Dinner with Cara and Beth was fun, as always. JJ joined us later in the evening and chatted for a while before Cara and Beth left. Then he met me in the parking lot.
Not wrapping my arms around him was difficult. Meeting in public places sucks. He's too good at acting indifferent like I'm just another casual acquaintance, like I'm not the woman who makes him moan with pleasure and who shudders with ecstasy repeatedly as he fucks her hard. Sometimes he's so good at pretending that I feel a little uneasy.
Of course he's good at pretending nothing's going on, I reminded myself. We wouldn't have lasted 9 months if he wasn't good at lying, particularly at home.
"Where would you like to go?" I asked him.
We both knew we only had about 45 minutes until I had to go. My husband had been monitoring me very closely and the fact that I was allowed to go out at night without a chaperone was a miracle in itself. I couldn't push my luck too far.
"Well, if it was up to me...." he said, his voice trailing off like he didn't want to finish.
"What? Where would you go if it were up to you?"
He smiled. "Well, I would find a nice dark spot and..." He reached out a hand and squeezed my hand briefly before dropping it and looking around nervously. We were definitely not in a deserted, dark place right now. We were in a busy, well-lit parking lot.
I smiled back. "Let's do that then."
Fortunately for us, unlike you city dwellers, within ten minutes we could be hidden on a dark country road in the middle of a large patchwork of fields. There are no street lights out there. The only lights are those from passing cars, and if we picked the right road, there would be few, if any, passing cars.
We got in our cars and JJ followed me out of town. We live in opposite directions, but since I was the one with the curfew, I drove toward my house. Every minute closer to my house was a minute more we'd have together.
But I didn't want to waste too much of our time driving either, so I picked a road that wasn't too far away. We passed an RV park (who vacations in an RV park in the middle of nowhere like this?), then we turned a corner. No houses nearby. No lights.
I pulled over, careful to avoid the irrigation ditch while making sure I was completely off the road. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw JJ pulling over behind me. I really hope he sees that ditch, too, I thought.
I turned off the engine and got out of my car. I turned and took a step toward JJ's car, but he was already by my side, reaching out, pulling me closer to him. Before his lips reached mine, he whispered, "I've missed you."
We both sighed into that first kiss. It really had been too long since I was with him last, even though it had only been a week or two. We kissed a long time - one of those "time stands still" kisses.
I could have been happy just standing there in the dark kissing him for the 30 minutes left before I had to go home. But then I felt his hand slipping into my pants and sliding between my legs. I leaned against my car as his fingers found what they were reaching for. My breathing quickened as he played with my clit.
Geez, I thought. He knows exactly how to touch me ....
Soon, I couldn't think. I held onto him tightly, digging my fingers into his leather jacket as I started to shake.
Then a car came around the corner toward us. Damn! He pulled out his hand and slipped his arm around me. We held each other like that while the car passed. Then another. Another.
Suddenly, our abandoned country road seemed like a busy highway. Didn't these people know our time was limited?
When the last car passed and we were in the dark again, his hand went right back to work. Within a minute he had me shuddering and moaning again. After the orgasm subsided, he slid his fingers deeply inside me and slowly started finger fucking me. Soon, I was pumping and writhing against his hand, needing to come again. He whispered in my ear, "That's it, Baby, fuck my fingers...."
I reached down and felt his cock through his pants - rock hard. His fingers were nice, but that's what I wanted.
We moved around to the passenger's side of my car. I opened the door, turned off the interior lights, sat down and pulled him close so he was standing right in front of me. I started unfastening his pants.
"You're on lookout duty, " I said.
"No problem, " he replied.
As soon as his cock was freed I took it into my mouth. He moaned and put a hand on the back of my head, guiding me to take him in deeper. I lapped up his pre-cum hungrily, then....
Another car. And another. Clearly, I picked the wrong road. Note to self: Don't park for a late night rendezvous so close to an RV park.
After the cars passed, I kissed him and started stroking him.
"I want to feel you inside me," I whispered, not quite sure why I was whispering out here.
"Anything you want," JJ said, grinning broadly.
I turned around, pulled my pants down to my ankles and bent over, leaning inside the car with my hands on the seat.
My mind was skipping from thought to thought as he positioned behind me. The car seat in the back. The kids at home. How I really should keep my car interior cleaner. The fact that if it were daytime now I would definitely not be in this position. My amazement at how much I love this man.
Then the thoughts stopped when he entered me, his hands on my hips pulling me back onto him as he pressed forward. He fucked me hard - exactly the way I like it - deep, forceful, fully controlling everything, almost indifferent to my begging for more, not changing a thing as I started to come, bucking back against him. He dug his fingers into my hips and groaned loudly as he came, still thrusting hard into me, slowing just a little as he enjoyed the sensations, making it last.
I moaned when he pulled out, reluctant to give him up. I reached down and pulled up my pants quickly.
Another car drive by. We walked carefully to his car in the dark, avoiding rocks and the irrigation ditch.
