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?
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 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.
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!
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?
Isn't it wonderful when a simple lunch break becomes an impassioned moment filled with gentle kisses, mind-numbing orgasms, and shared laughter? As the peaceful interlude came to an end, Jack seemed to wander off, leaving me with a hint of concern over whether the steamy session had reached its conclusion. My Inner Goddess was far from sated! Thankfully, Jack knew better as he quickly retraced his steps. And just like that, my worries melted away, replaced by wave after climactic wave!
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 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.
There’s something about a rainy day that makes everything feel closer… softer… thick with temptation.
I gave in to the mood, letting myself drift into a moment of quiet, delicious indulgence.
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