Search

dysfunctionalwomansdigest

Sanity is overrated!

Tag

euphoria

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!

 

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!

 

Mother’s Day Spanking…

I had recently listened to a fellow bloggers audio post of an excruciatingly pleasurable session of an intense sexual encounter combined with a good, hard spanking (thank you, CreamofthePlanet.com) and I was determined to discover whether the experience truly lived up to its hype.  A spanking seemed a bit apropos on Mother’s Day and I didn’t have to wait long before an opportunity presented itself.  Pondering the possibilities of this new adventure, I must say that I was intrigued with the contrasts between pain and pleasure and how the two would combine; let it suffice to say that the adventure did not disappoint!

There is something very mysterious about the way that our brains work when it comes to the sensation of pain.  The systemic release of dopamine by the brain begins to work in conjunction with an increased blood flow to the perceived injury and this, consequently, is the same formula that is activated when we feel pleasure (Thorn, 2016).  The brain pays no attention to distinguishing between the two and this is one of the reasons that we can enjoy the pleasure of some types of pain—and this type of pain is definitely pleasurable!

At first, my partner was a bit hesitant but he soon realized the benefits of this rough play and became only too eager to indulge my fantasies.  After some superficially pleasing sex-play, I suggested that we listen to the audio recording and do our own re-enactment (thank you, again, Cream!); the shock of that first slap resulted in an instantaneous squeal and then I became aware of something else entirely: my vagina became luxuriously steaming hot and wet as my brain reacted to the pain/pleasure sensations.  Not only did the ensuing high from my own body chemicals heighten the physical sensations of a good pounding but I became increasingly turned-on as I became conscious of how my body was responding by increasing my natural lubrication. The only action required of my partner after that was to simply hold his cock in place against my G-spot while I proceeded to orgasm with incredible force and rapturous pleasure!

So, my final review of the experiment was that the experience was both naughty and fun.   A smarting spank (or two, or three!) on the bum resulted in sensational sex, squealing laughter, and a nicely sore reminder of the evening’s amusements that lasted several days!  Happy Mother’s Day!

 

 

Existential Exhibitionism: Part V

Her last encounter was hot, she thought to herself.  It was going to be challenging to top it but she knew she would, of that there was no doubt.  The insatiable cravings of a highly-sexed nature kept her constantly on the look-out for opportunities to satisfy her inner adrenaline junkie and the sweet release that only a good pounding can deliver.

Nevertheless, despite her demanding urges she was very selective.  The object of her affections had to have a slightly arrogant demeanor, the kind that spoke very little in words but whose eyes spoke volumes.  In addition, his covert pride would be combined with a sort of boyish shyness that made him irresistible, no matter his appearance.  Quite often, she imagined that these delectable types were hungry for a “take charge” type of female and that their overbearing attempts at confidence belied a desire to be dominated and seduced.  Oftentimes, she would look a potential candidate up and down until she was certain that his dick was aching!

She noticed just such a specimen, yesterday.  In the neighborhood very near her house, was a construction crew.  One of the group was an unshaven and ruggedly handsome sample and she had made brief eye contact with him.  Noticing that his shirt hugged the muscles in his arms and that his jeans fit nicely around his small, firm butt, she had let him know that she appreciated the scenery and this had resulted in smiles having been exchanged. To make the cocktail (ahem…!) even more appealing, he glistened with a light layer of sweat that could only be described as delectable.  Her hunger having been whetted, she would have had no qualms in licking the sweat right off of him!

Going out to her car the next morning, she noticed that the crew was still at work.  How could she entice him into her house to make a plan for later… when she would be free to ravish every inch of his delicious body?  She thought quickly, perhaps she could ask him if he knew anything about plumbing…?  Catching his eye, she motioned toward him giving the impression of needing to ask a general question; while the crew looked on, he came shyly over to her and she proceeded to ask him if he could take a look at something in her house.  Cautiously, he entered in through the front door and she led him directly into the master bedroom where an annoyingly leaky faucet announced its presence.  Relieved that he seemed to have the situation in hand, he approached the sink with confidence and focus.  Standing closely behind him, she could smell his musky and tantalizing natural sex-his aroma of man-and she wanted to jump him right then and there!  However, decorum decreed that she not get the man fired so she told him to come to her place at 5:30 a.m. the next morning and she would feed him a breakfast of Champions!  She knew she would not be able to sleep a wink that night but the loss of sleep would be worth it!