Once in his car, we kissed some more, and noted that we still had some time to talk. And talk we did...about our families, about work, about our his electronic toys, about my newest hobby, about our schedules for the next week and when we might be able to see each other again. Each new topic was punctuated by kisses, both of us torn between wanting to talk and wanting to keep our physical connection going until the last moment we had.
Eventually, I knew I had to go. We kissed a final time and I walked back to my car. He followed me for a while until he turned one way and I turned the other.
I sent him a text telling him how amazing he was. He sent me a text saying...well, saying something very loving and sweet.
Then I focused on getting home, thinking about the details of my alibi for the next time we'd meet. I opened the moonroof so I could see the sky and noticed the clear night sky and the stars I was looking at just 30 minutes ago as I was standing in the road, holding onto JJ and coming with abandon.
I smiled. I love the country.
And that man.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
The Other Side of Prowling - A Guest Post by SomewhereMan
This is the dark side of prowling. When the dark days stretch on and the ecstasy that marked a lover has now turned into despair when she becomes a "former" lover.
Perhaps it's the holidays that do it.
Perhaps it's the short days, where the sun is a faded purple sky by 5 p.m.
Those glorious summer nights of making love with a forbidden woman who had potential to be "the one" is now replaced with trying not to slip and fall on an icy sidewalk as you walk to get the mail.
This is the life we've chosen. This is the profession we've chosen.
Prowling.
Not alcohol, which is socially acceptable. Not gambling, which is now government-approved.
These are affairs.
Fuckin'.
Fornicatin'.
And incredibly fabulous.
I've given up "the life", largely because I have seen the dark side this year. I've flown too close to the sun. A while back, I came home to a wife who filled out divorce papers -- all I had to do was sign - as she "caught me". Well, sort of.
She caught me "enough". Enough where I was out of my house for two weeks. Enough where my kids were wondering "why isn't Daddy here anymore?". Enough where I was doing the math, trying to figure out how I won't be eating Ramen noodles in a year in some crappy apartment after I send away 60% of my take home pay.
The same weekend of my getting kicked out, my lover dropped me. Perhaps she, after weeks of asking when *I* would file and we could start a life together, finally became scared enough that it was about to become real. Perhaps she took a look at me and decided I just wouldn't be as much fun with half my money or living in an apartment for a while. There is a real quality about affairs that is undeniable -- you may see your partner on a "bad day" but, when you meet in a hotel, a park or (gasp) at the other person's house, it is never a bad day. It's a sexy encounter, where you're not worried about a sick child, a medical bill, your job. Certainly not what your spouse thinks.
Each day would turn into possibly even the best sex of your life.
I went into all of this about a year ago, first with an emotional affair and, when that ended, a "manwhore" phase. Damn that was fun. Risky. Guilty feelings tugging all over but undeniably fun. I turned from a man, ignored and neglected at home by a wife, into a man cruising the aisles of Target, batting eyes with all of the mommies to see who would look back, who would say 'hi', who would even stop their chat, smile and chat. Some did. A drug.
And I was and still am an addict.
Of course, all of this could have been so much easier without the feelings. Yet they crept in with the final lover of this run. Have you ever experienced a lover who, even during a "bad day", you look at and, truly believe, "I could make it really work with this person"? Or "I will never tire of waking up next to this person, even when she is 87 and has dentures"?
I finally did. I finally met that woman.
I can't even explain the level of comfort and security that brought.
Even as I allowed myself to believe the pillow talk, the promises in the dark, the notes that said, "should we just both file now and get married next year?" It's so easy to let yourself get caught up in the Fantasyland of a torrid and tantalizing affair. I certainly did.
Turns out she was just in it for the sex. At first, so was I but, gradually, I learned to love the entire person.
The "if only" game starts to come up. "If only" I hadn't believe her soft words after making love. "If only" I had the guts to pull the trigger on the divorce. "If only" I was a little more patient.
Yet when there is a relationship with a "disparity of affection", the clinger (that's me) is at the mercy of the dominator (her). And it hurts. You find yourself at the whim of this person through every facet of the relationship. You're constantly wondering why she shows up, gets naked and rides you like a Brahma Bull but can't send a "sweet dreams" text at the end of the night.
All until, one day, you're in the shower, depressed that she is gone. You look at your well-worn body in the mirror and ask, "why did I have to let the feelings get in the way?"
When you are the clinger, nothing works. You have no power. You ignore her for two weeks but the second she sends a text, you melt and text back, like a puppy that hasn't been fed in a week. You pour your heart out to her, when she is confused and scared, and that only sends her further away.
Once the realization that she herself is now prowling hits, it is an ego crusher. Knowing that richer, more powerful men, some of whom you know casually, are now enjoying the sweet woman who said she wanted to make it forever stabs the soul and pierces the heart.
All because I let the feelings get in the way.
