Late, but still loved!

Darn, I can't believe this!  I missed Love Our Lurkers Day!  I'm so bummed.  So... I know this is belated, but thank you to all of you who come and read.  I love the sense of freedom I get from having a place like this to come and share my thoughts, feelings, and innermost wants and needs.  There isn't much in my actual world that can compare to that; sometimes it feels like all we do is walk around with different masks on all day long! 

To those that have commented: thank you for the feedback and for stopping to take time out of your day to say that you care or that something I have said affected you somehow.  And to those who come and read and never say a word: thanks for coming!  Thanks for taking time to want to know what I have to say.  I can only pray that my words are helping to reinforce the sense of community we've all tried so hard to foster, and that perhaps I've helped inform someone out there of... something.  I know that writing this blog does so much for me; I hope that it has done something to touch some of you as well.

To all of my readers: I like to imagine that if we met, we'd be friends.

A Bedtime Story

I just woke up, restless as hell.  So maybe if I tell you guys a good story, I'll be able to go back to sleep!

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They'd gone to bed as usual that night: her reading, him playing around with some game on his phone.  He finished the game, turned over and tried to get comfortable.  She was feeling a little tired, so she reached over, turned out her light, and turned to snuggle with her husband, only to be met with his broad back.

Hmmm...  she thought.  She craved a connection with this man, one that had been missing the past few days.

She curled her body around his, put her face next to his ear, whispered I love you.  That got a good response.  All right then, time for her next move.  One hand slowly, seductively, began its way down his side, rubbing him softy, stroking him from hip to thigh, and back up.  Maybe I can help you get a little more comfortable... ever so lightly in his ear.

She heard him smile in the dark.  "Maybe," he allowed.

Pushing the black comforter back, she pulled her husband over so that he was lying on his back, then climbed between his knees.  He was more than happy to open them enough to accomodate her as she knelt before him. Her hands groped for him in the dark... found his smooth belly, rubbed up to play with the hair on his chest, slid down to cradle his strong hips... moved lower, searching, and immediately found his hard, waiting cock.  She giggled a little before bending to lick just the tip, automatically glancing towards his face to gauge his reaction.  Unfortunately, all was black, and he chose to remain silent, unwilling to let her know what he was thinking.

She bent to her task eagerly.  His cock smelled like male; like him.  She ran her tongue along the underside, followed that with her finger; let her saliva fall on the head and used thumb and forefinger to spread it along the sensitive under-edges.  She couldn't see his face, but she knew she was doing well, judging by how hard he was getting.

After sufficiently handling it, she got right down to business, sucking it all the way down her throat.  God, it tasted just like it smelled: manly.  She ran her tongue down the shaft while it was still inside her mouth, then sucked him down just a little further, making herself quiver and gag, just like he liked.  Then she began fucking her own mouth with his cock.  She put her hands under his ass, to keep them out of the way, and impaled herself on his length, sucking it into her throat, then slowly releasing it through pursed lips, her tongue dancing over it for a moment before drawing it back into her again.

She felt him start to tense, knew that she could make him come this way alone, and was perfectly happy with that, but he'd been wanting more lately.

With a last kiss to his penis, she rose, turned, and thrust her very wet pussy onto his hard cock.  His grunt of approval told her she'd done the right thing.  She leaned forward just a bit, right to that angle that rubbed him perfectly inside of her (and gave him a great view of her ass, since he could see way better in the dark than she) and began to fuck him.  Immediately his hands came to encircle her waist, helping her with her rhythm.

It felt so good having him inside of her that she slipped her fingers underneath herself, rubbing her slick, wet clit as she pounded down on top of him.  She moaned, moving her ass back towards his belly in small circles, feeling his cock swell and pulse inside of her.

His hands moved then.  His fingers dipped between her legs, wetted themselves in her copious juices, and two of them pushed deep into her ass, now filling both her holes completely with him.  It sent her over the edge.  She moaned and pushed against him, both hands now on the bed to stablize herself as she came hard on top of him just a moment before he exploded inside of her...

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So you'd think I'd be sleeping better tonight, right? ;)

Can you smell the love?

I'm going to tell you a secret.

I don't shower every day.

*GASP*

Okay, catch your breath and I'll wait while you consider whether you want to un-follow me now...

Still there? :)

Here's the thing: I have really sensitive skin.  Were I to get into the water and lather it up every day, I'd be itching from here to the moon.  It's not even what kind of soap I use either, it's just getting wet too much.  It dries me out.  Maybe it has something to do with growing up in Death Valley.  As it is, Daddy already thinks I have an unhealthy addiction to lotion.

And we shouldn't even get started on my hair.  It's long and thick, and when you wash it more often than twice a week, it dries out and gets all icky.  But you know what?  Every stylist I've been to has told me I've got some of the healthiest hair she's ever seen.

So I guess I've just found what works for me.  The shower sees me once every 3 days or so (unless, of course, I do something sweaty), Daddy doesn't find long hairs stuck to his shower walls every single day; everyone's happy.

That being said, I do try to wash my face nightly, and I'm a clean freak about certain... other things.  I keep those cottonelle wipes in the bathroom (those things rock!), and my razor on the sink for quick fixes.  But luckily, I don't sweat a whole lot and rarely do anything too dirty (well... that's debatable, I suppose... hehe), so this all works out.

Now what made me post this?  Well, Kitty had this post that mentions how she learned that her man likes her natural smell.  And that made me start thinking about pheremones.

