Pleasure Pool

Sweat covered her body like diamonds of decoration. She peeled away, slowly despite the heat, layers of clothes, allowing herself to feel the sliding of material against her feverish skin, the slight drying effect as the fabric moved, and newly exposed skin prickling at the sensation of fan kissing it with air. She undid her bra and tossed it to the side, the last of her layers, and the burdening of breasts constrained, the heavy weight falling slightly, the nipples puckering with the air circulating around them.

The dry desert sky mirrored the blue of the inviting pool, not even a cloud in the sky to give way which was which; it was so dry the skin cried out for moisture that the pool offered. She slipped in a foot, ripples floating outward, blurring both blues. Another foot, and then down a step where the water lapped gently against her calves. As she proceeded deep enough where the water almost reached her sex, the coolness became a sharp distinction against the warmth of her inner thighs, and she hesitated. Breathing, she took another step, her heated sex was licked with wet cold. Down, over the hips and waist, she delayed again, placed her hands over her breasts, unable for a second to resist the urge to play with the tight buds, and submerged the rest of her. The soft but sweltering underneath of the breasts shocked by a cold they rarely feel, she gave a gasp and then smiled as finally she was cooled down.

The navy water served as a barrier against the red ball of fire beaming endlessly down, and she was happily cocooned. Bare skin relished the divergence, open skies with not even the whisper of wings overhead, she felt the only one in the unbroken desert.  She swam a few laps, enjoying the sensation of the water skimming across her flesh, and then turned over and floated. Her mount almost bobbing up, teasing with just the slightest peek, the peaks of her breasts fully exposed to the warm sky.

The nipples were still hardened points, and she put her feet down, fingers now skimming and tugging at them. Concealed in the complete open, she began exploring her body with pleasure.  She touched her still warm cheeks with cold hands, water cascading down her neck before reuniting with the pool’s barrier. She lifted up the now heavy weight of her hair, a slight warm breeze caressing the back of her neck. Her breasts were unusually weightless in the water, slightly more than a handful, and as she pinched the nipples, she felt the sensation traveling down and pooling at her sex. Fingertips slowly traced the curve of waist to hip, and she moved with deliberation to the inside of her thighs, still warmer than most of her skin. Nails slowly slid up and down and back again on the inside, almost to her wanton lips.

She traced the inside of her lips with soft fingers, not parting them, teasing herself with the anticipation. Her clit begging for an accidental touch, hardening slightly, more exposed. She circled it softly, barely flicking the tip with a finger, feeling an immediate tightening in her core with the touch. Two fingers began massaging the sensitive bud, one on the side, sliding up and down leisurely, occasionally the thumb pressing at the top between them, giving a soft pinch. The sensation caused immediately sensitization, an electrical current of pleasure making its way down her thighs, causing right below her toes to throb, wanting to curl into the pressure there. Her fingers drifted further into her lips. She parted them, and moved against the overwhelming heat in the cold pool. Resistance at first due to the water not being as slippery as her own juices, she pressed one finger into her depth, teasing in and out a few times, before slipping in another finger. She curled her fingertips slightly, her palm cupping her clit, and applied more pressure and moved slightly in and out, up and down her wall. Waves rippled across the surface, echoing her movement with a slight noise, the water between her clit and palm swished in the most delightful way. Moving with more purpose, feeling a tightening around her fingers, and a tensing in her core, she moved more frantically against and in herself, the water continuing to assist adding to the heightened sensations, her fingers strumming along a delicious spot.

Wave after wave of pleasure continued to build until she became lost to her surrounding, letting out a little cry, the climax crashed into her and she leaned against the side of pool for balance. The water lapped in the same rhythm as her movement had, and she smiled and slowly extricated her fingers, enjoying the cool contrast around them where her fervor had been.

Now, she was relaxed, letting her thoughts drift like her body, floating weightlessly in the pool. 

Summer Motivation

M here.

Sorry postings have been slimmer, though I'll explain an amazing time to be had. A, being the playful, little single she is, isn't the most consistent at blogging, though brilliant about articulating her adventures.

As for me, summer is a time of travel, as the kids have off. It is also a time where my husband and I are most assuredly separated, whether by moving, deployments, or I leave him to visit family, etc..It just seems to work that way.

So I don't have a lot of sexy inspiration during the summer, being busy and focused on the kids and their agendas more. Doesn't leave a lot of time for sex (but my masturbation time increases). Kids just have a way of sucking all the sexiness out of life.

