a moving feast
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Posted:Jun 17, 2009 8:44 am
Last Updated:Jun 27, 2009 3:43 pm
2415 Views
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Brushing her shoulder length blonde hair, her gaze unfocused, as she let her mind wander over the plan for the day, lass was as usual totally oblivious to her appearance. Cazzie was crazy, and a lot of fun , so lass was really looking forward to the party, but she had never met Thianna, Cazzie’s friend. They had spoken, on line and in emails but had never actually met. Lass would never admit it, but she was an inveterate planner. The barbecue, the menu, the wines, the cheeses, the appetizers and the desserts, all had been the objects of her careful attention. The back lawn looked almost manicured. The were with her sister, across town. Still her mind refused to let go.
Looking into her closet, dressed in only her smallest bikini panties with the small koala at the shadow of her carefully trimmed bush, lass studied her wardrobe. Sexy casual is always tricky. Tight is good, and eye-catching, but sometimes a little awkward to get out of. Thinking this, brought T to mind and the smile on her face was definitely not innocent. The short, flared jean skirt she pulled out was a favorite of his, both for the way it fit and for the ease of access. Lass didn’t get that the real reason was how perfect she looked in it, though He had told her often enough. She frowned at the shirts and tops.
Cazzie was cute and so flagrantly sexy, lass always felt like a mid-schooler around her. Looking down at her small breasts, she shrugged and took down the middie shirt that He liked. Sandals and a ribbon in her hair completed the outfit. The makeup didn’t take long. She looked at herself and tried to see how He might see her. The door bell roused her.
Cazzie wore khaki shorts that molded to her lovely round bottom and left little to the imagination. Her beautiful big breasts were barely contained in a peasant blouse that did little to hide the sheer and over-worked bra that did more to serve the breasts then to conceal them. Her long dark brown hair was woven into a loose braid that hung down between her shoulder blades. Her brown eyes seemed to laugh all of the time. Hugging her hello, lass felt like an awkward teenage boy, next to her fulsome friend. Then she caught sight of Thianna behind her. Damn.
Thianna was smaller but her breasts were huge… well… actually they were probably not bigger than Cazzie’s but on her shorter frame, they somehow became all one noticed; which was silly since the rest of her was definitely worth noticing, blonde hair, blue eyes, a laugh that would make anyone smile, and those breasts.. Did I mention her breasts?
Thianna hugged lass and for a moment lass wondered if He would be disappointed in her small breasts being around such mammarian marvels.
Cazzie would have laughed out loud if she knew what lass was thinking. Most of lass’s friends would have shaken their heads and smiled. She never seemed to understand. Her small, perfectly shaped breasts were in such perfect proportion to her slender frame that they could not have been more perfect. T knew this, and had tried to explain it to her but lass was convinced this was a pat on the head for the poor girl. Silly lass.
The three women went out to the patio and lass poured them each a glass of fresh sangria, her own recipe of course. They chatted and got comfortable, and soon the others began to arrive. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but lass was worried that though there were flirtatious moments and sexy banter, no one seemed to be interested in taking it to the next level. Even T , laid back and supportive as ever, seemed content with the easy pace of the afternoon.
Then the clouds gathered. Lass glared at the sky. Not fair. Somehow moving a barbecue indoors always seemed to make it too formal. Just what she needed. When the first fat drops of rain started she got up to grab the food.
“Hey, girl. Leave it. A little rain won’t hurt.”
“Cazzie, it’ll all get wet.”
“So? I think wet can be fun.” Her look and her laugh gave it the obvious double meaning. The man she was talking with laughed . She gave him her best sultry look.
“Of course, I would like to keep this blouse dry…” Cazzie pulled the peasant blouse off and handed it to lass . Lass took her friend’s blouse over under the canopy. The wolf whistles that followed made her smile.
Thianna yelled “Oy. No fair. Me too.” and pulled off the snug tee shirt that caressed her lovely breasts. She threw it at lass, who hung it next to Cazzie’s . Lass looked over at T. Was he wishing she had more to show? Did he hunger for the full bounty of her beautiful friends?
Cazzie’s sheer bra flew through the air, and landed somewhere near the blouse. Lass started to go to it to hang it up, but T pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her, his hands caressing her flat, warm tummy and possessively lingering there. She watched as Cazzie stretched out on the chaise, and pouting to her friend said. “It is soo hard to take off tight shorts without looking silly…. Unless someone helps….”
Being male, and not too dumb, he got the hint. His nervous fingers, fumbled with her snap and zipper, but once he got started he was a true man of action. The shorts were soon lying next to the bra. The sheer thong was more of a tease than a garment. Thianna stepped out of her short skirt. She hadn’t bothered with panties so found herself wearing only boat shoes, which quickly flipped through the air, to land far from the small but growing pile of clothes.
