One day soon, I will explain the story behind The Green Room. Oh, my...that will be a long blog post. There is quite a story to tell!
But for now, I am dishing up a sexy excerpt over at Hitting the Hot Spot.
Read the excerpt from The Green Room here.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
I'm craving a kiss...
Today I am craving a kiss.
There is that sweet moment of the first kiss, the much-needed touch of lips and tongue and breath after an absence, whether it be an hour of running errands or weeks of being miles apart. It's a soft and simple touch, a gentle hello and welcome back. It's a remembrance, a moment to bask in that familiar feeling and be grateful to have it again.
Then there is the second kiss, this one deeper, a stronger hello that basks in the familiar yet lets the excitement build. It's the kiss that tells me how the next one is going to go. Does this second kiss taper off with a little nibble and a smile? Does it end with that "just wait a little while longer" feeling that leaves me both satisfied and sweetly unsatisfied, all at once?
Or does it end with a deep breath and a little bit of a tremble, the sign that more is wanted, needed, sought?
At that moment, certain things go through my mind. Where are we -- is the privacy enough? How much time to we have? How quickly can we get out of these clothes? How soon can we get to the bedroom -- or should we even bother? There is the couch, the floor, the table with the lamp that is the perfect height to bend over and brace myself...
There is the wall behind me, the smooth wall that feels hard against my back as he kisses me the third time, his hand cupping my head, his other hand sliding under my shirt, finding the bare skin that he loves to touch, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and his moan filling my throat -- or is that noise coming from me?
By that time we're both so caught up in the moment that the questions of where or how or time disappear, and there is nothing but that sweet and clean taste of him, the scent of my perfume between us, the feel of fresh linen and cotton underneath my hands, the feel of his long, lean body pressing hard against my softer one and the quiet whispers.
I want you so much.
I can't believe you feel so good...
Do you want it here? Or there?
Let's go to the bedroom...
I have missed you so much...
But there are times when the kisses don't stop, where the urgency to get to the bedroom -- or to just sink down to the floor -- is put on hold for a little while, when the kisses become deeper and sweeter and filled with purpose. Our bodies are aching for more, begging for that sweet release we always pull from each other, but oh, those kisses...those kisses leave us breathless and wanting and almost faint with desire.
That kiss turns me to liquid inside, makes my knees weak, makes my chest ache and makes my whole body feel both light and heavy at the same time. It feels like floating, that moment when my arms are around his shoulders and his hands are on my bare back, pulling me close to him, a moment when time stands still. It is uniquely him, the kiss that only he can bestow, and it gives comfort and sparks desire all at the same time.
It's the kiss that feels like coming home.
That is my favorite kiss. That's the kiss I am craving today.
There is that sweet moment of the first kiss, the much-needed touch of lips and tongue and breath after an absence, whether it be an hour of running errands or weeks of being miles apart. It's a soft and simple touch, a gentle hello and welcome back. It's a remembrance, a moment to bask in that familiar feeling and be grateful to have it again.
Then there is the second kiss, this one deeper, a stronger hello that basks in the familiar yet lets the excitement build. It's the kiss that tells me how the next one is going to go. Does this second kiss taper off with a little nibble and a smile? Does it end with that "just wait a little while longer" feeling that leaves me both satisfied and sweetly unsatisfied, all at once?
Or does it end with a deep breath and a little bit of a tremble, the sign that more is wanted, needed, sought?
At that moment, certain things go through my mind. Where are we -- is the privacy enough? How much time to we have? How quickly can we get out of these clothes? How soon can we get to the bedroom -- or should we even bother? There is the couch, the floor, the table with the lamp that is the perfect height to bend over and brace myself...
There is the wall behind me, the smooth wall that feels hard against my back as he kisses me the third time, his hand cupping my head, his other hand sliding under my shirt, finding the bare skin that he loves to touch, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and his moan filling my throat -- or is that noise coming from me?
By that time we're both so caught up in the moment that the questions of where or how or time disappear, and there is nothing but that sweet and clean taste of him, the scent of my perfume between us, the feel of fresh linen and cotton underneath my hands, the feel of his long, lean body pressing hard against my softer one and the quiet whispers.
I want you so much.
I can't believe you feel so good...
Do you want it here? Or there?
Let's go to the bedroom...
I have missed you so much...
But there are times when the kisses don't stop, where the urgency to get to the bedroom -- or to just sink down to the floor -- is put on hold for a little while, when the kisses become deeper and sweeter and filled with purpose. Our bodies are aching for more, begging for that sweet release we always pull from each other, but oh, those kisses...those kisses leave us breathless and wanting and almost faint with desire.
That kiss turns me to liquid inside, makes my knees weak, makes my chest ache and makes my whole body feel both light and heavy at the same time. It feels like floating, that moment when my arms are around his shoulders and his hands are on my bare back, pulling me close to him, a moment when time stands still. It is uniquely him, the kiss that only he can bestow, and it gives comfort and sparks desire all at the same time.
It's the kiss that feels like coming home.
That is my favorite kiss. That's the kiss I am craving today.
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Musings on Swinging
Lately, I've had swinging on my mind.