On the bright side of all this, while playing a game together with a group of friends, my husband and I bet that I couldn't hold out 11 minutes and 18 seconds until I orgasmed (it would have been the third time). I really didn't think I would win it, but I did! Our friends were kind enough to listen to me orgasm on Skype, and helped keep track of time. My prize: an hour of being tied up.

The next day over the phone he went into delicious detail about painting a picture of what to expect: wrists tied with an immediate orgasm by fingers to keep me extra sensitive, then by oral sex, and again possibly by vibrator. Then ankles tied with knife, wax, cold glass, ice cubes, vibrator...um, I may be forgetting a few other implements. Edging, he promised/threatened five times, before allowing me to be pleased by the sixth. I believe my ankles would also be tied by my wrists by this point. Next tied position, laying on my stomach. Gosh, I believe a spreader and a plug and paddle by this point...anyhow, I have to patiently wait at least another month to have this become a reality, and I am not a patient person.

And while I was listening to the deep, sensual pitch of his voice, almost hypnotic, I couldn't help brushing my fingertips over my puckered nipples, around the soft globe of my breasts, down the curves of my waist and hips, and up my inner thighs. His words went into such great detail on where he would move, what he would do, how he would smile even (though I wouldn't be able to see through the blindfold), that I tightened with expectation. My fingertips grazed my clit, and stayed there for a few minutes, teasing my body in tone with his words, before sliding into my slick folds. I was slowly rubbing, tingling pleasantly with the soft strokes in and out, but when he began talking about edging and finally allowing me to cum, my fingers tensed up and curled and I came.

Hmm, this may be why the details of being flipped over are hazier than the rest. I heard every word, extended my pleasure to the rhythm of his story, but yet...memory with pleasure just isn't strong.

Anyhow, inspiration promises to come in spades. We are going to experiment and play to a teasing level that we haven't yet, and I'm curious how my sensitive body will handle it all.

And while I have to patiently wait for this, hopefully smaller inspirations will be granted. Until then, apologies for the sparse posts. A and I will continue on in the tempo we are motivated to.

-M

Summer Frolick

We had met

in the middle of summer

amid a heat that had nothing

to do with the weather

and everything to do with

attraction.

As the summer stretched out

the rain dried out

and the sun shed light.

Everything was so bright,

so vivid, the joy of freedom

momentous.

Circling each other like

nectar draws hummingbirds,

the path almost undetectable,

frolicking carelessly;

We were iridescent*,

absorbing our color from each other.

*Hummingbirds are iridescent, reflecting colors around them like a bubble floating in air.

Clear Vision

         She found herself standing in a dark room alone, silence except for the booming thunder, blind except for the brief flashes of lightning from a large window. She fumbled for the tornado radio on a table, next to the front door, hitting her knee in her effort and dropping something before feeling the radio, and turned it on. The radio crackled out a thunderstorm warning for the following counties, hers being one of them.

            She breathed a sigh of relief. Just recently, a neighboring county had been hit by a tornado, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction. She was glad that it wasn’t a tornado warning. And she cursed that she became so consumed in her work that it was now dark, and for all she knew, she was alone in the building.

            She wondered where a flashlight could be located, and reached into her purse, removing her phone. Turning it on, she used the feeble light to move in between the cubicles towards a large window, stumbling slightly from time to time. Through the window, the rain slashed and splattered down, and the lightning exposed the tips of the trees swaying violently, the moon completely hidden above the storm.

            Not just the darkness confused her, but she still felt as though she were in that book that she was translating. The book she simply struggled to render appropriately, as the words mesmerized her with their dark erotic fantasies. She had always felt superior translating, this book left her humble and hoping she eloquently did it justice; it provoked a physical reaction that still left her wanting.  

            Halfway to the large window, a flashlight’s beam shone directly in her eyes, blinding her. She stopped abruptly, squinting. A man’s voice stated with some surprise, “Ah, Jen, I had thought you had left with everyone else.” His accent thick, making him distinguishable even blind, Jen was glad she wasn’t alone in this frightening storm. He lowered the flashlight, but she still couldn’t see anything. Too bad, she thought, he was gorgeous to look at. Recently joining her department, she and other women would cast stolen glances at him when he was near.