The men got the hint and began doffing their duds. The two other women laughed but followed suit. T unhooked lass’ skirt and she felt it slide down her legs to puddle at her feet. She wanted to pick it up and fold it, but she knew T would swat her ass if she did, so she kicked it onto the discard pile. T hugged her. Cazzie and her guy were lying pressed together, exploring each other and savoring the sensation even as the rain fell on their exposed skin. Thianna had two men paying homage to her lovely breasts, and though she leaned back with her lovely eyes closed and that smile on her face, her hands were busy on either side and her legs were spread wide, proving she was a natural blonde. Lass couldn’t believe how quickly the party had changed tone. Caressing hands and tongues were everywhere. She smiled.
As Cazzie and her friend got more excited, Cazzie sat up and ‘arranged’ him on the lounge to her liking, then reaching between her lovely thighs she guided him into her wet opening, and plunged herself down the length of him with a satisfied smile. Now, with a wink at lass, she beckoned over one of the few men who didn’t have his hands full. Taking his cock in hand she poured some sangria in her mouth then took him into the cool syrupy softness and stroked him slowly and deeply. His face registered his pleasure. Thianna laughed and called “ You go, girl.”
Not to be out-done, the shorter woman laid down on an inflated raft and drew one of her lovers between her legs, where he caressed her wetness and licked his fingers then buried his hard cock in her hungry cunt. The other man was playing with her breasts, so she had him straddle her waist, and pressing her breasts together she trapped his happy cock and he moved it back and forth in the rain slick valley she offered as each time the head came forward she licked the purple prominence and he moaned with a pleasure that was as novel as it was sensual.
Lass felt T’s hand leave her belly for a moment but as he kicked his jeans away she smiled as he pressed his hard cock between her legs, his hand moving down to probe under her koala panties and she writhed in his arms. Her panties slid down and were forgotten on the patio deck. Around them, everyone was coupling and caressing, and no one seemed to even notice as T entered her from behind and she melted back against him feeling full and fulfilled and for that moment not worrying about anything but themselves.
T’s hand moved up to caress her breasts, his fingers expertly teasing her sensitive nipples and making them stand out proudly, she loved how He made her feel. As he pulled her shirt over her hair, lass didn’t even think about the size of her breasts. Only about the pleasure He seemed to find in her and her own in Him.
One of Cazzie’s lovers was pulling on her braid as she took him in her mouth. One of the other women, her lover sated for the moment had drawn closer to watch Thianna’s love play. Just then, the man between her breasts gave a groan and began shooting his load. Thianna rubbed her lips and face all around the head as it spilled its cream. Then reaching up she pulled the other woman closer and their lips met and the women licked the man’s cum from Thianna’s lovely face, as her hands caressed the lovely globes that had so sweetly milked the nectar. The sight of the two women so engaged was too much for the man who quickly filled her cunt with his cum.
“Cazzie… I am too close…..” called Thianna. Without breaking her rhythm, Cazzie reached a foot over and expertly slid her big toe between Thianna’s delightfully spread thighs… her digit readily finding her friends clit and teasing her into a writhing passion that plunged over into a full orgasm as the toes prodded deeper, and the woman at her breasts bit down on the sweet nipple that stood out from the lovely breast., even as Thianna buried her own finger in the woman’s spasming quim.
As lass slowly recovered from her own orgasm she smiled to see the post coital languor of her friends.
As the rain slowed and the sun grew a bit brighter, Thianna’s hand held up a bottle of rum, from her cushion and everyone laughed as she asked, “Who’s ready for round two?”
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reining Leah... or a Silky One...g
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Posted:Jun 17, 2009 6:19 am
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2024 6:26 am
1601 Views
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Reining Leah Jun 3, 2009 1:23 pm
10 Views
Leah had bathed and washed her long blonde hair as Mark had asked. She had been surprised at how obedient to his every wish she had become over the past few months of their relationship. She had never seen herself as subservient, but she had to admit there was a certain thrill to the smile on his face when she did something to please him, especially if it was something he knew was outside of her comfort zone.
Leah remembered the first time he ‘made’ her service him in public….. She liked making him come with her lips and hands. She had quickly learned how to make him swell quickly in her hands and in her lips , when to caress his sac, and when to cup his balls. She enjoyed the thrill of his strong thighs as they clenched under her hands as he thrust into her face, filling her with his need. Doing it on the glassed in elevator at seven o’clock at night with the streets filled with shoppers was as frightening and as exciting as she had ever known.
Tonight he had promised was to be special.
Sitting at the vanity, she watched as Mark covered the mirror. Obediently, she closed her eyes. His strong hands began braiding her hair into a long tight braid down her back. She knew he liked it like that and often used the braid to control her head as they made love.
The makeup brush was new. It felt bigger than the one she used. She quickly lost track of what he was doing. He had deliberately alternated his movements and his tools. She could only hope she did not look like Slappy the clown.
He stood behind her, appreciating his handiwork, she knew she had to wait. She felt him move, then a thin loop of what felt like leather encircled her breasts, then was tied behind her. Standing her, he gave her a leather g-string to pull on, supporting her so she would not fall with her eyes still tightly closed: when she sat back down, she felt as though she wore no panties at all.