After this, I can't say I have any intention to return to "the life". At least not physically. The real silver lining here is that wife and I have reconciled. All the way. The sex is now at pre-marital levels, three times a week and she is even into it a bit. Wife lost a bunch of weight, cooking dinner again (ha!), smiling at me when I walk in the door and, damn, she is lookin' pretty hot now.
Yet I find it more difficult to pull away from this prowlin' community. I like you people. :) We can be brutally honest in these blogs and forums about what we want, how we are able to live the "double life" and, also, how to protect each other. There is some amount of honor among thieves in this community and I don't want to give that up. It's odd, really. Some of the people I find myself trusting the most are people who can't even be trusted in their own homes.
However, I know that we all share these secrets of our lives -- secrets that could, easily, destroy everything and anything we have spent years building.
Continued fun and frivolity for all of you. Just keep those feelings in check. :)
SomewhereMan
Perhaps it's the holidays that do it.
Perhaps it's the short days, where the sun is a faded purple sky by 5 p.m.
Those glorious summer nights of making love with a forbidden woman who had potential to be "the one" is now replaced with trying not to slip and fall on an icy sidewalk as you walk to get the mail.
This is the life we've chosen. This is the profession we've chosen.
Prowling.
Not alcohol, which is socially acceptable. Not gambling, which is now government-approved.
These are affairs.
Fuckin'.
Fornicatin'.
And incredibly fabulous.
I've given up "the life", largely because I have seen the dark side this year. I've flown too close to the sun. A while back, I came home to a wife who filled out divorce papers -- all I had to do was sign - as she "caught me". Well, sort of.
She caught me "enough". Enough where I was out of my house for two weeks. Enough where my kids were wondering "why isn't Daddy here anymore?". Enough where I was doing the math, trying to figure out how I won't be eating Ramen noodles in a year in some crappy apartment after I send away 60% of my take home pay.
The same weekend of my getting kicked out, my lover dropped me. Perhaps she, after weeks of asking when *I* would file and we could start a life together, finally became scared enough that it was about to become real. Perhaps she took a look at me and decided I just wouldn't be as much fun with half my money or living in an apartment for a while. There is a real quality about affairs that is undeniable -- you may see your partner on a "bad day" but, when you meet in a hotel, a park or (gasp) at the other person's house, it is never a bad day. It's a sexy encounter, where you're not worried about a sick child, a medical bill, your job. Certainly not what your spouse thinks.
Each day would turn into possibly even the best sex of your life.
I went into all of this about a year ago, first with an emotional affair and, when that ended, a "manwhore" phase. Damn that was fun. Risky. Guilty feelings tugging all over but undeniably fun. I turned from a man, ignored and neglected at home by a wife, into a man cruising the aisles of Target, batting eyes with all of the mommies to see who would look back, who would say 'hi', who would even stop their chat, smile and chat. Some did. A drug.
And I was and still am an addict.
Of course, all of this could have been so much easier without the feelings. Yet they crept in with the final lover of this run. Have you ever experienced a lover who, even during a "bad day", you look at and, truly believe, "I could make it really work with this person"? Or "I will never tire of waking up next to this person, even when she is 87 and has dentures"?
I finally did. I finally met that woman.
I can't even explain the level of comfort and security that brought.
Even as I allowed myself to believe the pillow talk, the promises in the dark, the notes that said, "should we just both file now and get married next year?" It's so easy to let yourself get caught up in the Fantasyland of a torrid and tantalizing affair. I certainly did.
Turns out she was just in it for the sex. At first, so was I but, gradually, I learned to love the entire person.
The "if only" game starts to come up. "If only" I hadn't believe her soft words after making love. "If only" I had the guts to pull the trigger on the divorce. "If only" I was a little more patient.
Yet when there is a relationship with a "disparity of affection", the clinger (that's me) is at the mercy of the dominator (her). And it hurts. You find yourself at the whim of this person through every facet of the relationship. You're constantly wondering why she shows up, gets naked and rides you like a Brahma Bull but can't send a "sweet dreams" text at the end of the night.
All until, one day, you're in the shower, depressed that she is gone. You look at your well-worn body in the mirror and ask, "why did I have to let the feelings get in the way?"
When you are the clinger, nothing works. You have no power. You ignore her for two weeks but the second she sends a text, you melt and text back, like a puppy that hasn't been fed in a week. You pour your heart out to her, when she is confused and scared, and that only sends her further away.
Once the realization that she herself is now prowling hits, it is an ego crusher. Knowing that richer, more powerful men, some of whom you know casually, are now enjoying the sweet woman who said she wanted to make it forever stabs the soul and pierces the heart.
All because I let the feelings get in the way.
After this, I can't say I have any intention to return to "the life". At least not physically. The real silver lining here is that wife and I have reconciled. All the way. The sex is now at pre-marital levels, three times a week and she is even into it a bit. Wife lost a bunch of weight, cooking dinner again (ha!), smiling at me when I walk in the door and, damn, she is lookin' pretty hot now.
