My first orgasm was achieved using a showerhead and I've never forgotten the power of that first orgasm as it coursed through my body. Feeling nostalgic, I slipped into my tub for some quality me-time.
It's Saturday night, and if I'm honest, my heart is a little heavy. I've tried all the things—worked out, stayed busy, checked off the boxes of self-care—but some nights sadness lingers anyway. So tonight, I'm choosing not to run from it. I'm choosing to sit quietly with myself, offer myself a little grace, and practice the often difficult art of self-love. Healing isn't always beautiful. Sometimes it looks like a woman alone on a Saturday night, loving herself enough to stay.
🍀 Slipped into my green just in time for St. Patrick’s Day…and I'm feeling a bit mischievous today.
Care to join me while I go chasing my rainbow?
They say there’s gold at the end… but I might need a little help finding it. ✨
Ohh, my goodness! What was meant to just be a quickie turned into me surprising him with new lingerie and him surprising me with new positions! I'm so grateful we can laugh as we experiment and thoroughly enjoy each other's company.
There’s something about a rainy day that makes everything feel closer… softer… thick with temptation.
I gave in to the mood, letting myself drift into a moment of quiet, delicious indulgence.
I’m in the kitchen, dinner nearly done - burgers finishing, green beans softly steaming - while a scandalously good book murmurs in my ear. And somewhere between the heat of the stove and the heat of the story… I’ve found myself a little undone.
I just need a moment.
Just a moment to slip away and tend to the indecent throb between my thighs, to ease the distraction splitting my thoughts. Will it be possible to return to the kitchen looking composed and appropriately resigned for the evening?
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