The leather boots he laced onto her calves felt odd, but not uncomfortable. She wondered what he planned for the evening. She wished she could open her eyes and see his face. Was he happy? Did she please him?
The tiny leather skirt he pulled up her long legs was almost a tease as it barely covered the bottom curve of her shapely ass. Thank the goddess for pilates.
Walking her into the living room, Mark let her open her eyes. His face was flushed and his smile was broad and excited. Leah almost died when the doorbell rang.
Leaving her there in the middle of the room, with a look that commanded her to stay, Mark walked to the door, and, after peering through the ‘eye’, opened it.
Leah did not know the man or the woman who entered, nor the couple who hurried behind them. Both men were casually dressed, and both women wore light long coats and boots no unlike her own. There were no introductions: Mark didn’t seem to need them, and the others didn’t seem interested.
Leah could feel her face flushing and she had to wonder what she looked like to these beautiful strangers.
The first man, whose name she would later learn was Sol, took his woman’s coat off and casually threw it on a chair. Leah almost automatically crossed to hang it up, ‘til she saw the look on Mark’s face.
Beneath her coat the brunette wore a leather corset, with cut out breast cups and an impossibly slender waist. She stood waiting , while Sol attached the bridle to her face, a leather device with a gag-ball in her mouth and a headpiece complete with two dark ears that looked the same color as her own brunette hair. The reins draped over her shoulders and Sol easily grasped them in one hand and led her about the room.
The second man, whose name Leah would learn was Ram, though never whether that was a real name, took off his woman’s coat, to reveal a similar outfit, and Leah watched as he fit her bridle, this one with what looked like a small penis in the bit, to her lovely face.
Mark crossed to her and turned her so the others could see her back. She knew the high heeled boots made her ass tight, and she was glad, even as she shivered with the conflict of pride and embarrassment. He took up the leather thongs that hung down her back and she realized that they led from the breast binding, and that Mark had woven them into her braid. She felt both thrilled and afraid as she realized the amount of control he now had.
Leah watched as Sol put thick mittens on his woman’s hands, looking like very real hooves. Shiny, black, and not very useful for eating, or drinking. Leah felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. The men partook of the food and drink that was laid out. Sol tipped his woman’s head back and poured some wine down her throat. Leah was impressed with how easily the woman managed this in her state. Ram’s woman was not as neat and earned a slap of the riding crop across her lovely ass.
As Ram turned her to administer this punishment, Leah almost gasped at the tail, the same auburn color as the woman’s hair, that stuck out proudly from the woman’s ass. She wondered how big the handle of that tail was and how had they made it stand up so proudly. Sol, seeing her gaze, turned his woman so that her tail, even taller, thicker, heavier stuck up. She managed to wiggle the tail without wiggling her ass. Leah was impressed.
The slap of the crop on either cheek, startled Leah, as did the red welt that quickly grew, but Ram then caressed the woman’s face and neck, fondly.
There were games of control, and of ‘show’ with both ‘ponies’ vying for place of honor. Clearly Sol’s woman had been at this longer. Leah was so intrigued and excited that her own near nakedness and appearance seemed to fade from her awareness.
Mark went to the bedroom and brought out a lovely bridle and a thick hard golden brown cock with a blonde plumed tail rising from its base. He set these on the living room table. The other women smiled.
Leah looked with such fear that she thought her heart would stop, but she also knew that she must do this.
Crossing to Mark, Leah lowered her head as much as her binding would allow.
Slowly, he affixed the bridle to her mouth, the bite piece he had chosen was a tongue, though to her it looked very feminine.
Sol’s woman stroked her foot like a counting . Sol looked at her.
“You wish to assist?”
Her head bobbed as she looked at the tail.
“Perhaps with some moisturizing?’
Her head bobbed more excitedly. Sol nodded. Crossing to Mark , she presented her vagina, through the sheer opening of her cut away panties. Mark took the penis tail and slowly inserted it into the woman’s wet vagina. He stroked deeply and with a sound not unlike a whinny , the woman convulsed about the thick handle and lubricated it well with her juices.
Mark looked to Ram, who nodded and his woman came forward to share her wetness. Leah felt the heat of the moment flow through her. Turning, she bent from the waist, raising her lovely ass to Mark, and his friends. Mark placed the head of the tail at the brown ring, and pushed. Slowly it slid in, filling her and stretching her, and Leah gasped and felt her own orgasm threatening to shatter her, as Mark thrust it deep inside her. Then, she rose, slowly, the tail deep inside of her and with a pride that she would never have admitted to , Leah let Mark walk her about the room to the applause and foot strikes of their company.
And the night had just begun……..
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reflection
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Posted:May 31, 2009 7:06 pm
Last Updated:Jun 30, 2009 4:21 am
2178 Views
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The perspiration beaded on her neck, she felt it gathering, and then tracing its warm path down her chest to fall between her breasts. The blindfold seemed to make her skin more sensitive. The ropes binding her arms behind her stretched her soft skin ‘til it was taut as a drum-head. Was He even still there? Had he left her?