Yet I find it more difficult to pull away from this prowlin' community. I like you people. :) We can be brutally honest in these blogs and forums about what we want, how we are able to live the "double life" and, also, how to protect each other. There is some amount of honor among thieves in this community and I don't want to give that up. It's odd, really. Some of the people I find myself trusting the most are people who can't even be trusted in their own homes.
However, I know that we all share these secrets of our lives -- secrets that could, easily, destroy everything and anything we have spent years building.
Continued fun and frivolity for all of you. Just keep those feelings in check. :)
SomewhereMan
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
I Feel Sorry for Them
I jumped on AM again for a couple of days. I was restless, wondering what I would find. Unfortunately, for the most part, I found more of the same. I honestly feel sorry for some of these guys because, if they keep going like they are, they'll never get laid.
I know AM is a tough place for guys. Women don't answer messages, apparently. Some will string you along forever and never meet. It's easy to get jaded, but please keep in mind that if you act like you're jaded, you have no luck at all.
Here's a sampling of some messages that I actually received in the past 48 hours:
1) "Just email me at xxx@xxx.com. I'm sick of spending money on these stupid credits."
Ok, pal. How about if I don't email? Then you won't have to spend any time on me, either. Bu-bye.
2) "Look at my picture. Then message me if you're interested." (Private key attached.) I didn't look at the picture or reply. The next day, I received this: "Why didn't you message me?"
Because you told me not to.
3) "I'm free during the day. Where are you in xxx-town? Can I come over and pick you up this afternoon?"
I'm sorry. I was pretty sure I didn't write FREE HOOKER in my profile, but I'll go back and check just to be sure.
4) "Do you like to suck cock?"
As a matter of fact, yes, but I'll never be sucking yours.
5) "I don't know why I'm writing this. You probably won't even respond."
I almost felt sorry enough for this guy to reply....almost.
6) " I like (music reference) and (sports reference), too. We're perfect for each other! Wanna get together? I know a nice private place for getting intimate."
Awwwww.....you almost had me. You read my profile. You have a touch of humor. But you pushed the private get together a bit soon. Wait.....my standards are getting pretty low if I find this interesting.
7) "I'm new to this website. Would you be willing to chat for a few minutes to show me how it works?"
Very creative! Trying to tap into a woman's need to be helpful will probably work for some women. The only problem is that I don't go for stupid men. I've got a thing for smart men (I really do).
8) "Wanna fuck?"
Uuugghhhhhh. This is classic, and discouraging. Why would any man think this line would work on any non-hooker?
In spite of all the bad lines, one gentleman (yes, only one) caught my eye. Smart, intriguing, polite, interesting. Hmmm.....I wonder if this will go anywhere.....
**********************
Related Post:
Online Pickup Lines that Don't Work on Women
I know AM is a tough place for guys. Women don't answer messages, apparently. Some will string you along forever and never meet. It's easy to get jaded, but please keep in mind that if you act like you're jaded, you have no luck at all.
Here's a sampling of some messages that I actually received in the past 48 hours:
1) "Just email me at xxx@xxx.com. I'm sick of spending money on these stupid credits."
Ok, pal. How about if I don't email? Then you won't have to spend any time on me, either. Bu-bye.
2) "Look at my picture. Then message me if you're interested." (Private key attached.) I didn't look at the picture or reply. The next day, I received this: "Why didn't you message me?"
Because you told me not to.
3) "I'm free during the day. Where are you in xxx-town? Can I come over and pick you up this afternoon?"
I'm sorry. I was pretty sure I didn't write FREE HOOKER in my profile, but I'll go back and check just to be sure.
4) "Do you like to suck cock?"
As a matter of fact, yes, but I'll never be sucking yours.
5) "I don't know why I'm writing this. You probably won't even respond."
I almost felt sorry enough for this guy to reply....almost.
6) " I like (music reference) and (sports reference), too. We're perfect for each other! Wanna get together? I know a nice private place for getting intimate."
Awwwww.....you almost had me. You read my profile. You have a touch of humor. But you pushed the private get together a bit soon. Wait.....my standards are getting pretty low if I find this interesting.
7) "I'm new to this website. Would you be willing to chat for a few minutes to show me how it works?"
Very creative! Trying to tap into a woman's need to be helpful will probably work for some women. The only problem is that I don't go for stupid men. I've got a thing for smart men (I really do).
8) "Wanna fuck?"
Uuugghhhhhh. This is classic, and discouraging. Why would any man think this line would work on any non-hooker?
In spite of all the bad lines, one gentleman (yes, only one) caught my eye. Smart, intriguing, polite, interesting. Hmmm.....I wonder if this will go anywhere.....
**********************
Related Post:
Online Pickup Lines that Don't Work on Women
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Restless
Things are a lot better at home with Hubby. Heck, even the sex is a lot better. But I'm still restless.
Just as my lover could never replace Hubby, Hubby can never replace him.
