It's a lonely Monday, and my heart aches.
So tell me... will you pretend you're on FaceTime with me tonight? Keep me company while the stars burn themselves across the sky?
Tell me what you want. Flirt with me a little. Make me laugh. Stay up far too late with me.
Because tonight, I'd much rather lose track of time with someone delicious than be alone with my 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?
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.
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.
Happy Friday. We were gifted a new piece of furniture and were eager to try it out. We had just been to the gym, and I was itching for a shower, the thought of it was like a sweet promise after a sweaty workout. But Jack had other plans. Caring little for my glistening skin, he intended to ensure I deserved my shower! The most surprising discovery with this additional piece of bedroom furniture is that it almost necessitates a third person to use it properly. It's a twist we didn't see coming. Now if only a third was available to help!
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 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. 🌹
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!
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?
The morning light is soft… but I’m not feeling particularly innocent.
No makeup, no effort… just a mask between you and me. I thought I’d let you wonder what’s underneath.
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