She knew that there was no way to know until he let her know. He could be sitting in the living room watching NCIS rr-runs. Holding her breath, she listened with all of her awareness, but she knew it was futile: He had never given away his presence unless he wanted to.
The cord from her hands to her bound legs, drawn up close to her shapely buttocks was thick with almost no give. She felt the strain in her thighs, remembering his hands there, stroking, touching…. His fingers possessing her, entering her, staking their claim. She felt his hand opening within her, and filling her.
Trying to relax, curled against the gathered pillows, knowing her naked body was displayed to His pleasure.
Did He see the hard nipples rising from her breasts, the rope bonds encircling the orbs of her breasts and presenting them to His satisfaction.
She realized that she had become wetter again, she moaned softly into the gag. He controlled her so fully that even when she had no way of knowing if He was here, she was possessed by Him.
Then she felt His nearness. Silently, his hand caressed her neck, His fingers grasped the hair at the nape of her lovely neck, pulling tightly, a small pain that focused her center, as His lips bit into her nipple and His other hand reached between her legs to probe her wetness.
She heard Him chuckle.
“Little horny one. How wet you are.” His hand easily enters her ; now four fingers, now five, the hand probes deeper, as she writhes within the limited movement He allows. Her head pulled back, every part of her strained as the center of her being is filled with Him.
Suddenly, she feels her body trembling with her orgasm as he strokes her and worries her nipples with his teeth . “Now! Little one, Now!”
She may have passed out… she becomes aware of her arms, un-bound, lying on her thighs as she lies within his arms, the tears on her cheeks are drying as she feels His hands caressing her.
Time and place are but meaningless shadows of a world she is in no hurry to rejoin..
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Salud
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Posted:May 29, 2009 9:37 pm
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2024 6:26 am
1307 Views
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There are songs that haunt the human mind
And play their notes through moments grey
Like battlefield hymns and dirges solemn
Tho the sound may fade it cannot fade away…
There are tastes which linger when the feast is done
Caressing the palate with ephemeral trace
That warm the heart like a home-made medley
And bringing an unapologetic smile to the face.
Scents and textures that carry their own soul
Like full-sprung thoughts of an ageless time
Whole and complete unto themselves entire,
Independent of momentary place or clime.
With such bedeviling enchantments your net you wove
My heart, my soul, my being to capture
And in that moment of your sweetest surrender
Our lives were consumed in love’s sweet rapture.
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Salud
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Posted:May 29, 2009 9:36 pm
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2024 6:26 am
1301 Views
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There are songs that haunt the human mind
And play their notes through moments grey
Like battlefield hymns and dirges solemn
Tho the sound may fade it cannot fade away…
There are tastes which linger when the feast is done
Caressing the palate with ephemeral trace
That warm the heart like a home-made medley
And bringing an unapologetic smile to the face.
Scents and textures that carry their own soul
Like full-sprung thoughts of an ageless time
Whole and complete unto themselves entire,
Independent of momentary place or clime.
With such bedeviling enchantments your net you wove
My heart, my soul, my being to capture
And in that moment of your sweetest surrender
Our lives were consumed in love’s sweet rapture.
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Homecoming
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Posted:May 29, 2009 6:18 am
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2024 6:26 am
1440 Views
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Coming in through the back-door, she hears the news on the living room television. She can see him in his chair, shirt open, smiling in appreciation of the athletic blonde bimbo weatherwoman. If she had her money, and time she could look like that too. Groceries away, back door locked, dinner started on the stove, G goes into the bedroom. He has, of course, left out the DOD… dress of the day… for her.
‘Shithead.’, she thinks, including him with all the men she has to deal with all day, and all their childish games.
First, the shower, with the loofah and the bath beads that He says makes her skin softer and sweeter. Then the light make-up. Not much on the face, but why does she have to rouge her damned nipples? Do they really look any better that way? Sitting before the mirror, for the moment she wonders what would happen if she just said fuck it and put on her sweats and went out on the porch. But she knew.
‘Asshole.’ she muttered barely out loud.
A thong …of course… sliding up her crack, shifting and too tight… crap, stockings… with the frigging garter belt. He knows she hates garter belts. Then He smiles and says , ‘But with those legs, it would be a crime not to.” and He smiles that smile and G knows she will wear the damn stockings.
She actually likes the dress. Way too short and too tight and too low-cut. She loves the way it makes her have to sit, stand and walk. She knows that the rise of her ass makes dress rise to show the bottom of her bottom, which of course is why He makes her wear the damn thong. But she smiles., knowing how hot she looks.
Brushing out her hair, slipping her feet into the too high heels that she would never wear to work, G looks in the mirror. Gone is the harried harridan who left the office, looking for a fight. Gone are the thoughts of broken staplers, miscommunications; router malfunctions have given place to wardrobe malfunctions. She smiles.