Awake at 4:00 a.m., she made her preparations.  This ritual was a pleasure all of its own: thinking about him, what she wanted to do to him, what his moans of pleasure would sound like, and how he would taste brought her very near to orgasm.  At last, she heard the light knock at her backdoor.  Her heart pounding and hands shaking with a cold sweat, she reclined on the sofa so as to make his first impression of her enough to render him speechless.  She didn’t want him to talk, not with his mouth, she had other plans for that aperture.  She rose slowly and grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him deeply with her tongue thrusting in and out and all around his tongue.  All the while she was smelling him, tasting him, drinking him in; placing her hands down into his pants, she felt the hardness of his cock.  Undressing him, she stroked his tastiness awhile until she couldn’t wait any longer; she put her lips and tongue on the head of his cock, and licked him all around and tickled the small, tight piece of flesh that strained with desire on the underside of his head.  Looking for the tell-tale signs of his restraint, she saw the tiny drop of white sweetness as it appeared on his tip.  She lapped it off and then proceeded to lick him like a popsickle, swirling her tongue over and around the tip of his cock while she applied suction-like pressure on the down-strokes.  She deep-throated him and cupped his balls and felt them rise up and harden inside him.  He moaned with pleasure and that was what made it all worthwhile-that, and what was to follow.  She led him to her bed and instructed him to position himself on all fours.  Nervously, but willingly, he complied.  She knelt down behind him and began to kiss and lick his beautiful ass.  Working her way over, she began to lightly lick and tickle the sensitive areas between his cheeks.  She was so turned-on by his moaning which in-turn encouraged her own uninhibited instincts causing her to lick lower and lower until she felt the small, tight circle of his butthole.  Licking up and down and all around, she gently inserted her tongue into his most sensitive of g-spots and he moaned with such pleasure that she thought she would explode.  Reaching her hand forward and gently stroking his dick, she thrust her tongue in and out of his butthole while rubbing and lightly squeezing him until he could stand it no more and erupted in glorious and exhilarating orgasm.

 

Part VI: Her Turn…

 

 

Existential Exhibitionism: Part IV

This was going completely out of her comfort zone and she knew that she was taking a huge risk.  However, knowing and doing are two entirely different concepts and she was definitely going to be “doing” a gorgeous man today!  Many times she had imagined such a risque’ adventure as this and at last she was going to surmount everything that had ever gone before.   Yes, this was going to be raising the ante quite a bit and she did not deny that fact for a moment.  Each time she had tried something adventurous, she would wallow in its glory for a time and then the episode had to be repeated, or she had to find a way to increase the thrill.  She had become the serial killer of sexual conquest and she could not, and would not, stop.

She turned the corner and parked behind the convenience store.  Slipping her panties off and making certain that she was fresh and hot, she prepared to meet her quarry.  How would she take him? She hadn’t thought that far ahead but it didn’t trouble her; she was a connoisseur of hot and horny sex in a variety of places and this was to be no different.  The craziest place she had ever done it was in a vacant house that an attractive and willing real estate fox had taken her to view.  She didn’t care for the home but she enjoyed him.  The thrill of knowing that someone could come through the door at any moment and catch them only added to the excitement.  In the end, she lost herself completely in her sensual ecstasy and couldn’t care less if the Pope himself were standing in the doorway!  Memories, they were sweet and hot.  She was really wet now.

At last, he came walking around the corner.  He looked a little surprised and then a little nervous when he saw her sitting in her car.  Almost wishing that she had blown him off, he walked over to her with trepidation and an embarrassed and goofy smile.

“Isn’t this where I am supposed to ask you if you are a cop?”

She nodded her head and told him to get in.  He quickly looked around and opened the car door.  The red interior of the Cadillac seemed particularly suited for such an encounter and he couldn’t help thinking that he was being really stupid but he couldn’t help himself; it was as though a force beyond himself were compelling him to obey her every word and it was such a turn-on that he felt himself rise and swell in response to her commands. He felt as though he had hit the lottery and his excitement and desire were difficult to control.

As he settled into the seat she reached over and grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers and kissing him deeply, she buried her tongue in his mouth.  They were both breathing heavily and the tension was palpable: she wanted him and he wasn’t going to resist.  She roughly unbuttoned his shirt and inserting her hand she found his nipples and pinched them into hardness.  Then she began to suck on them while unzipping his pants.  His penis announced itself like a “jack-in-the-box” and there was no mistaking his surrender.  Unbuttoning her blouse, she placed his hands on her full breasts and mounted his lap.  Surprise– no panties! he vaguely remembered thinking just before she pounded herself down on his erect and throbbing cock.  Instantly he felt the sensations of hot and slippery wetness and it was all he could do to refrain from cumming that very moment.  He was being broken-in and she rode him like a stallion who was being mounted for the first time.  Reveling in her conquest and sensual pleasure, she capitulated with one orgasm after another as his hardness hammered inside her again and again…

This might have been her first rodeo but it would not be her last, she thought as he relinquished his desire in one final burst.

 

Stay tuned….

