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Sanity is overrated!

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Pleasure

What Does It Take To Really Live?

To live is the rarest thing in the world-most people exist, that is all.

—Oscar Wilde

Truth.  Every time that I contemplate this quote, I am sharply reminded of how easily I am hypnotized into a mere exist-ing state of living.  The ease with which my mind and body fall into the slavery of earning a living, doing class work, grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, did-I-hit-the-snooze-button-again-blue-pill-taking mentality is sometimes terrifying and therefore, I have decided to set down a few items in order to help me keep it real and avoid sleep-walking while I am awake.  Here goes:

What Makes Me Feel Most Alive

  • Connecting with other humans-either intellectually, physically, or spiritually.
  • Creating-making beauty from the ordinary or unappealing.
  • Seeing promise in the discarded.
  • Anticipation of passionate encounters and fantasies and then making a point of engaging all of my five senses in the experience.
  • Nature and the outdoors and the unexpected varieties of pure, beautiful, and obscure upheavals of the raw forms of evolving biological life.
  • Smells that evoke strong memories-especially sex smells and the pheromones of myself and certain others.
  • Music that transports me to another time in memory or an imagined concept of another time and triggers physical stimulation.
  • Running makes me feel alive and connected to my physical existence by being out of my head and into my organic expression.

There you have it–and I hope reading my list has inspired you to wake up and smell the coffee because we don’t get any do-overs in this life.  I have said my “good-byes” to the blue-pill life and now I am heading out the door for one of my red-pill taking, no-more-fucking-sleep-walking runs!

Please share some of your living vs. existing experiences, if you are so inclined…I would enjoy hearing from you…XO

Carlos is One Bad-Ass Mo-Fo!

I was in the presence of greatness and I am still reeling in the euphoria of drums, keyboards, bass, and one bad-ass electric guitar!  Mr. Carlos is 69 (perfect!) and has not lost his phenomenal groove with the instrument of his choice of expression.  Let me assure you that the thrill of being so close to the source of such talent and focus is to be invited on a trip with like-minded souls to another dimension.  If that sounds a little dramatic, it is but the night was truly an honor and a blast to the past for this seventies chick!  I would like to add that the drummer is his current missus and she was absolutely crazy awesome on those bad boys!  I am certain that Mr. Carlos has enjoyed the strength and stamina of those arms on many occasions. 🙂

The event took place at the House Of Blues in Las Vegas and I can tell you that there exists not one bad seat in the house.  HoB still offers General Admission and that is where this music-lovin’ chick prefers to boogie to live music.  Down on the floor, I was a mere five-to-six like-minded bodies from the man himself and if you will please forgive my amateur skills (apparently iPhone and Windows have some issues working together), you will enjoy the video.  Three hours of dancing, sweating, and grooving to the sounds of one talented soul communicating to another through the language of music and I was one happy girl!

There is definitely an encore in the near future…

 

Kiss My Ass…Don’t Mind If I Do!

Finally!  The scheduled rendezvous arrived and my pump was primed.  I had been waiting to get my lips wrapped around this tasty testosterone for quite a few months and although I have been in a relationship of sorts, as the conclusion became inevitable my mind was caught repeatedly wandering to the prospect of rekindling some fire with my former flame.  Any healthy female can attest to the truth of the old adage “the best way to get one out of your head is to get another in your bed” and this prescription is strong and is backed by some pretty solid stats.

He arrived early in the morning and my senses were instantly alerted by his aroma, a musky cocktail of light perspiration combined with morning java and his natural deliciousness.  After nudging him into the bed and removing what was left of his clothes, I had him lay upon his stomach while I softly kissed his neck and back and then proceeded to his nether regions.  First kissing one cheek and then another, I had him maneuver up onto his knees and I slowly began to lick down the crack of his fine ass.  Deliberately, I  licked south and north and applied a mild pressure with my tongue to the area between his scrotum and that most secret of man-places.  He moaned with pleasure as I entered his bum with my firm and erect tongue.  I gently stroked his penis while applying a gentle, warm and wet tongue-lashing to his formerly off-limits behind.

For those females who have not yet dared to go where no man has gone before, I cannot encourage you enough to indulge your man with this exotic pleasure.  Not only will it trip your guy into the throes of ecstasy but you will be surprised at the powerful aphrodisiac that dwells between the tender balance of his vulnerability and your determination to seek his trembling capitulation.