Opening the door, her eyes cast down, her lips moist, and complacent, keeping secret their smile, G crosses the living room to the kitchen , though she could have gone directly, but He likes to watch her walk. She is aware of the sway of the hem of her dress, and can picture His eyes following her bottom as she moves. Fuck the weahergir. She goes to the refrigerator and gets a beer for Him. Placing it on a tray with a frosted glass she re-enters the living room, her shoulders back to present her breast to their best advantage, she kneels before Him, presenting the tray, and so much more.
The joy in his eyes, and the total possession in his smile, and she knows why ……..
………………………………...
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Meeting Silky
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Posted:May 1, 2009 5:24 pm
Last Updated:Jun 1, 2009 8:18 am
1860 Views
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Waiting for Silky. The long plane ride from the East coast fading from my numb ass. Concerns over the difference in our ages, fading with the realization that she is near. Her pictures, viewed so often to form a collage in my soul, bringing a smile to my face, and a welcome stirring in my loins. I look out at the slopes beyond my hotel window. If California had made me think of the ocean, it was nowhere near me now. It reminded me of the Pocono mountains, except for some of the trees that I knew were not found in Pennsylvania. The clock seemed almost to laugh at me. An hour or so until she arrived. Not long at all, but an eternity.
The knock, when it came, was brisk, almost mischievious. I waited a minute, then crossed the room. Would she wait, or knock again.
She was even lovelier than I had dared hope. She also looked even younger. She was dressed from work, dark skirt, off-white blouse, with just the right amount of cleavage. Her eyes were shining, and the laughter in them was contagious.
"We should go to dinner." I said, knowing if I asked her in we would never get there at all.
She laughed, knowing.
It was strange; I did not feel like I was meeting her for the first time, but merely picking up where we had left off
In the elevator, two men stole glances as her, wondering.
"We can negotiate on the price, right?" I asked, not trying to whisper.
"Sorry. You know the prices. Of course gratuities are extra."
The two men's eyes widened as the door opened. We went into the dining room.
Eating, drinking, exchanging bits and pieces of our lives as though we were not already tearing at each other's clothing. My eyes savoring the fullness and heaviness of her breasts, the smoothness of her skin, picturing the small bones of her spine against the naked skin of her back as she lay before me. Enjoying her hands, quick, and facile, knowing how they will feel on my skin. The soft pulse at her throat, my lips sensing its rhythm as the savor her warmth. Trying to hear what she is saying of her life, but knowing it is all but shadow play to the reality that throbs about us.
Laughing out loud when the clueless coed asked, "Will you be wanting dessert?"
Alone in the elevator, holding back, enjoying the hunger that was driving me. Seeing her lean forward deliberately offering herself to me, knowing that I was trying to control the moment. I led the way to the room, my card in my hand. I feel her following, the connection between us growing stronger. Ignoring her, I cross to the bed, and turn on the smaller light. Slowly, deliberately, I unbutton my shirt, letting it slide from my shoulders and throw it onto the chair. The shoes slip off easily, then the pants. The socks come off and I peel of my jockeys. Naked, now, I lay on the bed.
Silky is standing by the bureau. I know she is not going to go into the bathroom. No little changing into something more casual. Her lovely eyes fixed on mine, she slowly slips off her heels. Her fingers open the buttons of the blouse, and the shirt falls open. Pulling up the skirt, she unfastens the tabs of the garter belt. Had she worn it all day at work? Thinking of this moment. She pushes the hose off and lets them fall. Now she shrugs out of the blouse and it falls to the floor. Her breasts are lovely, barely held in the sheer bra, her nipples clearly standing proud, even from six feet away. I smile. Silky's fingers move to the snap at the side of her skirt. The skirt falls to the floor. The sheer panties under the garter belt are a set. I am pleased. Silky skins out of the panties, and stands a moment.
Rising from the bed, I cross to her. Taking the stockings from the floor, I unhook the garter belt, and lead my Silky one to the bed. Tying her right wrist wth the nylons, knowing they will be ruined and not caring, I secure her hand to the bed. Laying her body out on the bed, I secure her left with the belt. She smiles. There is no need to restrain her, but the promise is made.
With the backs of my fingers, I caress her neck and her chest, my nails grazing her plump areolae, and the taut nipple. My lips descend upon hers. The moment too long delayed is like an explosion, erupting in my own hunger. I had planned on a slow caressing build-up, but the moment has made its own demands. I want her now.
My hand goes to her wet cunt, quickly laying claim to her and with only a few quick strokes she is panting and writhing with me. Climbing between her legs, I position myself at the hot entrance to her cunt, but barely grazing the wet lips there. Feeling those sweet breasts flatten beneath my own chest, the hair of my chest rubbing against the nipples as she whimpers softly and her hips move to capture the assailant that teases at her door. My hands slide under her shoulders, and reach up, my fingers grasp the hair that spills so beautifully down her back. Pulling the hair slowly, Silky's head is drawn back as my mouth finds the pulse that has called to it all evening. Feeling our bodies meshing, meeting, touching in ways one never knew were possible, I pulled harder on the hair, she moans and as her head moves back her hips pivot, and my cock thrusts home. Her sweet groan echoes my own. Keeping her head thrown back with my grasp upon her hair, my hips rock hard against hers as I thrust in and out knowing I will not last long and not caring. I have nothing to prove. As the moment nears, my lips find her ears and hoarsely I whisper, " Come with me!" and with a deep hard thrust I feel myself spending and with a cry she is trembling along with me and I feel the hot throbbing of her surrender.
