Shameless begging

Well, actually, I do feel a bit shameful about this begging. Here I’ve been neglecting my site and then when I do post, it’s to ask for votes in a contest. But if you’re the forgiving type and you’d like to see something nice happen to me, then by all means head on over to Puffychicks.com and vote for me in their latest contest (you can vote once per day). At this point I’m pretty far behind and I doubt I’ll win but I’m willing to try. And if I do win – I will come up with a fabulous thank you for my fans. A video maybe? Probably. (As a side note, did you know that the video on the Puffychicks.com site is the only video of me on the internet? Currently, that is.)

We’re in a book!

I’m so excited to announce that a photo Alec took of me as well as a quote from my blog has been included in a book!  The book is called We Feel Fine:  An Almanac of Human Emotion. The mission of the project (which resulted in the making of the book) is quite interesting:

We Feel Fine is an exploration of human emotion on a global scale.

Since August 2005, We Feel Fine has been harvesting human feelings from a large number of weblogs. Every few minutes, the system searches the world’s newly posted blog entries for occurrences of the phrases “I feel” and “I am feeling”. When it finds such a phrase, it records the full sentence, up to the period, and identifies the “feeling” expressed in that sentence (e.g. sad, happy, depressed, etc.). Because blogs are structured in largely standard ways, the age, gender, and geographical location of the author can often be extracted and saved along with the sentence, as can the local weather conditions at the time the sentence was written. All of this information is saved.

The result is a database of several million human feelings, increasing by 15,000 – 20,000 new feelings per day. Using a series of playful interfaces, the feelings can be searched and sorted across a number of demographic slices, offering responses to specific questions like: do Europeans feel sad more often than Americans? Do women feel fat more often than men? Does rainy weather affect how we feel? What are the most representative feelings of female New Yorkers in their 20s? What do people feel right now in Baghdad? What were people feeling on Valentine’s Day? Which are the happiest cities in the world? The saddest? And so on.

I was contacted a number of months ago and asked for permission to have my quote and a picture from the blog included in the book. Of course I said yes! What a fun opportunity. While perusing the preview pages online a few weeks ago, I noticed a familiar picture. It turns out that our sex blogging friends Mina and Sylvanus (from At Longing’s End) are also included in We Feel Fine. I found it amusing that I was able to recognize Mina’s ass (and Sylvanus’ photographic style) in a sea of other pictures.

This is what the page looks like that our picture is on:

Thanks for letting me share my excitement about this book with you! I can’t wait to get my copy in the mail.

Climax

I came home on such a high that night.  I walked in the door with a smile on my face.  He greeted me and I unzipped my pants.  As he slipped his hand down into my panties I said, “I had a really good time.”

“I can tell,” he replied with a wicked gleam in his eye.

In an instant we were naked together in bed.  He didn’t need to spend any time getting me ready, she had already taken care of that.  He climbed on top of me and entered my wet and ready pussy.

“Do you like that she did that to me?” I whispered into his ear.

“Yes,” he replied, with a noticeable shake in his voice.

As he fucked me I breathlessly recounted my evening with Tori.  How she kissed me, grabbed my hair, bit my neck, pinched my nipples.

Then he laid down and I climbed on top of him.  I enjoyed fucking him while conjuring up images of her in my head.  We came at almost the same time.  I collapsed next to him, knowing I was the luckiest woman on the planet.  I got a mind-blowing date with an amazing girl and phenomenal sex with the husband I love all in one night.

I came back upstairs to find a text from her waiting for me.  It said, “Thanks 4 a great night,” and was accompanied by a picture of us kissing that she’d snapped earlier in the evening.  That message was the cherry on top of one of the best nights I’ve ever had.

A shift in my reality

I don’t even know where to begin to tell the story of my date with Tori.  Pieces of the night swirl around in my head so that to write it from beginning to end would feel contrived and strange.

I remember:

How exhilarating it was to be walking hand in hand with her in the dark.
Cupping her face in my hands as I kissed her.
Her hands gripping me, trying to touch as much of me as she could.
The feel of her nails running up and down my arms.
Laughing at the ridiculousness of two grown women being “chased” out of the park by a lady cop.
How some moments the kissing and touching was sweet and gentle and then passionate and intense.
How I melted when she grabbed a fist full of my hair and bit my neck.
Marveling at the softness of her.
Wanting more.