            “I lost track of time, I guess.” She shrugged. Spots of lights still flashed before her eyes, but she could see his form silhouetted in front of the window. She noticed that the beam of light was pointed downwards, at a spot between them in the carpet. The light moved forward, towards her, and she looked up to see him closing the distance between them. She smelled his cologne when he was close enough to grasp her upper arm, and she felt like leaning into his smell, becoming enveloped in his scent that it became her own.

            “Are you alright?” the lightning exposed his smile, he was so close that his words were felt on her forehead. She shook her head a little, blaming her current thoughts and predicament on the book she was working on. Of course, there could be worse things than being stuck in a storm with a hot man. He mistook her shake, and wrapped his arms around her, and she felt his hard chest through his suit. “It’s okay, the storm will pass over us soon,” he murmured, rubbing her upper back. She found herself putting her arms around him, holding him tightly. His heat seemed to cocoon her, and she felt so hot all the sudden she was afraid of perspiring. At least she could blame it on the storm, and his assumption that she was terrified.

            “I’m okay,” her voice came out muffled from his suit jacket; she felt oddly calm at the soothing strokes of his hand on her back, the other arm still holding her tightly to him. The hand moved a little lower, to her lower back, and the circles would sometimes reach the top of her ass. She was sure that wasn’t intentional, and decided to not protest it.

            Still holding her but allowing more room between them, he looked down at her face. “So lovely, Jen, even in shadows and darkness.” She was surprised at the words, but more surprised when his face could be vaguely seen lowering, lips came down to meet hers, his hand now firmly on her ass, pushing her towards him again. She found herself kissing him back, his tongue melding with her own, the taste of him unique. “So hot,” he leaned back and murmured, and she briefly felt his hardness against her through the layers of clothes. The hand caressing her butt gripped tighter, the arm supporting her shoulders was suddenly used to turn her around so fast that she was shocked, letting out a little cry, tripping over her own feet and grabbing in the dark a nearby desk. The arm snaked over her shoulder, pulling her up and against him, the other hand lifted up her heavy mass of hair, and she heard him whisper something in his native language, so soft she wasn’t sure what it was, as his mouth came down upon her neck.  She felt goose bumps along her skin, and her body tremored slightly.

She hazily wondered what she was doing, alone in a storm with a near stranger that apparently didn’t ask for permission to approach her sexually. She debated briefly if she would tell him to stop, or do something, but his other hand slowly started unbuttoning her blouse, the palm grazing the newly exposed skin as he unhurriedly went down the row. His mouth moved to the side, the hand still gently lifting the hair up to give him full access. She moaned, and decided that she would see where this would take her. She could always tell him to stop later.

Fingers deftly made their way into her bra, fingertips caressing nipple tip to a hardened point before tugging slightly. He lips and tongue so warm sliding along her jawline, she turned her head to be able to kiss him. He dropped her hair as his mouth seared against hers, his tongue probing and asking of her own passion. Suddenly, he pinched her nipple hard at the same time as he trapped all her hair in his grasp and pulled her head back, away from the kiss. “I wonder if you are ready, lovely,” he questioned to her ear, still holding her head back as the fingers moved from nipple down, pulling up her skirt so quickly and moving aside her panties that she didn’t even think to protest.

She almost felt panicked at his aggression, unused to it, unsure of him, but a finger stroked against her clit, sliding easily along her slickened lips to penetrate her sex. She gasped, and he inserted two fingers. His mouth again moved to the side of her neck, nibbling and sucking, as his fingers moved quickly in and out of her. “So ready for me,” he said.

Yes, she thought, you and the book of words have me mesmerized in fantasy. She felt herself soaking his fingers, tightening around them, and began panting. He withdrew them right before she could clench around them in orgasm. He grabbed her hip, the hand in her hair now between her shoulder blades pushing, bending her. Her hands out, they felt the impact of the steady desk, and she laughed, curious if he even cared if she had smashed into it face first. Her skirt was hiked up above her hips, her underwear yanked down, and his mouth moved upon her clit. He pushed her legs further apart, and in her frustration to have him down there, she untangled her high heel from one side of the undergarment, leaving it like an anklet around the other. The tongue darted against her nub, once, twice; sighing, she felt him sucking on it.  She shifted slightly, bending more fully over the desk, pushing papers out of her way. The thundered boomed, the lightning flashed, and she prayed the electricity stayed off and not waken her to reality.