Long moments pass. I kiss her neck. her cheek. Her lips. my fingers caress the soft flesh of her inner arms. Now, is the time of discovery......
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Midwinter Musings
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Posted:Dec 22, 2008 5:46 am
Last Updated:Jul 1, 2009 8:45 am
2406 Views
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O'ERCAST
The cold morning air, unwarmed by weakling
Winter Sun,
Stirred sere brittle leaves with an
almost self-conscious whisper.
The shadowless day
washed with shades of gray
listlessly reaches for
an uncertain beginning.
Chill damp still anchored in night
and daring not to hope beyond the day
steals through my corporeal self
like carrion scavengers through
an unmarked grave.
If birds there be,
I do not hear them sing,
From no fading Cathedral
do the matins ring
The murmuring of meandering
stream, wood-rustle sounds,
Auger no great anthem
of beginning.
It is hard in these
Mid-Winter climes
to fasten back
to more vernal times.
Green leaves,
bright laughter,
joy-flushed and
soul-sustaining,
yet, even now
beneath that earth
cold-cracked
and slow-subtle in
its acceptance
of itself,
Life
begins again
its glorious
renewal..
............R.
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Diversion
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Posted:Nov 18, 2008 7:17 am
Last Updated:Dec 2, 2008 6:39 am
1860 Views
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I knew that she was horny. Of course, Silky is always horny, but the sheer, short robe she wore made her hopes clear. I could never spend much time watching her dark hair cascade around her soft, pale shoulders and her warm laughing eyes peering out through that shadowed curtain without wanting to possess her. The little twist of her mouth at the corner as though she is always ready to giggle…..or gasp.
I had had a shitty day dealing with inmates and idiot management. I was in no mood to please anyone. Had I been alone I would probably have gotten a beer and found a good action movie to lose myself in.
I savored the shifting curves of my curvaceous lover with the stoic calm of an artisan. I sat in my favorite chair, kicking off my shoes, and picked up the newspaper. The pleasure I took from immersing my awareness in that paper, knowing Silky was processing the implied orders.
Soon, a cold beer appeared on the table, a short reach from my hand. I left it there for three more pages before easing it to my lips and savoring a third of the nectar within. I felt Silky’s warmth against against my leg as she curled at my feet. From the corner of my eye I could see the crown of her lovely head near but not touching my knee. I concentrated on the printed words.
The truth was that the feeling of being home and at peace was already pervading my awareness, but I was enjoying the sensation of being the total focus. Soon, but not too soon, I finished the paper and the last of the beer. I dropped the paper to the floor and set the bottle on the table.
Normally, at this point, I would either draw Silky’s warm fullness onto my lap to revel in all the soft, resposiveness of my love, but today was not normal. At other times, I might just move to the bedroom, knowing she would follow, and await my cues or my orders.
Leaning back in the chair, I gazed at her through half-lidded eyes. She sat staring at me. Waiting for her cue. I could feel her desire to please me. I basked in the warmth of her need. So many moods she has had to learn to deal with and in learning has deepened our communication. This was something totally new. Passivity.
I kept my features as relaxed and neutral as I could. This is not easy when her soft billowing breasts are straining against the almost not there fabric, her nipples tautly leading the charge.
Tentatively, she reaches up and slides the robe from her shoulders. It pools at her knees, her head lowered, the perfect service offering. I allow a small smile of pleasure to touch the edges of my lips, and perhaps my eyes. Without raising her head, she glances up. I maintain my passivity. I see the smile teasing the corners of her lips.
Rising, Silky moves closer, letting her pendulous breasts hover near my lips. I enjoy the vision, but make no move to capture the straining nipples hectoring me from so close that I would barely have to shift my head. I wait. I sense her growing frustration, but with it the intensity of her attention. She has not touched me, yet. She glances toward the bedroom. I can read the thoughts in her mind as she thinks of the toys we keep there. Would any of them awaken my interest? Even as she went through the catalogue, she seemed to surrender to the realization that my passivity would rule out most of the toys she liked best.
With an almost mischievous glint in those lovely eyes, she knelt and bowed and moved off toward the bedroom. I waited. I had never felt such a concentration of attention. Even though she was in the other room, I could feel her awareness of me and knew that this moment was the focus of her existence as it was of mine.
Returning with the small pink box I had bought her, I had to smile. She had gotten the gist of the moment. These were her private toys, that she used to either amuse herself when I would be away too long, or to get herself ready for me. I had never asked her to service herself in my presence, though I have accepted her use of some of them in our sessions, but it was always at my behest.
