can i touch you?

would you mind, terribly, if i took my hand and slid it under the waistband of your pants (or skirt), let my fingers feel their way down your belly to the soft dense hair (or shaven smoothness) of your pubes, where something warm and wonderful could start to swell with excitement?

would it be too much to ask, for my lips to find the soft side of your throat, just below the jaw, and slowly nibble their way up to an earlobe -- or lower, to the hollow between your collarbones, and then lower still, across your pecs (or breasts) to kiss at the sensitive rings of your nipples?

would i be crossing a line, to strongly and surely undo whatever buckle or button or clasp would let me pull loose the clothing from your lower half so that i could kneel before you and take a deep breath with my nose just touching the treasure between your legs?

would i cause offense, if i eased myself to the floor, lay there upon my back, and asked you to lower that treasure to my lips? would it be the worst kind of presumption for me to say, "please bring that crotch down here right now and fuck my mouth until you come?"

because i wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.

if you didn't want that.

; )

hair by sex

i asked my special guy what he thought i ought to do with my hair. he of course said some of those things guys are required to say like, "anything you do will look perfect, honey," and "it's hard for me to imagine you with different hair because you're so amazing the way it is now" when what they really mean is, "oh, god, i don't know shit about women's hair, why are you asking me?"

only, because i'm stubborn, i didn't have the good grace to just smile and take the compliments (although i always do take them!). instead i said, "really, honestly, what kind of hair would you dream about seeing on me?"

msg got this expression on his face that was like, are you daring me to tell you the real truth? do you really want to know?

and of course, i said, "really. i want to know."

"okay," he said. "well then what i think you ought to do to make your hair perfect is for us to get down on the floor and fuck for like, an hour."

"um," i said, "that sounds good and all, only i kind of think that you are going to get more out of it than my hair is."

he shook his head. "i'm serious. you want to know when i think your hair looks best? it's when we're both panting and exhausted right after we come, and we're as close together as we ever get, and your hair is kind of mussed up and spread out and wild, with maybe one little loop of it all dark with sweat and curled across your forehead or your cheek. that's when i like your hair best -- when the two of us are completely worn out and still from sex, not able to do anything except breath, but your hair spreads out like it's still holding all the movement and passion that we just used to make love."

well of course that gave me that dry throat and belly fire that makes it a little hard to keep a conversation on topic, but i still tried to pretend, even as i moved closer to him and my voice dropped a little, saying, "don't you think that maybe that's not the best look for going out in public, though?"

he raised one eyebrow. "now you're adding conditions. who said anything about going out in public?"

i sighed and said, "not me, i suppose."

and we proceeded to do my hair.

beachy

am i the only one who finds the smell of sunscreen to be super sexy?

let's all be honest and admit it. everybody wishes they could have at least one awesome fuck on the beach.

there it is, the ocean, miles and miles of it in both directions.

coming in.

going out.

coming in.

going out.

salty spray everywhere.

white foam rushing.

hot.

wet.

okay, there are some drawbacks, like seagull poop and sand.

but thanks to photoshop, at least some of us can have our seaside schlonging without getting grit all up our cracks!