Thank you, Steven Tyler!

Writer Lady

Since I’m a grown-up lady

With stories bursting in my mind

I will sit and write all night long

Oblivious to the time

The world drops off around me

When keyboard meets the hand

And dimensions never heard of

Are now at my command.

Impossible does not exist

When under my control

Imagination is the limit

Until the tale is told

I wield a nuclear pen

And time is obsolete

Reality has slipped away

And creation sits at my feet!

Existential Exhibitionism: Part VII

She looked around; it was definitely time to get some projects completed.  As a single woman, the never-ending compilation of “male” tasks was always an issue.  Who in their right mind would ever want to spend their Saturday cleaning and organizing the garage?  Not to mention the yard work!  She practiced her procrastination skills as if they were an art form; until the day the notice came from her HOA.  These “memos” were certainly helpful in keeping the neighborhood nice, but what a pain!  Ah well, there was no escaping the mundane tasks of life and they could certainly be a bitch and it was time to quit whining and get busy or the HOA would have its hands in her wallet.

She dressed in her cut-off shorts and a tight-fitting tee, tennis shoes, and sunglasses; she was ready to tackle the mother!  Stepping into the yard, the weeds and other debris were everywhere so she set about getting the proper tools from the garage and began to work.  She had been at her task long enough to produce a light sweat and as she wiped the moisture from her eyes and face, she poured a light stream of water down between her butt-cheeks…ahhh, refreshing!  The bottle of water she had stashed in the freezer in preparation for this particular task had come in handy and she liberally poured some down the front of her tee.  As she looked around, she definitely was making progress but there was a lot left and honestly she would rather be doing anything else!

As she continued to work diligently at her task, she was oblivious to the man who had been studying her industrious form.  Feeling that uncomfortable sense of being observed, she looked up to see a good looking man, about six feet tall and nicely built, smiling at her efforts.

“Can I help you?” She asked sarcastically, aware of her wet tee shirt and her shorts which had the appearance of sweat in her butt-crack; normally, she would have never been caught dead in this predicament but it was yardwork and she was annoyed; who the hell comes to your fence and just stares at you without offering to help?!  She decided to allow her irritation to show through, unfiltered.  “If you are selling something, the answer is ‘no’ and if not, either pick up a shovel and help me or hit the road.”

Much to her surprise, he came through the gate and picked up a rake and began to clean up the weeds she had feverishly hoed.  She watched him casually, every now and again, wondering where she had seen him before and as she accepted his presence in her space she noticed his finely chiseled features and small, tight butt.  He had a way of smirking that allowed her to suppose that she could imagine what he was thinking about and she decided that maybe her appearance was a bit more enticing that she realized…?  As she continued to slyly study him, she decided that he was definitely doable and she was determined to find out if he was all that his looks seemed to promise.  They continued to work for a while in silence until finally she decided that at the minimum she would offer him something to drink.

“Would you like to come inside for a cold drink?  Is this your way of doing your Boy Scout deed of the day?”  She teased.

“Well, I was watching you and I thought that you might want some help but I wanted to test your bitch factor first—before I had a chance to ask, you beat me to it.”  He said with a sly boyish grin.

Not exactly certain where she had scored on that test, she decided to ignore the comment until she had figured out if she even cared enough to know.  Entering into the cool house, they were both sweating profusely and she couldn’t help but smell his musky, delicious aroma.  He smelled like Man, and it was good!  There and then she made her decision to have him and have him she would!  Not caring to know anymore, she went with her gut instinct and offered him the opportunity to shower off the sweat that glistened so sensationally on his face and arms.  He was a mixture of lean muscle and deeply tanned Marlboro Man roughness; his green eyes were piercing within the contrast of brown skin and white straight teeth and he had a habit of flicking his tongue to the outer edges of his mouth when he spoke.  Almost subconsciously, she found herself imitating this tongue-flicking gesture and she felt herself getting more and more turned-on as she sensed the heat between her legs…she could really use a spray of that water bottle now!

He politely accepted the clean towel that she held out to him and followed her down the hallway to the bathroom.  As she closed the door, she heard him turn on the shower and begin to disrobe.  Hmmm…should she or shouldn’t she…he was a neighbor and in the name of hospitality…?  Oh hell, yes!