I curl up on the couch and close my eyes, pretending to be taking a nap, and I see him standing in front of me. He doesn't have a shirt on and the sight of his bare chest takes my breath away. I reach up and touch him, sliding my hands slowly up over his abs and chest, then standing to keep moving upward to touch his shoulders. I kiss my way up his body, finally lingering at his neck as I curl my arms around him. I feel him slide his arms around me and pull me closer. I look up at him and he kisses me.
I'm aware of my husband in the room, and I know I should not indulge this fantasy. At least not now.
But I can't help it. My thoughts of stepping back into my life in the here and now evaporate with the feel of my robe sliding off over my shoulders. He keeps kissing me deeply as he leans me back onto the coach, holding me firmly so I don't fall.
He climbs on top of me and I instinctively wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. He reaches down and smoothly slides his pants off, letting his hard cock escape. It rubs against my pussy as he shakes his pants off his legs, first one, then the other. I was already moist, but now I'm wet, fully ready for him, waiting for him to take me, needing him to take me. I moan into our kiss.
I wish I could express how much I want him, how much I ache when we're apart, how much I need him, but I can't say anything. I just surrender. I know he can feel it. I know that's what he wants.
I can't stand it anymore, and I'm afraid I'll start moving in a way that will give away what I'm thinking about, so I get up off the couch and head to another room at the back of the house where my husband and kids won't interrupt me, at least for a few minutes. As I close the door behind me, I lean my back against it and reach between my legs, touching myself. I close my eyes again just in time for my lover to roughly turn me around so I'm facing the door, kick my legs apart, and enter me from behind.
I push back against him, wanting more and more of him. He grabs my hair firmly and pulls my head back so he can whisper in my ear.
"Who do you belong to?" he says.
"You," I reply, knowing there is no other response. I am his.
He fucks me hard. I moan, wanting to come, but knowing I need to wait. He knows I won't come without his permission, and he toys with me - slowing down, changing the rhythm, alternating between shallow fast stroke and deep, hard pounding ones. Finally, I start to shake. I tell myself, "No!" trying to stop it, and then I realize I've said it out loud.
He yanks my hair harder and groans through his teeth as pounds me as hard as he can, "No?!? No?!!!?"
I try to say, "I didn't mean that," but my climax hits hard and it comes out between my moans as something like, "I...didn't....not that....no..."
I hear him whispering to me again, "That's it, Baby, come for me. Let it go."
I'm still shaking as he drives his cock deeply into me a final time and holds it. Then he shudders, too, pushing me up against the door harder.
Neither of us moves or says anything for a long time. He kisses my neck. I purr gratefully with satisfaction.
I finally open my eyes and he's gone. I'm leaning against the door in my sewing room, panting, shaking. My hand is drenched. I think about what he would tell me to do, and I lick my hand, sucking my wetness off my fingers.
After taking a moment to collect myself, I leave the room and go to the bathroom to wash my hands. Then I go back into the living room where my husband and the kids are working on a puzzle. I sit back down on the couch and reach for my Kindle.
I start to read, but my mind begins to drift. My eyes close, and he's here again, taking my Kindle, setting it aside, and reaching for me.......
Just as my lover could never replace Hubby, Hubby can never replace him.
I curl up on the couch and close my eyes, pretending to be taking a nap, and I see him standing in front of me. He doesn't have a shirt on and the sight of his bare chest takes my breath away. I reach up and touch him, sliding my hands slowly up over his abs and chest, then standing to keep moving upward to touch his shoulders. I kiss my way up his body, finally lingering at his neck as I curl my arms around him. I feel him slide his arms around me and pull me closer. I look up at him and he kisses me.
I'm aware of my husband in the room, and I know I should not indulge this fantasy. At least not now.
But I can't help it. My thoughts of stepping back into my life in the here and now evaporate with the feel of my robe sliding off over my shoulders. He keeps kissing me deeply as he leans me back onto the coach, holding me firmly so I don't fall.
He climbs on top of me and I instinctively wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. He reaches down and smoothly slides his pants off, letting his hard cock escape. It rubs against my pussy as he shakes his pants off his legs, first one, then the other. I was already moist, but now I'm wet, fully ready for him, waiting for him to take me, needing him to take me. I moan into our kiss.
I wish I could express how much I want him, how much I ache when we're apart, how much I need him, but I can't say anything. I just surrender. I know he can feel it. I know that's what he wants.
I can't stand it anymore, and I'm afraid I'll start moving in a way that will give away what I'm thinking about, so I get up off the couch and head to another room at the back of the house where my husband and kids won't interrupt me, at least for a few minutes. As I close the door behind me, I lean my back against it and reach between my legs, touching myself. I close my eyes again just in time for my lover to roughly turn me around so I'm facing the door, kick my legs apart, and enter me from behind.
I push back against him, wanting more and more of him. He grabs my hair firmly and pulls my head back so he can whisper in my ear.
"Who do you belong to?" he says.