His mouth moved back, his tongue fucked her, his lips pulling at her lips. She moaned and pushed against his mouth, trying to increase the pressure, before he moved, the fingers seeking where his mouth had been, his mouth moving up to licking her anus. The fingers sunk in deeply, curling, fucking her to an orgasm that she screamed more voraciously than the violent storm outside.

“Ready for me?” he panted, moving up to stand behind.

It took her a hazy moment to realize he had actually asked her a question. She heard his clothing shifting. “Oh yes,” she stammered, backing up slightly, bumping into his shadowy form. He chuckled, grabbed her hip with one hand, guided himself to her with the other, before both hands were on the sides of her hips, and he was moving them back and forth, pulling her upon him as he pushed, and roughly taking her to another orgasm, slowly the tempo slightly. She became briefly aware of the rain still pounding down to the earth, very aware of him still filling her deeply, and then thrusting fast again, competing with the speed of the rain, until they both shuddered and groaned.

He stepped back, smoothed down her skirt. He began reassembling his clothes before she even moved to stand up again, feeling wobbly, using the desk for support. She decided to lean against it, and turned, still just seeing him vaguely. She struggled to pull up her panties in the same amount of time that he dressed.

A dream lover, she mused. “My tempest,” he leaned down and kissed her forehead, his accent thicker from their passion. The thundered rolled, but it seemed so far away to her, a relaxing soothing background sound. “You were lovely,” he leaned down and picked up the flashlight, shining it again at the floor.

“What now?” she breathlessly asked. He put an arm around her shoulder, and steered her towards the front door.  

“Shall we get you to your car?” He handed her the purse she had dropped, grabbed an umbrella in the doorway, and continued to move her into the rain. As they stepped outside, the umbrella snapped open, lightning flashed, and the lights behind them were suddenly on again. They laughed as they walked away; she was grateful it was still dark outside. She wanted him to continue being a mysterious dream lover. Tomorrow back at work would be soon enough for her to cast furtive glances of longing or askance at him, translating his mood more than her current book project, amid the papers, chatter, clicking of keyboards, and clear vision.

TMI Travel

This week, TMI Tuesday is looking at sex on vacation.
I just got back from a lovely trip, and have quite a few more planned for the summer, so this is pretty perfect timing.

1. Do you have more sex or less when on vacation?
More, as long as the kids aren't there. Then less if they are. This last trip I pushed him for five sessions in the evening because, well, I could. We wouldn't do much sight seeing if I had it my way when we travel childless.

2. Do you plan a vacation so that you will have an opportunity to have
sex?
No, we have opportunity. I don't mind planning long car drives because of road head. I pleased him twice whenever the drive became a little boring this weekend. Sadly, he wouldn't agree to parking, but I did masturbate for him so he could watch for stolen seconds while driving.

3. Have you ever planned a vacation in order to meet someone for sex?
Yes, this used to be quite frequent.

4. Have you ever gone on a singles’ cruise or some other
hookup-facilitating vacation?
I actually was on a cruise ship with 90% of the people being swingers. Great people to party with, but I wasn't technically with them, so I've never planned a vacation with that intent.

5. Have you had sex on a means of transportation other than a car: bus, train,
airplane, cruise ship?
Cruise ship. I don't think I'd want to anywhere else, but who knows

6. Have you had outdoor sex on camping, hiking, skiing, boating
vacation?
Yes, camping. And he was so paranoid about me making any noise, or us being seen. Not hiking, but I hike all the time, so that's a shame - more his decision than mine.

Bonus: Do you pack sex toys, lubes (3.4 oz bottles or less), etc when you fly? Do you think about TSA finding them? Has TSA ever found them and questioned you about your sexual aids or displayed them? Tell us about it.
No, I am worried about this. When we moved across country recently, I shipped my favorite vibrating toy over before flying so that I would have it, but not worry about TSA finding it.

Three Word Meme

I found this three word meme from Sir Q and Me
The idea is to use exactly three words to answer each of the questions, so here goes.