She stripped down quickly and being certain that she heard him enter the shower, she quietly let herself in and in one swift movement she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside.  He didn’t appear to be too surprised but the look on his face was definitely pleasing.  Taking one long survey of her naked body he simply remarked, “I can’t believe how much of a hottie you are…” to which she simply smiled.  Without a word, she began to wash him gently all over his chest and arms and then his back; she tenderly scrubbed his small tight ass and softly reaching between his legs, she lightly rinsed his scrotum and his anus.  He was beginning to harden so she continued down his legs before turning him around to finish.  Then while he watched, she began to wash herself never once taking her eyes off of his; she filled her washcloth with foamy body-wash and began to wash her breasts and stomach while gradually moving below her belly-button.  Once she reached between her legs, she put the washcloth aside and grabbed a hold of his hand and began to guide his movements by allowing his two fingers to explore her lips and finally she led him to her clitoris and showed him how to gently circle it without actually touching it until she was ready.

He dropped down onto his knees and after raising one of her legs and positioning it onto the small edge of the bathtub, he began to lick her by lightly flicking his tongue over and all around her clit…it was absolutely and incredibly hot!  She felt the adrenaline rush inside of her as the urge to explode mounted; she wanted to stay there forever, teetering on the edge of pleasure and capitulation, it was bliss!  She felt every cell of her skin responding and she writhed with physical pleasure that only comes from the excitement of a new partner and the freedom of no expectations.  The orgasm that followed was so deliriously explosive that she embraced it and held it until her quivering legs could not support her any longer.

“Well, if I had known that being a Boy Scout was this rewarding I would have become a lifetime member.”  He murmured sensuously and appeared to be very pleased with himself.  She looked at him and smiled and still she said nothing; talk is overrated at times like these and what she wanted to do to him did not require conversation.

She turned off the shower and toweled him dry; gently guiding him to sit in the chair in her bedroom, she knelt down on the floor and began to massage his penis which was hot and throbbing with desire.  She could tell that he wanted to be inside her but she was calling the shots and she would decide when, or if, that was in his future.  For now, she rubbed and tickled his hardness with her tongue and taking him into her mouth she consumed him until he could hold back no longer and he gave her the precious price of her desire which she swallowed with great satisfaction.  Leaving him like cooked spaghetti, she lightly rose to her feet and dressed.  His eyes followed her every movement and seemed to beg the question of “What’s next?”  To which she simply replied, “That yard is not going to clean itself; let’s hit it!”

 

Moral: A good worker is worthy of his hire.

Love is a Magic Bullet

There comes a time in every woman’s life when the prospect of her next sexual rendezvous seems to be off somewhere on the distant horizon.  Times of sexual famine are difficult to predict when a girl is out and about on her own and unless she has taken an oath of celibacy for a time, she must resort to her stash of battery-operated contrivances.  Dependent upon her state of urgency, the chosen appliance of assistance can vary and many women have their favorite stand-bys, however when time is of the essence and a girl just needs to get the most bang for her buck, she simply cannot beat this little marvel of modern battery-operated technology, also known as Mr. Bullet.

In regard to this small piece of engineering ingenuity, I have nothing but praises to sing; it is versatile, efficient, and…ooh lah lah, don’t let me dare forget to mention extremely effective…!  I came upon this little beauty quite by accident; I was interested in trying out something different, something more portable and discreet and I was led by a very knowledgeable salesperson who introduced me to my little friend (hello, Scarface!).  Having only recently discovered this resource of the “adult store” due to my previously sheltered existence, I felt as though I had found a new kind of Disneyland of pleasure and as long as the expense didn’t break my budget…why not?!

What follows is a summary of my first adventure using this shiny silver miracle of invention whom I choose to call “Mr. B.”