I've been thinking about what it might be like to explore that somewhat taboo side of sexuality. The older I get, the more open I become about things that would have been out of the question several years ago. Of course, it helps to have a loving partner who is very open-minded and willing to try anything new, as long as such experimentation enhances our relationship. Easing into sexual adventures with "baby steps" makes things like swinging feel much less threatening, too.
There is so much about swinging that seems incredibly hot. There is the sweet exploration of learning about another person, having that "first time" again and again. There is the thrill of not knowing exactly what you're going to get -- a nice friendship that occasionally includes sex, or a sexual romp that doesn't even include real names, or something unique in-between? There is the pleasure of knowing that you are sharing your partner, not because they are stepping out on you, but because you want to share something new and exciting with them -- and with another person, of course.
On the other hand, I have a bit of a possessive streak, and that doesn't exactly bode well with the swinging lifestyle. Swinging is all about sharing, exploring different avenues of sexuality, turning others on while you let them get your juices flowing...but how does that translate for someone who has always been, and forever will be, a one-man kind of woman?
Some days, I get incredibly turned on by the idea of my partner being serviced by another woman. In my mind, she's a virtual stranger, someone we just met, or someone we have known for a while but only in a shadowy kind of way, someone who flits and flirts into our life for an evening here and there, and then she's gone. I sometimes picture her going down on him, and the thought of it is enough to make me breathless. Sometimes I imagine having my own turn with her when they're done, and that gets me ready and raring to go.
Then there is the thought of another couple, taking our turns however we please, a solid evening of "anything goes" that we can walk away from the next morning with sweet, delicious aches and secret smiles. Every possible scenario has wandered through my head, and all of them are fantastic.
But other days that possessive streak kicks in good and hard, and the thought of sharing my partner with anyone else -- or being with anyone else myself, for that matter -- is enough to put me in a surprisingly foul mood. Don't mess with the sweetness of the way things are, that little voice in the back of my head tells me. Don't mess with what's already beyond good.
And then my thoughts swing back to the naughty. Back and forth, back and forth...is it okay, even normal, to have thoughts that swing back and forth when it comes to swinging?
I read on a swinging message board that one should not feel morally compromised by the act of swinging. On the other hand, another poster pointed out that that feeling of "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't be doing this" added to the sheer pleasure of playing with others. Obviously, swinging should always fit into the context of a good relationship and enhance it. It should never be something that brings a dark, questionable or brooding atmosphere into the bedroom.
Perhaps it is a matter of finding a nice balance between the sharing and the possessiveness. There are many people out there who can find that balance and make it work.
Am I one of those people? I keep swinging back and forth about the idea. How about you?
I've been thinking about what it might be like to explore that somewhat taboo side of sexuality. The older I get, the more open I become about things that would have been out of the question several years ago. Of course, it helps to have a loving partner who is very open-minded and willing to try anything new, as long as such experimentation enhances our relationship. Easing into sexual adventures with "baby steps" makes things like swinging feel much less threatening, too.
There is so much about swinging that seems incredibly hot. There is the sweet exploration of learning about another person, having that "first time" again and again. There is the thrill of not knowing exactly what you're going to get -- a nice friendship that occasionally includes sex, or a sexual romp that doesn't even include real names, or something unique in-between? There is the pleasure of knowing that you are sharing your partner, not because they are stepping out on you, but because you want to share something new and exciting with them -- and with another person, of course.On the other hand, I have a bit of a possessive streak, and that doesn't exactly bode well with the swinging lifestyle. Swinging is all about sharing, exploring different avenues of sexuality, turning others on while you let them get your juices flowing...but how does that translate for someone who has always been, and forever will be, a one-man kind of woman?
Some days, I get incredibly turned on by the idea of my partner being serviced by another woman. In my mind, she's a virtual stranger, someone we just met, or someone we have known for a while but only in a shadowy kind of way, someone who flits and flirts into our life for an evening here and there, and then she's gone. I sometimes picture her going down on him, and the thought of it is enough to make me breathless. Sometimes I imagine having my own turn with her when they're done, and that gets me ready and raring to go.
Then there is the thought of another couple, taking our turns however we please, a solid evening of "anything goes" that we can walk away from the next morning with sweet, delicious aches and secret smiles. Every possible scenario has wandered through my head, and all of them are fantastic.
But other days that possessive streak kicks in good and hard, and the thought of sharing my partner with anyone else -- or being with anyone else myself, for that matter -- is enough to put me in a surprisingly foul mood. Don't mess with the sweetness of the way things are, that little voice in the back of my head tells me. Don't mess with what's already beyond good.
And then my thoughts swing back to the naughty. Back and forth, back and forth...is it okay, even normal, to have thoughts that swing back and forth when it comes to swinging?
I read on a swinging message board that one should not feel morally compromised by the act of swinging. On the other hand, another poster pointed out that that feeling of "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't be doing this" added to the sheer pleasure of playing with others. Obviously, swinging should always fit into the context of a good relationship and enhance it. It should never be something that brings a dark, questionable or brooding atmosphere into the bedroom.
Perhaps it is a matter of finding a nice balance between the sharing and the possessiveness. There are many people out there who can find that balance and make it work.
Am I one of those people? I keep swinging back and forth about the idea. How about you?
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