Now, Silky knelt a few feet away… taking center stage. I watched. She took the small vibrator; her silver bullet. I knew that she liked it because the head was almost pointed and the vibration was adjustable almost to a painful level. Her control with this small invader was exquisite. She began with her already straining nipples. I knew that she wanted to get right to the ache between her legs, but she was doing this for me. I watched as the tip roved over her puckered aureoles and the color of her nipples darkened with the flush of blood to the tips. My mouth ached to engulf those aching tips. I waited. How long she lingered there, I could not say, but the flush of blood to her throat, and the heaving of her full lovely breasts became a world that took all of my awareness.
When her hand finally moved downward, she almost seemed to have broken a hold of her own. I knew that she had become lost in the near-pain of over stimulation. Often I had used that very self absorbing tactic to wrench her from herself. Now, she had to do it to herself. I saw the subtle shudder as she made her hand move down.
Spreading her legs wider, she rested her hand on her right thigh, and using her left hand to part the shaved lips of her pube wide, she touched the bullet to the tip of her vagina and her breath caught with the intensity of her feelings. The flush of blood in her upper chest and neck deepened, as she looked up at my passive face, hoping to catch a cue, but smiling at the control that she knew I refused to surrender. How she wanted me to take a more active role, and how my refusal was driving her harder and harder. I could see the moisture beading around the lips of her vulva as her hand probed all the most sensitive places that my tongue and fingers knew so well. I noticed how she seemed to hover at the bottom of the slit, teasing the skin that separated her sensitive asshole from her vagina. I made a mental note to explore that another time.
Setting aside her toy, Silky took up the spiders that I had bought her and affixed them to the straining nipples that topped the milky fullness of her lovely breasts.
She knelt, her shoulders back, head down, eyes down, hands resting palms up on her spread thighs. She was offering herself to me, warm, wet, needing. Usually, when she used the spiders I would do the tightening. Today, I waited. How many intense minutes passed, before she let her eyes rise to mine? I saw her stifled whimper as she brought her hands to those lovely breasts, tightening the spiders to a level that actually pierced the skin of her soft flesh. I longed to lick the bead of blood that rose in sharp contrast to her ivory skin, but I let the desire flicker in my eyes and stay there.
Silky’s hand moved to the box, but her eyes stayed on mine. She knew each toy in that arsenal and I was not surprised at her choice. Buster was a special gift I had found for her. A gnarled deep red fist shaped from dense plastic like some chew toy on a slender shaft with a smaller spiked ball at the opposite dip. The seven inch shaft was ideal for the spring that allowed it to be tapped, or flicked or to penetrate to deep enough reaches to awaken even the most jaded.
My Silky one had no trouble entering her cunt. The wetness was already streaking her thighs. Slowly, she pressed the walnut sized fist through the vulvar folds, in and out, in and out; her eyes glazing as she lost herself to the sensations. Deeper she delved in that velvet cave, and her body trembled with the sensations. I sat, watching, knowing my love, and knowing with every fiber of my being every sensation she was experiencing. Deeper, now, my love moved her heavy headed shaft probing herself and savoring each thrust, each twist, each turn and the sudden shudder that shook her body. I felt my erection straining against my slacks. I saw her eyes fix on my hardness, knowing I was unable to be that passive. She smiled even as her eyes shut with the depth of her own feelings.
Throwing her head back to let the mantle of her hair flow down her back, her soft lips open and moist, her sultry eyes glistening with the passion that possessed her, Silky rolled her head on her shoulders, her hand moving faster now as she fucked herself with her toy, part of her lost, but part of her totally focused on me, waiting to see if I would allow her to cum, or command her to stop. I watched.
How long she shuddered on that precipice I do not know, but with an almost tearful whimper, she stopped her hand and after a long pause, withdrew her staff from her cunt. Her breasts heaved with the effort of control. I hoped she could see the pride I felt in her.
Putting aside her toys, Silky moved her body between my knees. She waited. I waited. This was new territory. Would my passivity allow her to do whatever she wanted? Was I ‘submitting’ to her? How much control was I allowing her to take?
I could sense the fear behind the trembling in her fingers as she opened the buttons of my shirt. Spreading the shirt, she leaned forward, arching her back to allow the spiders on her breasts to graze the hairs of my chest. Her heat warmed my skin.
Her lips came down on the side of my neck softly grazing the sensitive skin below my ear as her fingers traced across the skin of my chest.
I allowed my awareness to envelop her and felt each sinuous movement of her lovely body as she let her skin caress mine. Silky moved back and her fingers moved to the buckle of my belt. I waited. She fumbled with the belt, her own hunger and her aching need making her as nervous and clumsy as a virgin. Amazing. I smiled.
Drawing a deep breath, the realization of the source of my amusement touching the shadows of her eyes, she paused to bring herself under control. I waited.
Vaguely, I became aware of the shadows beyond us as I realized that the evening had deepened to night, but I had no idea what time it was. Nor did it occupy my mind for long.
Opening my pants, Silky eased my hardness from the folds, caressing the length of my cock as she leaned into me. Still, I did nothing. Her fingers caressed the sensitive head of my cock, learning each moment and movement of my cock as she handled its heat and need.