And I can’t stop thinking about her.  And I wonder when I’ll see her again.  And a thousand other thoughts, churning around in my head.

Distracted

She kissed me last night and I can hardly think of anything else.

I’m imagining you

I wonder what your lips would feel like, pressed against mine.  Would you be sweet and gentle or would the kiss awaken that rougher, more brazen side of you?  Perhaps you would start to kiss me slowly, hesitantly, until you knew I wouldn’t run away.  Then you’d hold back no longer.  I imagine you grabbing a fist full of my hair as our tongues intertwine.  You know you’ve chosen the right path when you hear the soft moans escaping from my throat.  You know what a girl likes.

The fantasy that often gets replayed in my head is of me, topless, kissing another topless girl.  Will you indulge me, I wonder?  I see my hands tracing the lines of your body – along your spine, over your hips, at your lower back.  So soft but also so strong.  I’m greedy and cannot keep myself from touching your breasts.  As we kiss I roll your nipples between my fingers.  I pay close attention, noting which amount of pressure elicits the most moans of approval.  I might be greedy but I try not to be selfish.

Speaking of those nipples…  I want to circle my tongue around them.  Suck on them.  Gently bite them, if you’ll let me, as I run my hand between your legs (I’m anxious to see if you’re as wet as I am.  In due time…).  Now I understand why men are so fascinated with breasts.  They’re irresistible and I cannot keep my hands off yours.  I want you to touch me but, at this point, I’m so lost in exploring and enjoying you that I’ve all but forgotten that perhaps you want in on the action.

What would it be like to snake my hand down your leg, aching to get in your pants?  I’m tingling just thinking about it.  Would I know what to do when my fingers finally made their way to your pussy?  Or would I be so overwhelmed with the situation that I’d stumble around, like someone learning to play an instrument?  I’m closing my eyes and picturing sliding my finger slowly inside you.  You are as wet as I surely am.  Your back arches towards me and I let my thumb find its way to your clit.  I want to make you come.  Then your fingers find me.  I know you could make me come.

Then I see us lost in crazed kisses, hungrily devouring each other, until we’re both shaking from the orgasms that were a given the moment you walked in my door.  After recovering from the bliss, I’d likely laugh and cover my eyes, suddenly shy after this intense moment.  I think you’d do something charming, perhaps giving me another lingering kiss to settle my nerves, because you’re just that perfect.  A delightful mixture of sexy and sweet, smart and sassy.

That’s where this little fantasy of you fades, as I drag myself back to reality.  Bits and pieces of it are sure to replay themselves in my head throughout the day, as I go about my normal business.  You love that, don’t you?  That underneath my good-girl exterior I can be the bad girl that dreams about kissing you.  Well, I do think about that, when I’m imagining you.

Clips and clamps

Armed with my purple clothespin clips from Penny at Birds Are Smart, my nipple clamps, and cute new panties, I headed off last night for a photo shoot with Alec.  I enjoy having him take my picture because I get to spend time with him and he always makes me look good.  He goes into Photographer Mode – zipping around fixing lights, putting up backdrops, and adjusting my position.  It’s quite adorable.  But enough chit-chat, let’s get to the pictures.

The clothespins are quite pinchy and the pressure on my nipples was a little unpleasant.  I didn’t leave them on for very long.  I think I’ll have to work up to pain like that. 

Then I got the clever idea of clipping the clothespins somewhere else.  Oh, yes I did!  Much less painful and I actually started to get a bit turned on.  I think we’ll need to play with the clothespins again some night. 

Since we didn’t have any pictures of me wearing the nipple clamps that we’ve owned for years, I thought tonight would be a good time to bring them out for photos.  I adore Alec’s new background that he used for these pictures. 

So, there I am in all of my minimally-Photoshopped glory, clamping and clipping myself.  Thanks again to Penny for giving us a fun reason to take pictures.  I enjoyed myself and as often happens, picture night ended with a bang.  *wink*