š Slipped into my green just in time for St. Patrickās Dayā¦and I'm feeling a bit mischievous today.
Care to join me while I go chasing my rainbow?
They say thereās gold at the end⦠but I might need a little help finding it. āØ
Itās 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 canāt 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.
Butā¦
I suppose Iāll have to make do with my own company tonight.
Which, if Iām being honest, isnāt 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...
Itās a shame, really. š¹
I wanted to treat myself by getting out of the bedroom and show myself some self-love under the Christmas lights. It felt incredibly freeing to be in an open space and focus on me, but also freaking naughty.
It's Saturday night, and if I'm honest, my heart is a little heavy. I've tried all the thingsāworked out, stayed busy, checked off the boxes of self-careābut 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.
Iām 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⦠Iāve 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?
The morning light is soft⦠but Iām not feeling particularly innocent.
No makeup, no effort⦠just a mask between you and me. I thought Iād let you wonder whatās underneath.
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Itās 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 canāt 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 Iāll have to make do with my own company tonight. Which, if Iām being honest, isnāt 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... Itās a shame, really. š¹
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