Upon arriving home, I made certain to wash Mr. B and install the proper batteries in the correct direction; this may seem superfluous to you but when a lady has been ignorant in regard to these things…well, let me just say that it finally came to life.  I experimented with the dial a bit to see what sounds and vibrations were possible and I discovered that Mr. B had anywhere from a minor buzzzzz…. to a setting capable of causing a nuclear explosion!  I decided to start with the minor buzz due to the fact that I didn’t even have a learner’s permit to operate the thing and I didn’t want to cause any peripheral damage.  I put in some Santana, stripped away all of my clothing and lie back on the bed with the pillows under my head so I could see what I was doing (this is important).  I put a small dab of K-Y on the perimeter of the Bullet and turned the dial.  Using the tip, I lightly massaged all around the outside lips and was I pleasantly met with a very scintillating response; my body began to relax and then tighten and my legs seemed to open and spread wide of their own accord instinctively aware of what was to come!  Slowly, I began to position the bullet to massage my inner lips around and around until I felt the straining of Her Ladyship, the Queen, begin to beg for some attention.  I have discovered that Her Ladyship can be quite fickle at times, sometimes she is like an open book willing and ready to receive whatever delights are presented, and at other times she is picky and arbitrary and is only receptive to the utmost care and lengthy attention.  This day she was quite anxious to make the acquaintance of this special visitor and wasted no time allowing Mr. B to render a full 360.0 inspection of her attributes and after insisting that he perform several additional rotations of her periphery, she succumbed to the effects of his smooth but powerful advances.  She was quite delighted, and exhausted, and it had only been a mere five minutes!

 

The Famine

Timing.  This little concept has the power to alter or define futures; the mis-played hand, the too pre-emptive strike, or a complacent attitude can either inspire a dig-in-your-heels optimism or a fatalistic pessimism.  Fortunes have been lost by a hand called too soon, or a sell made too late and the same is true of “chance” encounters.  That being said, I have lately been immersed in a sexual famine and although I know I sound a bit dramatic, the practical realities of sexual malnutrition can influence just about every aspect of life and not in a positive way. The simple prospect of going to work without the magic of those miraculous endorphins coursing through the body can be a dismal prospect; these little beauties affect everything and there is simply no consolation available when I am unable to walk into my daily place of bread-and-butter feeling like a million bucks!  I have had my co-workers comment on those days when I seem to be floating on air, as well as those days when I seem to be stuck in the sludge and the contrasts are obvious, try as I might to keep them hidden.  (In fact, if you work alongside a particular cranky-pants, I would not be surprised if he/she were in a state of sexual frustration and deprivation!)

So, back to my story.  Just when things couldn’t have looked any more bleak in this time of deprivation and famine, there he stood in the middle of the store aisle.  As he spoke, I perceived a handsome and intriguing mixture of lust, charm, intensity, and intelligence and this cocktail of the senses was powerful and impossible to ignore.  My mind began instantly to analyze, scrutinize, and strategize as I quietly thought to myself, “Opportunity is knocking and I must know more…some additional research just might be in order…better act fast!”

So, after about 30-seconds of statistically evaluating my chances of success, I asked him for his number and promptly sent him a text.  Although most men will tell you that they like it when a woman makes the first move, truthfully, they can just as easily become very intimidated.  I have found that most men fear the female who comes on more assertively because having been influenced by the advertising-inspired idealistic construct of romantic love, it is assumed that she must be either interested in having a ring on her finger or have the desire for control via a relationship.  In fact, if she is attractive and nicely put together, they can automatically (and wrongly) surmise that she has to be nuts or conniving.  The motive they almost never guess is that maybe this discerning female would like to take a test-drive before any of that even has a chance to develop…?  Therefore, I am very careful and calculating about who I invite to swim in my pond, so to speak, sexual and intellectual chemistry being mandatory water safety skills along with the requisite physical attributes (yes, shallow I know).

Back to my story.  We set a date; so far, so good.  The evening began a little later than usual which made for the perfectly clear message of there-cannot-be-any-misunderstandings-as-to-the-purpose-of-your-visit and although that may sound a bit unromantic, I can assure you it has the exact opposite effect.  Transparency in the female-male relationship is one of the sexiest and most effective forms of foreplay and allows a woman the luxury of relinquishing her anxiety to make room for anticipation (which is far more fun!).  Playing and fantasizing with the idea that there exists a strong probability of a physical connection, allows the release of energies that can better be utilized through the embodiment of mental and physical pleasure instead of nervous tension and allows this female the opportunity to connect for a brief time in my mind with the Creative Divine.  Getting naked is truly an art form and the most creative act that we humans are blessed to experience in this fleshly dimension; sex is an exhilarating adrenaline rush combined with the highest form of tactile pleasure known to man and suffice it to say that this natural form of pleasure can produce in me infinite inspiration—in fact, sex is the catalyst for much of my creative edge being translated into language!

