Just got home… still dressed, still composed… but I couldn’t ignore the insistent, gnawing ache between my thighs. I stole a quiet little moment, but I had to be very, very careful not to make a sound… Do you think I was quiet, or are your eyes focused somewhere lower...
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 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 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? ;)
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.
A little fun that began on the couch caused us to quickly forget about the camera and transition to the bedroom. I was going to trim the off-camera scene but the sounds emanating from the other room...good heavens! Steamy!
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.
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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