It's a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. I feel my need, desire, and loneliness pulling my thoughts away from my to-do list and back into the bedroom. I don't have time for this, the windows are open, what if someone hears? Honestly, though...I don't mind if they do. There is nothing wrong with a little self-pleasure.
I don't want to just run through the motions and I decide to slip into a little lacy, green one-piece, surprised how it melts like butter, conforming to my body. With a chagrinned smile, I realize the cup size on my lingerie is much too small for my new breasts. A good problem to have, I muse.
I turn the camera on, moving in front of its eye, I'm far too critical of my body but seeing the dark green lace caressing my body, I'm a little tickled to enjoy myself. Feeling confident, I decided to take things a step further and bring out my dildo. I rarely play with him...he just brings the intense longings for a partner to the surface. I struggle to fully leave my body and immerse into the blissful release of an orgasm. But not today.
Deep breath...this is about me enjoying myself.
It's Valentine's Month, and I've been practicing my oral skills! How am I doing? What are some tips or tricks you suggest that might spice up the big day? ;)
It’s been one of those days… the kind that lingers all the way to my marrow.
So here I am...bath drawn, water warm and waiting, my vibrator waiting... and what to do with this rose? I find myself wanting to be… attended to. Indulged, just a little.
It feels almost decadent. Almost like something meant to be shared.
I can’t help but wonder how it might feel to have someone here… someone attentive in that unspoken way, a touch dangerous with their tenderness… the kind who takes their time, who notices the small things without being told.
But…
I suppose I’ll have to make do with my own company tonight.
Which, if I’m being honest, isn’t the worst consolation. I can be quite persuasive when I want to be… and I do know exactly how I like to be treated.
Still...
It’s a shame, really. 🌹
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.
What a night. Still cloaked in my raven costume, I felt the thrill pulse through me, anticipation fluttering like wings against my skin. I could barely wait for him to draw me close, his hands firm yet gentle as he lifted me high, freeing me to soar under the midnight sky. Together, we danced beneath the stars, our shadows blending in the starlight, silent whispers shared only with the night. In his arms, I became weightless, powerful—captivated by the mystery of it all.
The morning light is soft… but I’m not feeling particularly innocent.
No makeup, no effort… just a mask between you and me. I thought I’d let you wonder what’s underneath.
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