It was Friday night and I was laying in bed playing on Instagram.
“Girl,” there was a warning in His tone.
“Yes, Daddy?” I didn’t look up, scrolling through more and more pictures of spanking and bondage and thigh highs.
As I mentioned on Sunday, this is the week of Daddy’s birthday, which means there are a little bit of extras when it comes to celebrating and indulgences. Last night was no different. It was movie night, and since I’d never seen it and HH and Lo seemed to find so much enjoyment in it, I opted for Magic Mike.
As always, inspired by Kayla Lords’ Masturbation Monday meme.
It’s amazing the differences between His hands and mine. Mine bring pleasure, over 30 years of familiarity, a life long exploration of folds and depths. My hands know this body.
It was a long weekend. Family. Funeral. Friends.
Drugs and alcohol.
And M and I were up late last night, and didn’t end up fucking until after midnight.
And apparently I got off again on his hand randomly in the middle of the night.
Welcome to my first Wicked Wednesday!
We were drunk.
He more than me, but I hadn’t realized it until it was too late.
Dizzy, He laid down and, in less than a minute, His eyes were closed and His breathing deep.
I have three kids. And my youngest just started Pre-K yesterday. It was a rough start for both of us. But M made it better, took me to breakfast, then golfing. By the time we were done, it was time to get my boy from school.
After being gone for just two days (I know, I know, I made it seem like we were apart forever), I finally made my way home last night. A rushed dinner was followed by story time and bedtime kisses, then the kiddos were tucked into bed and encouraged to fall asleep.
When I was asked by Cleis Press to review Submission: Erotica for Women edited by Alex Algren, I couldn’t refuse. Cleis Press is one of my favorite erotica publishers and who doesn’t like free books!
“Come on, hon.” She walks towards the edge of the water, “I thought you wanted to go for a swim.”
Will follows and drops their towels at the water’s edge, watching Tess’s body move into the water, moon light reflecting off her curves. I’m one lucky bastard.
Here’s a brief piece of erotica for you, dear reader, inspired by this week’s Scene Stealer from Write to Done. You must start your story with their scene, and this week, you had to use the second-person POV.
For years I wasn’t a fan of 69ing. The position exposed more of me than I was comfortable showing and at that point in time, I couldn’t imagine the close up of an ass to be attractive, especially my ass. It made me apprehensive, this discomfort, and therefore jittery and awkward, feeling weird in my own skin.
Very rarely can I call what happens between M and me making love. I don’t have anything against it, making love, but it has a connotation of gentleness and of being tender.
M and I, we don’t make love. We fuck.