1. Where is your cell phone?  Usually near me.
2. Boyfriend/girlfriend?  I wish girlfriend
3. Hair?  Always pulled back
4. Your mother?  Disney, PTSD, Christmas
5. Your father?  30 second call
6. Your favorite item(s)?  Ring, lelo, car
7. Your dream last night?  Twitter, orgasms, hashtag
8. Your favorite drink? Water or tea
9. Your dream guy/girl? Already found him
10. The room you are in? Main middle floor
11. Your fear?  Unhappy lonely family-less
12. What do you want to be in 10 years?  Happy, whole, strong
13. Who did you hang out with last night?  S, C, Me
14. What are you not?  Patient, unmotivated, frigid
15. What's outside your window?  so many trees
16. One of your wish list items?  to be dominated
17. What time is it?  dinner time, yum
18. The last thing you did?  erase person's answers
19. What are you wearing? bra, pants, shirt
20. Your favorite book? Clan Cave Bear
21. The last thing you ate? Yogurt, banana, grapes
22. Your life?  Interesting, moving, blessed
23. Your mood? Consistently all over
24. Your car?  Amazingly trustworthy awesomeness
25. What are you doing at this moment? Typing these words
26. Your summer? Hot, relaxed, traveling
27. Travel plans? Always, impulsive, needed
28. What is on your TV screen?  forever video games
29. Last time you cried?  I can't remember
30. School?  apparently like it

Spring Break

A writing prompt "Spring Break" from Prowling with Kat, made me think about spring break sex in general, which always tends to be hotter since the kids normally are gone at least a night or two, recently it's been for the entire week. It's impossible, given this recent trend, to reflect on one night of such exquisite passion, when there are normally so many experiences to choose from. Even if they aren't sex, they are sex (or sexy) related. So....

Snippets of thoughts run rampant when I reminisce about this spring break...

Dropping the kids off at the airport, suddenly I am no longer defined in the role of "mom";
I shed even a semblance of responsible adult, and ponder my next move.

Within minutes of the plane leaving, I get a text from husband: "sex store today....?"
I text back, "sounds good lover. Can we use the knife today too?"
"Yes"
Well, there's my first day spoken for once he gets off of work...

Hot Wax
We didn't end up using the knife that first day. At the sex store, we picked up some candles. This was on our "curious" sex bucket list. So we figured: now would be the perfect time to try it out. First off, we played with the candles just goofing off, without putting the hot wax to any skin. It was more about technique - how does it splatter? Where does it drip? How to get the smaller drips versus the larger amounts? Then we had sex for a long time, trying some things we hadn't in awhile. After the glow of sex was gone (which we realized we should've used candles while we were still sensitive), I decided to put a towel under my husband and decide to try the wax. He wanted it on his thigh first, from a far distance. He is a good sport: I was interested in wax play, but I wanted him to be the experiment first. He didn't like it in the inner thigh, but the outer thigh he was ambivalent about it. Then I persuaded him to move up the chest, where I played around with my aim, and watched him arch and writhe about deliciously as the wax covered various parts of his wide chest, and dribbled upon his nipples. He wasn't sure how he felt about it when the experience was done.

Next, it was my turn, and he wanted to start on thigh as well. I rolled over to the side slightly - I figured less chance to get the inner thigh, and he dribbled wax on me. It felt okay, but I could see the appeal if I were already sexually heightened. A bit fell and splattered onto the opposite thigh, hitting the inner most part right before getting to my sex, and that felt a little too overwhelmingly hot. It stung in the spot for quite awhile. He moved up a little and started dripping the wax on my hip and ass, and my ass also didn't appreciate the hot sensation quite the same. "I can see you're going to like this," was his final statement about the whole thing, and truly I am the one getting more into other sensation plays, so he may be right.

Final verdict: we promised to give it a go again, especially immediately following some sex or foreplay. One thing to cross off of our sex bucket list (woohoo for trying new things!).

Edging
My husband really doesn't deny anything I want. This includes orgasms, so when I suggested edging, he was surprised that I would try it. And he was also concerned about his own self control.

Well, we tried it and edging was frustrating, and funny, and ah-mazing. He even chuckled a few times at my noises of frustrations, my body arching and trying to push us there. He whispered a few times, pondering: "I wonder if I can do this again?" and did. And the final result was blissful, relieving, and so hard. He described me as tightening up for so long with no relaxing, almost "locking down" on his shaft to prevent him from denying us any longer.

Downside: I am quite capable of multiple orgasms, but I take my lover on this type of journey where he has no choice but to join me, then I am not having multiple orgasms from sex. Of course, there are other ways around that if I truly desire them, and truly one orgasm is plenty.

Sisters
I also planned a visit with my sister, who is on a picture high, and wanted me to bring lingerie to her house to snap away at me. She's getting very good at using her phone to take pictures (as you can clearly observe if you follow us on twitter). She's also a master at hair and makeup.

