Fact...Or Fiction

I've been a naughty blogger. Unfortunately, not the kind of naughty you've come to expect from The Naughty One. What can I say? Life becomes crazy and hectic...okay so it always was those two things but...even more so around the holidays. There are parties to attend, presents to buy, cards to mail out, and the list goes on and on. Anyway, I figured it was time to blow the dust off this little piece of blog space. So, a little fact...or maybe fiction. I'm not telling which.

A final kiss under the mistletoe for the benefit of those gathered around and we were out the door. As we walked to his car, I easily slipped back into a time when his hand at the small of my back had felt right and comfortable. Once inside the car, he reached over and placed his warm hand on my thigh and thanked me for joining him tonight for the party. I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear as I turned to admire the twinkle lights decorating the affluent neighborhood. Though I didn't draw attention to his hand on my thigh, I was never unaware. The silence in the car was surprisingly comfortable and I felt myself begin to relax into the leather comfort of the seat.

As the car gained speed on the highway, his fingers began to flex against my skirt. His fingers inched the soft material up until my knee and thigh were exposed. I drew a deep breath all the while wondering just how far I would let this go. Apparently, my mind was made up as I voiced no objection when he began to travel south toward his home rather than north toward mine. Pushing all thoughts of the consequences out of my mind, I fully gave into “for old time's sake” and opened my thighs wider as his hand slipped down the inside of my thigh.

The familiar pressure of his fingers squeezing the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh caused a throb to begin low. I could feel the moisture gathering at the apex and knew my breathing had picked up. His pinkie finger moved against the cotton of my panties. The touch wasn't fully intimate, more just a tease. And tease it did...my own touch hadn't been as satisfying as of late and I longed for someone else, but the pressure and warmth of his finger felt hypnotizing.

The drive was nothing more than silence and the ever steady brush of his finger against my panties. When we pulled into his drive, I sighed. I looked at him and he leaned toward me. Finally his hand left my thigh as he placed it against my neck and pulled. Our mouths met and the kiss was deep. His tongue stroked in a familiar pattern and I grazed his lips with my teeth as he'd always enjoyed. We pulled apart to ragged breathing and arousal surrounded us.

His pants pulled tight across his crotch and my fingers itched to touch and get reacquainted with his cock. I could picture his cock and how the foreskin would start to slip back exposing the tip. My breasts felt heavy inside of my bra and my nipples had hardened into tight peaks. His hands moved down my cheek, across my throat, and cupped my breasts. I was reaching for his pants when our foreheads met. He breathed against my lips and said, “We haven't changed.”

As quickly as the flame was fanned, it cooled. The breath I held began to burn and I turned back around in my seat and exhaled. A small smile curved my lips, but the humor was gone. I knew he'd meant that the passion that had always seemed to simmer just below the surface was still there. While he hadn't been my first lover, he'd been my first of many enjoyable and pleasurable experiences. It seemed natural that my body would respond to his touch.

Unfortunately, my mind responded as well. History is a funny thing to have with someone. You know it all...good and bad. I remembered incredible pleasure, but I was acutely aware of the pain as well. I knew that when things had turned ugly we'd each gone to great lengths to devastate the other. I looked at him and shook my head. Sex had never been our problem, but it was all the other trappings that came when the passions were cooled. Three whispered words ended our night. “Yes, we have.”

Say My Name

I should start by saying that, at least for me, having him say my name during the act is so freaking hot. No matter where we are in the process, if he growls, moans, gasps my name I am so there...at the brink...ready to fly apart. I can't explain why it turns me on so, but it does. Of course, I don't always return the favor of growling, moaning, gasping his name and perhaps I should. Maybe it has the same effect on him? Either way...he said it this morning and in very quick secession I was thrashing about on the sheets.

Of course the plying of my wet, warm pussy didn't hurt. Neither did the finger inside stroking that sweet little spot that makes it hard to stay still and endure the touch. Or hearing him tell me explicitly what he wanted to make me do in his mouth. Not even the cramp I got from curling my toes into the sheet felt bad.

Ahh, yes...dirty talking and orgasms...the perfect way to start the day!

Sleep With Me

It is sort of a work in progress. There will be more progress later today...