"You," I reply, knowing there is no other response. I am his.
He fucks me hard. I moan, wanting to come, but knowing I need to wait. He knows I won't come without his permission, and he toys with me - slowing down, changing the rhythm, alternating between shallow fast stroke and deep, hard pounding ones. Finally, I start to shake. I tell myself, "No!" trying to stop it, and then I realize I've said it out loud.
He yanks my hair harder and groans through his teeth as pounds me as hard as he can, "No?!? No?!!!?"
I try to say, "I didn't mean that," but my climax hits hard and it comes out between my moans as something like, "I...didn't....not that....no..."
I hear him whispering to me again, "That's it, Baby, come for me. Let it go."
I'm still shaking as he drives his cock deeply into me a final time and holds it. Then he shudders, too, pushing me up against the door harder.
Neither of us moves or says anything for a long time. He kisses my neck. I purr gratefully with satisfaction.
I finally open my eyes and he's gone. I'm leaning against the door in my sewing room, panting, shaking. My hand is drenched. I think about what he would tell me to do, and I lick my hand, sucking my wetness off my fingers.
After taking a moment to collect myself, I leave the room and go to the bathroom to wash my hands. Then I go back into the living room where my husband and the kids are working on a puzzle. I sit back down on the couch and reach for my Kindle.
I start to read, but my mind begins to drift. My eyes close, and he's here again, taking my Kindle, setting it aside, and reaching for me.......
Friday, December 2, 2011
The Sweetest Flower that Bloomed O'er the Range
What could be better than a Guest post for on Fantasy Friday? My sweet buddy Ryan Beaumont, author of The Ashley Madison Adventures of a Regular Guy Gone Bad, has written this great sexy post for us.
Enjoy!
**********************
“Where the Walker runs down to the Carson Valley plain,
there lived a young maid, Darcy Farrow was her name....”
That song, Darcy Farrow penned by Steve Gillett in the 60’s and made famous by Ian and Silvia and later John Denver, had always haunted me. Perhaps it was the beautiful melody yet ultimate melancholy ending that pulled me in. Perhaps it was the image of a young Irish lass and herlover on the range in wild Nevada. Regardless, I had always had a yearning to go and visit those wild and romantic places from that song Yerrington, Virginia City, and Truckee.
Blogging had taken a place in my life. I had always enjoyed writing and often regretted not making a better attempt at making it a life’s work. But now, with my blog, I had my niche and that was enough. But what I didn’t realize was the friendships that would form. I came to know many bloggers, but one stood out. I joked with her that she was the “mother hen” or our little blogging clique. She was so savvy and smart but you could tell there was a caring soul about her.Something about her was magnetic and I knew that one day I wanted to meet her.
“She was courted by Young Vandamere,
A fine lad was he as I am to hear”
Yes, I have to admit I had always fashioned myself a dashing young Vandamere and it was those words that sang through my head as I saw the notice for that conference I attend every year, this time in Reno. Yes, it was the typical fly in Sunday afternoon, two and a half days, and then fly out. But this time I could head out early and have a day to see those sites I so long wanted to see. Truckee, Virginia City were all within a short drive from Reno. Gambling in Reno held no romance to this traveler; I longed to experience those Sierra Nevadas and retrace Darcy andVandy’s steps!
And then it hit me, just a few hours more pushing through those mountains and I would be in California; her California and maybe I could see her.
“They sing of Darcy Farrow where the Truckee runs through,
they sing of her beauty in Virginia City too.”
And so with excitement on a Friday night I hopped on that SWA flight from BWI to Reno with adventure on my mind and Tony Rice’s version of that lovely song on my iPod.
She was delighted that I was coming out and we agreed to meet somewhat halfway. I would drive over on Saturday afternoon and we would meet for dinner in old Auburn. After that, who knew?
“Her eyes shone bright like the pretty lights,
that shone in the night out of Yerrington town”
I figured on a 4 hour trip, factoring in some scenic stops. However, I quickly realized this was a very different part of the world. I can’t count the number of times I’ve driven over an Appalachian Mountain in Western Maryland or the Virginias. But here on the east coast such a mountain might have an elevation of about 2,500 ft. But that would be just a bump in the road along Rt 80 in the Sierra Nevadas. My rental was not fairing too well; I feared I had a lemon. Perhaps I should have upgraded to that Volvo instead of being cheap with a Hyundai.
Finally, just after coming out of the mountains the car died. And even though I was only about 20miles from my destination this was still a very remote area. I was a little worried. I called her to tell her I might be late. She said that was fine and asked if I was OK. When I said my car broke down she quickly set me at ease by saying “don’t worry sweetie I’ll call AAA and have you right out but I’ll drive over now and pick you up. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes, hold tight!”
Sure enough AAA arrived just as she did. They hitched that sad car up and took it off for Auburn.She smiled at me and said “I hate that happened to you, I know you’re tired but I know of this lovely little stream just off the road up ahead, would you like to see it!”
