Rainfall & Restless Thoughts

I love this video because for 17 perfect minutes, I do not see a single mom, fretfully worried over her kids. I do not see a full-time college student with essays floating around her head. I do not see a stressed-out employee who cries every day at work. I do not see a weary body reaching with a milestone birthday approaching. Rather, for 17 wonderful minutes, I see a woman, utterly twitterpated, full of life, passion, and lust. I see a boyfriend's raw vigor and the adoration pouring from his face. So...what do you see?

I wrapped up work early, naughty excitement bubbling through me as I set the perfect scene to surprise Jack. My plan? To ease onto the bed with my favorite toy, losing myself bit by bit, then call him in when I was already halfway to bliss. But, as if sensing my desires through our tether, Jack bounded in early, catching me right before I could even shed my work clothes. There is something magical in seeing his eyes light up, a torrid swirl of delight and shared lust that only deepens our connection.

I was all riled up after spending my morning engaged in some sexy conversations with a couple of very hot gentlemen. I raced home for a quickie over my lunch break. While I could have used a friend...or two, it felt amazing!

Sunday was a stormy day in central Texas, but that didn't deter Jack from finding the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow!

Sometimes, a girl just needs a solo afternoon to thoroughly enjoy herself on a Friday afternoon free of work and obligations.

Time to celebrate self-love this special Masturbation May!

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.

In the intricate tapestry of love, distances can sometimes magnify emotions, turning a mere hour between homes into an eternity of longing. Jack's meticulous preparations, brimming with the anticipation of my return, paint a fairytale-like picture of devotion and craving. His impassioned kisses spoke volumes, conveying sentiments that words could not fully capture. In his blind passion, he threw me to the couch, not waiting to remove my sundress or heels before ravaging me. It was not until later that I noticed the camera, a subtle yet poignant reminder of the depths of his love and the delightful naughtiness of his heart, adding an unexpected and enchanting layer to our story.

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?