This week’s prompt. Gawd, my girly bits can’t handle it! The gif refuses to play (a damn shame) so go check it out then come back and read. I’m bad. The names I call myself as I creep out of my house, around the back, across the yard to that spot just beneath his window …
I, Cara Thereon, will not be voting in any “Top (insert whatever) Blogger” this year. It seems counterintuitive to the aim of reaching out and forming community, but I find it depresses the hell out of me to vote in the contests. There’s a bit of popularity involved. You have to be popular to be …
Does our tenuous connection hold you so tight? The “I” of it tries to tie me when this “miss” was made to believe that the “you” just wanted a fluid exchange So our loose strand that was no more than a hairbreadth from breaking apart Suddenly feels like a solid tightrope This “I” can still …
Back to play? I’ll make it worth your while then. It was God-awful hot! A haze seemed to paint the air both inside and out. She couldn’t take off enough clothes or lay still enough to cool off. She’d stripped down to her skin and sprawled out on her bed with a glass of …
I finally met a fellow blogger I’ve known for something like ten years. LaNeshe (click on the link and check out her blog!) is one of two people I’ve followed in the blogging world forever that I’ve been dying to meet. One I managed to meet this past winter (II) and then yesterday my travels …
The sky looked bruised. An ominous sign that signaled a violent storm in the makings, with rains that promised more than a late summer’s sprinkle. It matched her mood perfectly. Bruised and roiling with a violence she was afraid she could no longer suppress. She needed to leave, him and this place. Before she imploded. …
He’ll only take what’s served Plated up Willingly conferred He’ll eat with his fingers Devoted to culinary completion Submission made sweeter When the honey is offered On a silver platter With bread to soak up the juice And wine to compliment the taste
Something to wake up to. It’s that time again. That (pants around your knees, hand between your thighs, head tossed back in pleasure) Time. And would you moan for me on this Monday? Here’s something familiar to help you get there… An arm slid around her waist just as she lifted the pan to turn the …