 

so you want to be a writer? by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don’t do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your

heart your mind and your mouth

and your gut,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit for hours

staring at your computer screen

or hunched over your

typewriter

searching for words,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it for money or

fame,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it because you want

women in your bed,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit there and

rewrite it again and again,

don’t do it.

if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,

don’t do it.

if you’re trying to write like somebody

else,

forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of

you,

then wait patiently.

if it never does roar out of you,

do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife

or your girlfriend or your boyfriend

or your parents or to anybody at all,

you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,

don’t be like so many thousands of

people who call themselves writers,

don’t be dull and boring and

pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-love.

the libraries of the world have

yawned themselves to

sleep

over your kind.

don’t add to that.

don’t do it.

unless it comes out of

your soul like a rocket,

unless being still would

drive you to madness or

suicide or murder,

don’t do it.

unless the sun inside you is

burning your gut,

don’t do it.

when it is truly time,

and if you have been chosen,

it will do it by

itself and it will keep on doing it

until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

 

 

* this always encourages me when I am feeling as if I don’t have what it takes or that I have nothing original or edifying to share because it often comes “bursting out of me” and “it comes unasked” and it is just like that…DWD

 

 

Morbid Reflections

I heard his voice

And from inside

I felt him.

My senses awakened

and my focus rebelled…

He is approaching and

in spite of myself,

I surrender.

I writhe and struggle

as I battle to retain

what is rightfully mine.

There was a time

when no struggle existed

And I surrendered without

hesitation.

I allowed him to define me

To determine my value

I gave myself to him, without restraint and

I thought that he made me desirable

and sought-after;

I thought that he

enabled me

To be fiery and fierce

And I was…

for a time

Until he moved on

To someone else.

And I was left

to pick-up the pieces

And rebuild myself,

one fragment at a time.

I heard his voice and

then, I felt him…

My senses awakened and

My focus rebelled;

He is approaching

and in spite of myself

I do not surrender.

 

Existential Exhibitionism: Part Trois

The woman presented a polished outside appearance which belied the savage sexuality  that simmered just under her composed surface.  At times, a fearful uncertainty would arise; she had consciously worked to keep the compartmentalization of her two selves distinct and separate and the thought that this carefully constructed delineation would somehow begin to dissolve left her uneasy, but not enough to abandon the hunt.  The camouflage of respectability and decorum would be unceremoniously pushed aside in pursuit of a new game and her intense focus would shift once again; new quarry meant a new challenge and therein would lay some of the thrill.  Amidst her fears, a sense of smug confidence and mischief often created great pleasure in her fantasies of being caught or discovered; never had anyone ever hinted or intimated that they were aware of her secret life but the imagined exposure was very intriguing and occupied many of her thoughts.
This particular night was going to be an experiment.  An experiment in seeking and finding the kind of thrill for which the woman hungered in order to satiate her desires and to validate the sensation of being fully and wholly alive.  When the craving would hit,  animal instincts would rush to the surface like an underwater diver who is starving for oxygen. Once the surface was breached, her instincts would trigger a hyper-awareness to every sight, sound, taste, and smell.  Instantaneously, her pupils would dilate and her blood would begin to pulsate and pound throughout her body.  She was acutely aware that nothing else mattered to her at those moments but the prey that was within her sights and the submission of that prey to her will.   The intensity of this heightened sensory explosion deliciously revealed itself by the increase in temperature and moisture between her legs.  It was nothing short of nuclear and it was fantastic!
Pulling up to the stop light, the woman glanced casually to her left and then to her right.  Traffic was moderately heavy this early evening but she happened to catch a glimpse of something in her peripheral vision and without being consciously aware, her sights zeroed-in on testosterone-saturated prey and he was openly looking at her. The presence of glass and metal presented no barrier for the electric current of lust and desire that was emitted and exchanged.  The game was on and she was in her element!  She allowed the tip of her tongue to linger as she licked her lips and looked boldly into his eyes; he winked and smiled and proceeded to turn as the signal changed and traffic began to move.  Her appetite had been triggered and there was no going home with an empty stomach…as soon as it was possible, she made a quick U-turn and approached his truck at the gas station.  He smiled when he saw her and she knew she would have him.
She got out of her car, being careful to make certain that the top of her thigh-high stockings were revealed under her casually hiked-up skirt.  Never taking her eyes off of him, she felt as though she had super-human vision and could see a light sweat present on his handsome and slightly whiskered face.  He had deeply chiseled features and piercing eyes that gave her the impression that he was already imagining her naked.  His body was muscular and hard and he had the delicious scent of man emanating from his every pore.  She walked boldly up to him and stuck her hand into the top of his pants and grabbing onto his belt she said, “Don’t talk.  Meet me in the back of the building in five and I will give you something that you will never forget…”  He opened his mouth to speak and she gently touched her finger to his lips and at once he was silenced.
To be continued…

WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: