Saturday, April 19, 2014

Easter Overshare

Things I'd love/things I miss

I'd love to get put over your knee. I'd love to have you leave the house with the smell of my cunt drying on your fingers, subtly scenting your day. I'd love to lock your wrists to your ankles and open you up with slick, gloved fingers and watch you squirm and buck and beg to have your cock touched. I'd love to have you hold my wrists over my head, and be pinned under you while the hardness of your cock presses onto my clit, grinds against my soft, fat pussy while you kiss me. 

I'd love to be kissed again, the lean in, the tentative touches of lips and tongue, a tongue driving into my mouth while your cock pushes against me, to have my face sting from spit and bristle... I'd love to kiss you, stretching up to reach. You're so tall. 

I'd love to click my fingers and have you drop to your knees... 

I'd love to have my wrists stroked, I'd love to kneel for you, feel your hands in my hair pulling me onto your cock, I'd love to have the taste of you, the silk of you on my tongue. I miss it, so. 

I'd love to have my jaw pressed open, your thumb pushed into my mouth while you hold my face and reach up my skirt and slide your fingers into me.

I'd love to slide my hand over your ass, between your legs while we're out and waiting to come home, walk home knowing you're hardening at the promise of what's to come, and feel that answering fist inside me pressing, and your hand on the back of my neck, making me wet.

I'd love to have someone hold the weight of my breasts for a minute, squeeze the pain out of my shoulders, scratch the marks of my clothes off me, tie me up and make more. I'd love to feel arms about me that press me against a heartbeat, I'd love a shoulder to push my face into just for a while. I'd love to be held by someone tall and strong and let myself feel safe, just for a while. And to carry all that home with me, hold it in myself and feel that feeling of peace, of happiness. A little respite. 

I have so much to ask. 

Porn is funny sometimes

'Mistress smothers slave using her cellulite stricken ass cheeks'

It's a little poem. 

Wednesday, April 2, 2014


I ended up in a communal changing room, wandering around, trying to find a free shower. Or one not under construction. You were there too, except I think you were called Simon. We chatted, and I finally gave up my efforts to cover myself with the slightly-too-small-for-me towel and got comfortable being dream-naked too... at which point you giggled affectionately at what you called my 'cute, granddad ass'.

I woke up feeling... unencouraged.

My subconscious is not my cheerleader.