How could I resist my red-headed heroine!
She drove to the next exit and down a small country road then another right onto a smaller gravel road. In a few minutes she pulled off at a road marker and said “this is it, just a 20 minute walk down that path and through some brush to a beautiful little stream.”
I was still a little shaken as we walked. She took my hand and it calmed my nerves.
When we got there it took my breath away. But the stream held my attention only briefly once I was struck by the brilliance of her red hair glistening in the late afternoon sun. She took her sweater off and ran her hands through her hair shaking it loose. She said “this sun makes it just warm enough for short sleeves but that wind does give you a chill.” I instinctively said “let me warm you up.” She walked up to me and turned back to the stream, confidently assuming I would embrace her. I wrapped my arms around her and we gazed at the view.
The wind blew her hair into my face and the sweet smell was intoxicating. Before thinking, I found myself nibbling at her neck. She sighed and turned to me and kissed me fully.
She pulled back slightly and looked up devilishly at me and said perhaps it would be more comfortable behind that bush and followed with a wink and a pinch of my behind! Without a reply from me she took my hand and led me to her destination.
Once there she shook off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans in one fluid motion and then was at my collar unbuttoning my shirt. Before I could really think we were both naked in the cool California air. Her kiss was sweet and her embrace soft and her slow massage of my hips withher’s soon drove me crazy with passion.
I knelt down before her and plunged my face into her. She sighed as my tongue entered her. I turned her around and she lowered herself in front of me. On her knees she grinded against me and reached back with her hand to pull me closer. I guided her shoulders forward and slid my hard cock into her already wet pussy. The sun glimmered off the sheen of perspiration forming on her back and the breeze against my chest was a welcome coolant as I felt like a machine moving in rhythm with her. All the while I shuddered at the beauty of her silky Auburn hair contrasting with the her creamy soft skin. It was exciting to see the shock waves pulsating through her hips as I thrust. Soon we let out sighs in both exasperation and exaltation as we orgasmed together.
We fell forward in the soft sandy earth around that bush and adjacent to that stream. For several moments we were just inanimate flesh in a heap of exhaustion.
Finally I had the energy to sit up. I stared at her contented figure and finally said,
“So how do you feel?”
She replied with a grin, “meeeeeeowwwww.”
I grinned back and with a slight giggle said “Kat dear, somehow I knew you would say that!”
“At dusky sundown to her name they drink a round,
and to young Vandy who’s love was true.”
Here’s to you, Kat!
But don’t actually count on me being as faithful as young Vandy! :)
Enjoy!
**********************
“Where the Walker runs down to the Carson Valley plain,
there lived a young maid, Darcy Farrow was her name....”
That song, Darcy Farrow penned by Steve Gillett in the 60’s and made famous by Ian and Silvia and later John Denver, had always haunted me. Perhaps it was the beautiful melody yet ultimate melancholy ending that pulled me in. Perhaps it was the image of a young Irish lass and herlover on the range in wild Nevada. Regardless, I had always had a yearning to go and visit those wild and romantic places from that song Yerrington, Virginia City, and Truckee.
Blogging had taken a place in my life. I had always enjoyed writing and often regretted not making a better attempt at making it a life’s work. But now, with my blog, I had my niche and that was enough. But what I didn’t realize was the friendships that would form. I came to know many bloggers, but one stood out. I joked with her that she was the “mother hen” or our little blogging clique. She was so savvy and smart but you could tell there was a caring soul about her.Something about her was magnetic and I knew that one day I wanted to meet her.
“She was courted by Young Vandamere,
A fine lad was he as I am to hear”
Yes, I have to admit I had always fashioned myself a dashing young Vandamere and it was those words that sang through my head as I saw the notice for that conference I attend every year, this time in Reno. Yes, it was the typical fly in Sunday afternoon, two and a half days, and then fly out. But this time I could head out early and have a day to see those sites I so long wanted to see. Truckee, Virginia City were all within a short drive from Reno. Gambling in Reno held no romance to this traveler; I longed to experience those Sierra Nevadas and retrace Darcy andVandy’s steps!
And then it hit me, just a few hours more pushing through those mountains and I would be in California; her California and maybe I could see her.
“They sing of Darcy Farrow where the Truckee runs through,
they sing of her beauty in Virginia City too.”
And so with excitement on a Friday night I hopped on that SWA flight from BWI to Reno with adventure on my mind and Tony Rice’s version of that lovely song on my iPod.
She was delighted that I was coming out and we agreed to meet somewhat halfway. I would drive over on Saturday afternoon and we would meet for dinner in old Auburn. After that, who knew?
“Her eyes shone bright like the pretty lights,
that shone in the night out of Yerrington town”
I figured on a 4 hour trip, factoring in some scenic stops. However, I quickly realized this was a very different part of the world. I can’t count the number of times I’ve driven over an Appalachian Mountain in Western Maryland or the Virginias. But here on the east coast such a mountain might have an elevation of about 2,500 ft. But that would be just a bump in the road along Rt 80 in the Sierra Nevadas. My rental was not fairing too well; I feared I had a lemon. Perhaps I should have upgraded to that Volvo instead of being cheap with a Hyundai.