The result is the photos of me are stunning. I am not used to photos of me being taken, little lone liking them, but the results were stunning. Even my husband liked them (and that speaks volumes).

I am a tomboy at heart, and one that doesn't really focus on being sexy too much (I'd like to think I just naturally am, but who wouldn't?). A told me to wear something sexy, so I put on some boy shorts and tiny tank top - did I mention that they were superhero? Okay, so maybe lingerie isn't even my strong suit, but she rolled her eyes when she saw what I chosen first and just snapped away. Honestly, some of the first ones are adorably cute.

I also had a the brand new issue of having a bruised butt cheek (woohoo!) from my husband (who had read a blog I had posted about spanking, and then followed through on my fantasy). My sister had to apply cover up all over both my ass cheeks so that it blended, an experience we both thought we'd never say outloud: somewhat like, "I write sex blogs with my sister and am constantly getting naked photos of her text to me".

When my sister said give me a sexy look, she ended up nearly in tears laughing at my pitiful and clearly not sexy efforts. I can't do serious, or focused either. Pouty? ...uh uh...not on command, and it certainly wasn't sexy. And yet, somehow she masterfully posed me and snapped away at so many different moments that I now have a hot little collection for my husband to view upon...and possibly some for our twitter or blog (I've already posted one of the about M section of our blog, and one on twitter).

Whew, being sexy is hard....probably more for my sister to make me sexy than for my failing efforts. Thanks A!

Orgasm Challenge
Through twitter, this competition Orgasm Count is taking place. Knowing I can hit multiple orgasms, she exempted multiple orgasms in the competition. John D Stories is all about keeping this fair, and he's awesome in general. He created the site, and through conversations, hilariously created the rules (seriously, check them out, and feel free to join as well!).

I guess to be fair, though I'm a little saddened, multiple shouldn't count. Sunday alone I hit between 20-25 orgasms in the day, but to be fair there were unusual extenuating circumstances at work:
1) No kids, yep that rarely happens;
2) Husband was actually home ALL DAY (rare again);
3) We didn't go anywhere or have anything we had to do; and,
4) I was sad I didn't have my kids, so my husband was willing to have sex more often than normal to cheer me up. Way to take one for my happiness, babe.

Friends and Tattoo
The rest of the trip, when I wasn't with my sister or trying new things and having tons of sex with my husband, I was just visiting with friends. With my vanilla friends, I showed them a BDSM check list because I was discussing crossing through my own list. We went through their desires - which was great entertainment in itself.

And my husband got a tattoo, actually the first session of a cover up that literally covers up the majority of his back from the tip of his shoulders to the top of his ass. They also had to go around the scar tissue the original tattoo gave him (lesson to be learned: don't get a tattoo in a foreign country spur of the moment that covers an extremely large part of your body). Sometimes I am tempted to share photos of us - the size difference between the two of us is stunningly drastic, but this tattoo marks and identifies him too greatly.

TMI Tuesday

1. I’m the type of person that likes to be adventurous, dare I say, even entertained, in bed.

2. If the sexiest person I know propositioned me for sex, I would say yes and try not to stare the whole time .

3. The worst part about summer when I am naked is as hot as we get together, we are as cooled down as it's going to get .

4. I regret my first year pushing you away and trying to get you to sleep around .

5. The last sexual/kinky thing I expected to like was the imprint of your hand on my ass .

6. Recently, I exhausted someone.

Bonus: You have been kidnapped by lesbians and dragged into a lesbian orgy, what are you going to do?

Hope it goes as well as I expected, and remember all the wonderful details to tell you about later.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Set Me Aflame

Winter is here, soft snowflakes fall like sugar and dust our shoulders, melt on hair. Returned from our cold journey into our house, we head straight for bed.

Warmth, that is all we seek. You strip naked first, and warm the cool bed for a moment before I brave the air touching my goose-bumped skin for the briefest of moments before sliding next to you. I rest my head on your shoulder, your arm going around me and pulling me in tight. The weight of the blankets, and your body heat, cocoon me in coziness and warmth.

Minutes pass, your fingers lovingly stroke my hair away from my face, and I become lulled into peace by the feel of those fingers and the steady rhythm of your heart beat. Calm, still moments pass before your hand slides to the base of my hairline and suddenly grips and pulls my hair.

 

With head tilted back, my eyes meet your demanding ones, and I feel a pull that has nothing to do with my hair. It is my own heart beat I hear now and the silent promise you are about to set me aflame.