“Are you still free tonight?” “I’m sorry, but I can’t now. The baby is sick and my girl needs me to come home to help. You know I wouldn’t cancel for any other reason.” I registered it, I recognized the excuse for the valid one it was, but my heart heard… “You are not my …
He makes me beg for it. The hand at the back of my neck is steady as he pushes in from behind. God, I love how hard he fucks me with so little regard for my pleasure. He makes me work. Work as hard as my restrained body can manage. He stops thrusting and I cry out …
My entry for boobday. I actually took it a few days ago. My attempt to imitate a pose that someone sent to me. I don’t usually like my breasts, but I find them so sexy in this particular photo so it’s worth the share. It’s the one visible nip that gets it! My creative …
I am Complicit in my own demise In my bound hands and my spread thighs I beg for it Bend over for it It trembles in my every cry The answering thrusts render me speechless Remind me that need will drive a woman To drink, to beg, to lie… On her back and recieve with …
It’s my birthday today and my gift to you is a rare sighting in these parts. The black and white spotted boobies. 😉 We’ll call this my boobday post too. Happy birthday to me!
Nothing sexy, but I wanted to show off my knot. I’m trying my hand at rope work so it starts with a basic stuff. Here’s a double coin knot. It certainly looks pretty!
No, you don’t get to kiss my lips. As you hover over me, a look of longing winking in your eyes, so close to giving in to your need to make it more intimate than it can ever be. I close my eyes, turn my head, and savor the talented way you fuck me. I’m …
Something I wrote over 2 years ago that makes me think of relationships gone wrong. I’ve read my share of stories (real and imagined) that have a toxic feel. — I watch the scratches as they appear on your face as if from a distance. How can rage, pain, and love live so comfortably inside …
How was your Saturday night?
A social visit to my friend’s office always draws at least one set of eyes my way. I feel his on me the moment I walk in. Tracing the straps of my tank top, admiring the curve of my ass in my leggings. Maybe I wore it specifically with him in mind because I do …