Finally, just after coming out of the mountains the car died. And even though I was only about 20miles from my destination this was still a very remote area. I was a little worried. I called her to tell her I might be late. She said that was fine and asked if I was OK. When I said my car broke down she quickly set me at ease by saying “don’t worry sweetie I’ll call AAA and have you right out but I’ll drive over now and pick you up. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes, hold tight!”
Sure enough AAA arrived just as she did. They hitched that sad car up and took it off for Auburn.She smiled at me and said “I hate that happened to you, I know you’re tired but I know of this lovely little stream just off the road up ahead, would you like to see it!”
How could I resist my red-headed heroine!
She drove to the next exit and down a small country road then another right onto a smaller gravel road. In a few minutes she pulled off at a road marker and said “this is it, just a 20 minute walk down that path and through some brush to a beautiful little stream.”
I was still a little shaken as we walked. She took my hand and it calmed my nerves.
When we got there it took my breath away. But the stream held my attention only briefly once I was struck by the brilliance of her red hair glistening in the late afternoon sun. She took her sweater off and ran her hands through her hair shaking it loose. She said “this sun makes it just warm enough for short sleeves but that wind does give you a chill.” I instinctively said “let me warm you up.” She walked up to me and turned back to the stream, confidently assuming I would embrace her. I wrapped my arms around her and we gazed at the view.
The wind blew her hair into my face and the sweet smell was intoxicating. Before thinking, I found myself nibbling at her neck. She sighed and turned to me and kissed me fully.
Once there she shook off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans in one fluid motion and then was at my collar unbuttoning my shirt. Before I could really think we were both naked in the cool California air. Her kiss was sweet and her embrace soft and her slow massage of my hips withher’s soon drove me crazy with passion.
I knelt down before her and plunged my face into her. She sighed as my tongue entered her. I turned her around and she lowered herself in front of me. On her knees she grinded against me and reached back with her hand to pull me closer. I guided her shoulders forward and slid my hard cock into her already wet pussy. The sun glimmered off the sheen of perspiration forming on her back and the breeze against my chest was a welcome coolant as I felt like a machine moving in rhythm with her. All the while I shuddered at the beauty of her silky Auburn hair contrasting with the her creamy soft skin. It was exciting to see the shock waves pulsating through her hips as I thrust. Soon we let out sighs in both exasperation and exaltation as we orgasmed together.
We fell forward in the soft sandy earth around that bush and adjacent to that stream. For several moments we were just inanimate flesh in a heap of exhaustion.
Finally I had the energy to sit up. I stared at her contented figure and finally said,
“So how do you feel?”
She replied with a grin, “meeeeeeowwwww.”
I grinned back and with a slight giggle said “Kat dear, somehow I knew you would say that!”
“At dusky sundown to her name they drink a round,
and to young Vandy who’s love was true.”
Here’s to you, Kat!
But don’t actually count on me being as faithful as young Vandy! :)
Thursday, December 1, 2011
I Love....
I love laying with you with my head resting on your shoulder, your arms around me, and my fingers tracing my unspoken thoughts of love for you on your chest.
I love that moment when I first see you and you smile as we move toward each other to embrace.
I love the sound and rhythm of your breath as you lay next to me in the silence after we have made love.
I love melting into you and losing myself in your loving kisses.
I love that feeling of surrendering both mind and body to you, knowing I am completely safe with you.
I love the anticipation of seeing you, knowing that the ache of missing you will be replaced soon with the pleasure of being yours again.
I love the sound of your voice in the dim room as you whisper that you love me and command me to surrender to you.
I love knowing that no matter how crazy my life is on any given day, you are in my world and I'll see you again soon.
I love the feeling as you enter me for the first time each time we are together.
I love the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you, the look on your face when you come.
I love your sarcastic and sometimes silly wit and your laugh.
I love the tender way you stroke my hair as you hold me.
I love you.
I love that moment when I first see you and you smile as we move toward each other to embrace.
I love the sound and rhythm of your breath as you lay next to me in the silence after we have made love.
I love melting into you and losing myself in your loving kisses.
I love that feeling of surrendering both mind and body to you, knowing I am completely safe with you.
I love the anticipation of seeing you, knowing that the ache of missing you will be replaced soon with the pleasure of being yours again.
I love the sound of your voice in the dim room as you whisper that you love me and command me to surrender to you.
I love knowing that no matter how crazy my life is on any given day, you are in my world and I'll see you again soon.
I love the feeling as you enter me for the first time each time we are together.
I love the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you, the look on your face when you come.
I love your sarcastic and sometimes silly wit and your laugh.
I love the tender way you stroke my hair as you hold me.
I love you.
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