A New Kink!

Just a little witchy fun this afternoon.

The function with friends was delightful, and we returned to the house at nearly midnight, filled with joy. I was still feeling frisky and flirtatious in my little white sundress. Not ready to sleep, I decided to surprise Jack with a bit of naughty fun before going to sleep. The thrill of anticipation for his reaction was so intense that I was rather impatient for him to finish his evening preparations, but it was so worth it!

My Dom had just left, and I failed to get pictures or videos for my guy. However, I thought to titillate his senses by sending him something to enjoy until he can reclaim me tomorrow!

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. 🌹

Newly divorced and learning about my sexuality and my own self pleasure.

Is this a present you want to unwrap this holiday season?

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.

One last time. We were both feeling a little sad as I packed my bags. Jack had been watching sedately from the couch as I sorted my belongings. A week was a long time to be apart. In this modern age, a week doesn't seem that long with the advancements we have in technology, but after spending two weeks cuddling every night, a week apart was going to seem like a month. The thought of leaving him on such a sad note, with my bags waiting by the door, was unbearable. But my love for Jack was so deep that I was determined to change his mood, to give him one last time, knowing the emotional impact of our separation.

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?

After a long day at work, it's time to find a little Christmas Spirit underneath all my ruffles.