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Sanity is overrated!

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Primitive

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.

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!

 

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”?

Primitive Rhythms

I participated in the most unusual experience last night: I went out into the middle of the desert with a group of people and beat a drum to the setting sun.  The purity and humbleness of the Native American drums when combined with the sound of the aurora drums, was magical and time-travel mysterious.  Very soothing and sensual, I became aware of the rhythms and vibrations which helped my mind and body ease into a more primitive and relaxed state.   The setting sun positioned itself against the backdrop of purple desert mountains and it was as if I could feel the awareness of an old soul in union with a former dimension of raw naked life, amidst raw naked beauty.

I wasn’t certain what kind of humans participated in this weekly gathering, maybe some old hippies or New-Agers…?  I am willing to try anything once, so I came with some friends and an open mind; turns out that the people were completely average, no hippies or witches, and they gather once per week to release the stresses of modern life and to embrace the simplicity of the musical heart beating to the rhythms of nature.  In an age when everything has become so complicated, the unencumbered and raw sounds of beauty are most welcome.  I just might try it again…?

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