He poured her another glass of wine and placed the bottle back into the ice bucket. They were relaxed, sitting back on the small sofa in the bedroom. His fingers circled the back of her neck as they enjoyed the glow of the wine and winding down of the day.
Reaching down, he picked up a discrete black box. He laid it in her lap, gesturing her to open the lid. Inside lay a glass dildo, sparkling in the soft light. Attached to the end were fronds of sumptuous suede for gently flogging her pink skin. She looked at him with wide eyes, expectant with a hint of naughtiness. He removed the toy from its box and slid the glass end into the ice bucket.
If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?
In my head, fantasies and frolics jostle for space amongst the mundane thinking required for daily life. My fantasies fight with one another to get my attention and then prick at physical sensations, reminding me that they could be real if I allowed them to be.
I love to know what other people think about, its a big thing for me. I want to know what he is thinking when we’re making love – even if he’s not thinking of me. I want to know what is in your head whilst you watch, or read my words. I wonder, are you the same as me?
I want to feed my own thoughts, allowing them to trickle between the gaps of my consciousness, stored for another time or to melt into the here and now. Maybe it’s just something for me to write about further, or act out if I get the chance. The mind is a powerful thing. It needs feeding – so tell me.
Teaser and the Teased – with thanks to Liverpoolmunky76
I wake slowly to the warm rumble against my skin
Vibrating silicone excites surgical steel and velvet nipples
Travelling south, tantalising, soft curves tremble
Gently parting, nudging towards sweet release
Pinned down whilst bursting free
Rush to wash, dress, make a dash
Flushed red cheeks in the cold morning air sting, giving away my wakeup call.
© All rights reserved. CLR at theitchthatneeds.wordpress.com 2016
She stood beside the car. Her hand trembled as she opened the boot and reached for her overnight bag. She felt a mix of confused emotions jostling for space between anxiety and exhilaration.
An email notification flashed on her screen, diverting her attention from the documentation she was working on. Just as the alert slid out of view, her brain processed the subject line. She sensed a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She tried hard not to think too much about that morning. It had been some weeks since it happened. Her face flushed.
Sometimes I think of you and wonder if it were ever true.
Sometimes I fool myself that you cared more than just the fuck I was. Continue reading
Recently I’ve joined the “Fuck It Club”. I’ve spent far too long trying to fit in, to be what others want. It’s great therapy. Fuck everyone. Fuck it, I’m just doing it.
I’ve fantasised about pierced nipples for a long time. And finally I got them done.