I wake to the dipping of the mattress and shifting of the covers as you slip into the bed. A sigh escapes as the warmth from your body begins to spread across my bare back. Pressing my hips back, I settle against you.

“I didn't mean to wake you.”

Without answering, I reach for the arm you are tucking around me and twine our fingers together. A soft tilt of my head exposes the column of my neck and the gentle slope of my shoulder to you. Your mouth immediately presses against my skin.

My eyes flutter open and I try in vain to control the shudder that races over my skin as the sharp stubble from your chin tickles the delicate flesh. Your tongue darts out to soothe and it begins a slow trek. Without even having to utter a word, you begin to lick your way to the one spot sure to send my pulse pounding. In response, a warm damp heat curls low in my core.

HNT...Something For Us Both

For a while now I've been suggesting to DF that he write something for the blog. And for a while now he's been suggesting to me that I wear a thong. So, somewhere in the middle of all that, we've found some common ground. I'm wearing a thong and he's writing about it.

Hi Y'all!

After promising many times over and over that I would blog and failing to get the job done, here I am! I have promised Naughty Girl that I would say a few words and I finally found something I wanted to do. If you are like me, you love Thursdays as HNT.



I want to thank her personally for doing this for me. Finding her in a thong is something that you will rarely, if ever, see. She simply doesn't care to wear one. However, it's amazing sometimes how you get what you ask for when you ask politely. After some prodding, I found this one emailed to me to make me drool. She looks wonderful to me in it. Although I'm not sure she gets it, I'm glad I'm so visual. I really do mean it when I say I think she looks hot in it!

You are welcome babe. Df

Creative Outlet

A dear friend was looking for a creative outlet and shared the following story with me. I loved it! My friend has such a way of making a story sensual without making it vulgar. I'm so oral so one particular spot captured my attention. I'm sure it will capture something of yours as well!

Climbing through the bushes he knew the niche would be the perfect place, he even loosened the bulb of the security light when she wasn’t home. He was cloaked in foliage and darkness. From this vantage point he could see through the flimsy curtains straight to her bed. He felt himself stiffen already as he unzipped his jeans. It didn’t take long for him to wrap his fingers around his sensitive, growing flesh.

She came out of her bathroom in a towel. Removing it she reached for a bottle on her nightstand and rubbed her skin with the oil from it. He watched slowly stroking himself, he wanted to wait, not go too fast, hoping he would see more. As she rubbed her thighs he could see she enjoyed her own touch, but imaged himself rubbing the moisturizer into the soft flesh and kissing her along the line of her hair. Gently arousing her. He could tell she was getting aroused now and his body reacted.

Putting the bottle down, she turned and bent over searching in a drawer. His mind raced seeing her full ass, thinking she wanted him, needed him. He imagined walking up behind her and sliding inside. Would she react with a startled response? Does she want to be fully taken? He had to stop touching himself for a second afraid it would be over too soon.

He watched as she turned with a pink phallic toy in her hand. He could tell the vibrator was one of her favorites, she moved to the bed, on her back, and rubbed it the length of her body. She would stop to excite her nipples, to rub it over her stomach and her thighs, and move it around the soft petals of flesh between her legs. She teased herself and he matched her teasing, sensing if he continued to keep his own rhythm he would soon cum.

Bringing the toy to her mouth she sucked it in, slowly, wetting it and caressing it with her lips, while opening her legs wide. He could only think of her lips around his flesh and his own mouth and fingers exploring the display in front of him. He closed his eyes for one second and when he opened them he watched the pink of the toy disappear into the pink of her body. She was ready for what she wanted and he was too. Her hand moved fast, driving the vibrator in and out, her back arching and her teeth biting her lips. His hand moved fast and now there was no turning back, he would surrender to his need and as she bounced on the bed thrusting deep into herself he felt the violent quiver go through him and he exploded, holding himself up with one hand as the other aimed the spray down hitting the brick of her foundation. He collected himself in time to see her relax on the bed. They had shared the moment of ecstasy. They both stayed still and he saw her rise and come to the window. Opening it she popped her head out and looked down.

“You going to hose that down?” she said smiling seeing the evidence of his fun slowly dripping to the grass below.