In my lifetime, I've had quite a few guys compliment me on my smell--my natural smell, not wearing any perfume.  Finally, one boyfriend told me that he was very attracted to my smell and that I produce a high amount of pheromones.  (Then he had to explain to me what the heck pheromones were! lol)  Perhaps it helps that I don't constantly wash off my body's natural oils and such?

Kitty's blog asks, but I am curious also: what do my readers think?  Have you ever met a man or woman that attracted you in a deep down way that may have been pheromones calling out to you?  Have you ever fallen in love with someone's scent?

Pull My Hair

This song is a little bit ridiculous, a lot naughty and dirty... and probably really offensive.  But I just love the way she moans "Fuck me Daddy, spank me Daddy" during the chorus! :)  So if you feel like getting a little turned-on at the moment (and aren't easily offended!), then here ya go...

Bitch

He stared at her flashing, angry eyes and the unattractive snarl that graced her lips. The sharp words she was throwing at him, the bad attitude she was exuding from every pore… this was unacceptable behavior and she knew it. He could have gotten angry, sent harsh words back at her; heck, this would be the start of a good ol’ knock-down, drag-out fight in most relationships. But not theirs.

Instead of getting angry, he got very quiet. Only his eyes betrayed his annoyance. She saw the way his jaw hardened, his body settling into itself with a kind of determined reserve, and her words dried up as she took a slight step backwards.

“If you’re going to act like a bitch, you’ll get treated like one.” His voice was quite calm, almost soft.

Her eyes clouded with confusion, but he didn’t give her time to decipher his meaning. Instead, he took her wrist in his iron grip and strode to their room, his body a shield, pressing her ahead of him. At the foot of their bed, he halted and stared down at her.

“Strip.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed a little as she fought to get the control back.

“I will not…” she began, but was cut off as he abruptly spun her towards the bed, sat down, and somehow had her over his knee. Five quick, firm slaps against her backside had her squirming against him, yelling for all she was worth. He almost smiled, watching her senseless struggle against his authority; they both knew how this would turn out.

Another five spanks, harder than the last, calmed her down just a touch.

“Are you ready to do as I say now?” he asked evenly.

“Why do you want me to take my clothes off anyway?” Her voice came out as a whine.

Instead of answering, he easily peeled back the loose sweats she was wearing, dragging her panties down too. If there was something he hated more than a snotty attitude, it was the whiny voice that signified her too-obvious bid to talk herself out of trouble.

This time, his hand rained down on her ass hard and fast, not letting up until he felt her body relax across his knees and heard sniffles coming from under the long hair that draped down to hide her face.

He ran his palm gently over her warm, pleasantly red skin. “Will you obey me now, little one?”

A very quiet, damp “Yes, Sir” drifted up to him.

He helped her off his lap, gazing at her as she stood there, her pants at her ankles, panties down around her thighs, tears and snot running down her face, and wondered how he could ever love someone more than he loved her. Which, of course, meant that he had to stick to the punishment he’d decided upon.

“I want you completely naked,” he instructed as he rose from the bed and went to his closet on the far side of the room.

He found what he wanted and returned to her side. Her clothing was a pile at her feet; the only thing she still wore was her everyday collar. He moved behind her, pushing her hair out of the way and unfastening her collar. Not understanding his intent, she started to turn around, a cry of denial ready to jump from her throat, but a sharp warning slap on one bright red buttock stopped her in her tracks.

“Trust me, little one,” he murmured, slipping a wide leather collar around her neck. He buckled it snugly and then turned her around to face him, threading one finger through the collar’s o-ring and pulling her face close to his.

“If you’re going to act like a bitch, you’ll get treated like one,” he repeated. He let her go. “Down on your hands and knees, little bitch.”

She looked at him for a moment, seemed to see the steely resolve in his eyes, and dropped to the floor. He picked something off the bed, then moved so that he was behind her again. What was that? she wondered frantically. A cane? Belt? She wasn’t prepared for him to kneel behind her and spit. She groaned inwardly as she felt wetness slide down the cleft of her ass. The groan became audible when his fingers caught the liquid and began working it into her tight hole.  She started to squirm.

He smacked her bottom, right on the sit-spot, making her jump. “Hold still,” he directed. One finger became two, then three, pushing and stretching her out. Suddenly, something cold and hard was pressed against her. He pushed the butt plug in and she felt herself close around it right before she felt something else brush her thigh. What the…?

There was no time to wonder. “Look behind you, little doggy,” he stated. Obediently, she turned to look back at him, and got an eyeful of their full length mirror instead, where her ass, complete with long, black tail, was on display.

“Come,” he ordered, walking towards the bedroom door. He didn’t even look back to see if she was following. Resolutely, she crawled after her Master.

He stopped in the living room, right next to the large crate where their Retriever slept at night. He opened the metal gate, bent, and pulled the doggy bed out, replacing it with the soft blanket she usually kept on the sofa for when it was cold. He motioned with his hand. “In.”

He sounded just like he did when he ordered the dog around! Her cheeks reddened to match her ass, and, for a moment, she couldn’t even look up at him.

“Please, Sir…” she murmured.

“Now, little bitch,” he said, his tone softening just a little, just enough to remind her that he knew what was best for her, that he would never let her get away with anything she shouldn’t be doing.

She crawled into the crate, pushing the blanket around to make a soft spot for her to cuddle into. He bent down, setting her sock monkey inside with her.

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing the top of her head. Then he shut and latched the door and sat down on the nearby sofa to watch television.

With a sigh, she curled up on the blanket, sock monkey in her arms. Her ass throbbed, and felt very full with his humiliating plug in it. But her self-importance and spiteful attitude had totally dissipated, leaving behind a soft, relaxed little sub in their place. Exactly what Master had intended, of course.