The kissing was deep and the touch was soft and then rough…ooh, lah, lah!  Sparks flew and we both dripped with sweat as one caress lead effortlessly to another and the Queen acquiesced to lowering her drawbridge as his tongue bid entry.  And enter he did; first like the quiet knock on a door and then like a battering ram and it was sensational!  I soon discovered that he is a master of language as well and said the nastiest, most delicious things that could have burned down the entire castle if it were not for an unexpected flash flood from the Queen herself!  The smell of him still lingers like a current in the ocean, perceptible and strong, the natural groove of our bodies and the pleasures of sensuous skin-on-skin will likely keep me smiling for a long time to come (no pun intended)!  The despair of famine has been lifted and let me just say that the Queen was very pleased to have her faith in her instincts—and her timing– once again confirmed!

 

The Smell of Man

The images evoked from man’s musky aroma can be like kryptonite to a healthy female and his pungent perfume can have the potency to whet a woman’s appetite and significantly moisten her panties—and a particular man’s fragrant pheromones can stimulate and perpetuate a certain primal urge in even the most demure of females.  Seemingly shy, one whiff and she will proceed to hone-in, hunt, capture, and consume the object of her affections.  No matter how socially sophisticated and polished she may be, the innate drive to satisfy the lusts of her flesh will turn a she-male into an analytical, calculating, and salivating hunting machine.  This is the power of the smell of man and it is a force with which to be reckoned!

One such man has captivated my olfactory senses for several years.  I think he has purposefully stood within my sensory range in order to test his potential to take my thoughts hostage and wet my panties—and he succeeds.  I once read that certain subliminally exchanged chemicals have the power to thwart concentration and destroy lives and if I hadn’t experienced it personally, it would not have been believed!  Once primal  instincts have been triggered, the impulses to sniff him and lick him are almost more than I can control and I feel as if I am starving and about to devour my last meal; I want to engage every atom of sensation that is possible by gluttonously savoring and consuming every last bit of him.  Yes, this is what can become of a sexually healthy and free-spirited soul of a woman when the scent of him is in the air!

Our last encounter was a taste-bud extravaganza which still continues to elicit future fantasies of euphoria and exotic thrills: I licked him in places that may not have ever before seen the light of day—and he was delicious!  Hearing his moans of pleasure and delight was enough to cause me to orgasm right then and there and this memory remains as one of my most fond.  (I was able to persuade him to leave his shirt behind in my safe-keeping, for medicinal purposes of course!)  What is in store for him during our next encounter I do not know, that information is stored within the secrets of my animal-brain but I do so look forward to a second-course adventure…

Meow!

 

Buck-Naked in Bryce

     What is it about nature that just makes you want to take your clothes off?  Somehow it seems unkind to allow the pristine beauty of fresh air, majestic mountains, hellacious hoodoos, and perfumed pine, to bare their all unaccompanied!  Bryce Canyon, Utah, has some of the most magnificent views and breath-taking beauty that has ever been viewed by this human and it seemed wrong somehow to not join in the spectacle of naked nature…so I did!

     Hiking on one of the marked trails, a companion and I discovered the loveliest little river that when followed, led us to its more hidden beauties: a waterfall!  At the bottom of the falls was a rather large pool that eddied up and over and around the surrounding rocks and within the pool was the most striking jade-blue water; it seemed only a matter of time before clothes were off and we were in!  The pool’s location was somewhat isolated and the fear of others coming upon us was minimal, so we frolicked like children in our birthday suits and it was glorious!  The freedom of splashing around, buck-naked in nature, is one of modern life’s remaining simple pleasures and the experience is not to be missed.  The only thing that would have topped the experience would have been to culminate our swim in doing-the-deed, but alas, the water was too cold and … need I say more?!

The satisfaction of completely un-plugging for a few days, leaving all technology behind, was a salve for the soul that every human should allow themselves to experience on a regular basis.  To know that the outside world cannot intrude upon such a serene and peaceful back-drop was very comforting (and ironic!) and that does not even take into account sleeping under the stars, naked, in the unimpeded blackness of the warm night.  The sounds of birds, cicadas, and chipmunks as they rustled about was the perfect cure for my over-stimulated soul and I reveled in the benefits of its healing powers.  I contemplated the paradoxes of life as I realized that 100-years ago humans were divining ways to enhance their comforts and the contrasting modern culture’s need  to step away from those very same luxuries.  To experience the miraculous effects of healing nature by living outdoors for a few days was glorious!  The sex was awesome, the sleep was sound, and I didn’t even mention how much better the food tasted…!

Did I hear someone say “Road-trip”?

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