“It will rain later”, he replied.

“Well put that away”, motioning to his softening erection, still oozing, “and come inside, maybe we can bring it back to life”. She closed the window and walked away. He tucked himself in and didn’t both to snap and zip up. He knew his pants would not be on for very long.

HNT...Landscaping

***Update at 8:30pm...the after picture is now viewable.***

As I've mentioned before, I'm not a huge fan of personal grooming. I usually clear it all off and then keep it neat until I feel it is time to clear again. Well, last weekend I felt the need to clear.

But you have to admit that just those curls...I think it looks pretty feminine. Anyway, I've tamed the bush and now I'm just smooth as silk. I like that feeling, but oh the upkeep. I've done good so far about maintaining, but I'm starting to feel lazy. Looks like curls might be in my future!

Marilyn

I love questionnaire type things so when I saw it over at Rae's I just had to steal. It was the shortest quiz and the personality traits are surprisingly accurate on a lot of points. I will point out which ones are dead on and which ones are sort of...off.

In other news, I did a little photo shoot this weekend and some "landscaping". Of course I took pictures because what else should a naughty girl do...well except post one or two (hint hint for the clicky click) on Thursday.

And now for some fluff...

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are a Marilyn!

You are a Marilyn -- "I am affectionate and skeptical."

Marilyns are responsible, trustworthy, and value loyalty to family, friends, groups, and causes. Their personalities range broadly from reserved and timid to outspoken and confrontative. (Oh yeah...I have a wide range of emotions and stay in touch with each and every one of them on a fairly regularly basis.)

How to Get Along with Me

• * Be direct and clear (Absolutely! I want to know where I stand and I'm a total flop at mind reading so please...be direct!)
• * Listen to me carefully
• * Don't judge me for my anxiety
• * Work things through with me
• * Reassure me that everything is OK between us (Again...I need to know we're in a good place.)
• * Laugh and make jokes with me
• * Gently push me toward new experiences
• * Try not to overreact to my overreacting. (Out of this whole thing, this is probably the most important statement to remember...gosh I do a lot of overreacting. I'm trying to be better, but darn is it hard sometimes...)

What I Like About Being a Marilyn

• * being committed and faithful to family and friends (I value someone who sticks with me through the good stuff and the huge stinky piles of crap that sometimes come along with being in a relationship.)
• * being responsible and hardworking
• * being compassionate toward others
• * having intellect and wit
• * being a nonconformist
• * confronting danger bravely
• * being direct and assertive

What's Hard About Being a Marilyn

• * the constant push and pull involved in trying to make up my mind (Sometimes people get put out with me because I like to ask every one's opinion about things before I make up my own mind. Actually, the truth is I've made up my mind, but sort of want reassurance that I'm not the only one feeling that way.)
• * procrastinating because of fear of failure; having little confidence in myself
• * fearing being abandoned or taken advantage of (How true...I always say my worst fear is being left...physically and emotionally. I'm not sure where that fear comes from but oh dear is it a battle I fight more than I want to.)
• * exhausting myself by worrying and scanning for danger
• * wishing I had a rule book at work so I could do everything right
• * being too critical of myself when I haven't lived up to my expectations

Marilyns as Children Often

• * are friendly, likable, and dependable, and/or sarcastic, bossy, and stubborn (Yeah, I was a blend of all that...more so that bossy and stubborn part.)
• * are anxious and hypervigilant; anticipate danger
• * form a team of "us against them" with a best friend or parent
• * look to groups or authorities to protect them and/or question authority and rebel
• * are neglected or abused, come from unpredictable or alcoholic families, and/or take on the fearfulness of an overly anxious parent (The part that is absolutely NOT true...I was NEVER neglected or abused, nor do I come from a home with anxious alcoholic family members. So off...)

Marilyns as Parents

• * are often loving, nurturing, and have a strong sense of duty (I will need a partner parent that can be all of the above but that can be the disciplinarian too.)
• * are sometimes reluctant to give their children independence
• * worry more than most that their children will get hurt
• * sometimes have trouble saying no and setting boundaries

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at

Kind of neat to find out a little bit more about me, huh? Well, I thought so!