Rising on her knees, planted on either side of my legs, Silky poised her hot cunt over the tip of my cock, waiting, wanting, wishing, her lower lip caught in her teeth. My eyes touch hers. Slowly she lowers herself onto my cock, her eyes mere inches from mine, unwavering, wary, waiting for any sign.
Fully enveloped in the wet heat of her cunt, my cock felt more alive and more sensitive than I could ever remember. Silky moved her hips slowly with a rolling thrust that brought a whimper to her lips. I eased back to allow her access, but gave no more. Faster now, Silky flexed her thighs, raising herself enough to impale herself again and again upon the shaft that linked us.
Trembling from her exertions and from the prolonged passion, Silky whispers softly in my ear;
“Please, Master….”
As though this is what I had awaited, I felt my climax overtake me and as I grasped her lovely ass, my finger easily finding her asshole, as she impales herself, and with a cry that is her and I together, we lose ourselves in a mind and soul-numbing explosion that leaves us clinging together as one. Exhausted. Exalted. One.
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inspired...
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Posted:Apr 15, 2008 5:55 am
Last Updated:Aug 20, 2008 5:03 am
1939 Views
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Enhancement Entrancement
Twas milady’s calves that started it. I watched as she slept, her right foot and calf escaping the sheet. Her well-toned calf drawing my hands as it drew my eyes. I loved the way it seemed to vibrate with a life of its own. I began to plan.
It is always fun devising new diversions for milady. Simple, yet delightfully diabolical. I knew she would be thrilled.
Stirring when I returned, she started , then smiled as I threw off the sheet, exposing her lovely body. I never tired of looking at milady, and appreciating her fulsome charms. The curve of buttock descending to the smooth sensitive thigh; the exquisitely tender and responsive flesh behind her knees.
Even as milady’s feline stretch arched her body writhing her hips with a contended sound that was half moan and half purr, I clasped her wrists in my hand and held her down, my free hand taking its accustomed liberties with her lovely body, caressing her lovely breasts, stroking the sensitive skin over her ribs, sliding down between her thighs to spread those lovely legs.
I secured the scarf noose over her wrists and raised them to the headboard, drawing them up to arch her lovely back raising her chest to allow freer access to those sensitive nipples I so delighted in tormenting.
Milady could not see the shackles I affixed to her ankles though she could feel their embrace rising a good six inches above her ankles. Stretching from the leather clasps were thick soft ribbons of non-rip nylon.
Kissing her neck and working slowly down the prominences of her back, down to the cleft of her ass. My teeth slowly bit into that lovely flesh deeply, almost, but not quite breaking the skin. I felt her writhe in the grasp of my bite, and knew that the flesh would be sore tomorrow. The would feel it as she walked or sat, and she would smile, remembering.
Sitting at the foot of the bed, I carefully and slowly, wove the thick silken strands, knowing she must feel the silken flow and the encompassing weave, enveloping her ankle, her foot, like a soft slipper. Then the other foot, not hurrying, enjoying the suspense that was building.
When both feet were wrapped in the cocoon of the silken strands, I reached for the bungee cords that I had put about the legs of the bed. Slowly, drawing the strands together and spreading her legs further apart as the gentle embrace of the chinese handcuffs that I had woven on her feet, pulling them further apart, and pointing her feet straighter and straighter until the feet seemed to have become mere points to the lovely calves that had drawn my eyes; calves that , now, stood out in bold relief enhancing their beauty. When both feet were drawn and stretched and the tightly bulged calves were as far apart as they could get , I tied off the cords, and sat back.
Milady was lovely. Her hands gripped together suspending her shoulders and upper body, even as the tethers of her legs held her in a state of almost suspension. The tension in her back and her thighs was almost vibrating.
Throwing off my robe, I lay beside her. My hand caressed her breast, pinching and twisting her sensitive nipples. My fingernails caressed the skin of her neck, and along her back. The first smack of my flat hand on the tensed curve of her lovely ass was shockingly loud after the silence that had gone before. I took my time, stroking, slapping, varying my rhythm. How lovely she looked with the redness of her soft bottom.
The cold wash cloth was almost as painful as the slaps even as it eased the burn.
Milady trembled as the air dried the cool water that glistened on her ass.
The long ostrich feather was very soft at its tip, with a cluster of featherettes that barely touched her sensitive flesh, as she moaned. The feather trailed along the sides of her breasts and down and across her back and ass and down to those straining calves. I loved to tease the flesh behind her knees, knowing how sensitive it was for her. I took my time, moving slowly and enjoying each twitch and ripple of her body.
The feather went away. I fit the ear phones to her ears, knowing she would be drawn by the strains of Chuck Mangione, even as she shuddered at the further isolation.
Lying beside her, I let her loose herself, in anticipation.
I reached out and caressed her thighs then my hand traveled up to caress the moist warmth of her pussy. She writhed at my touch, welcoming the intimacy and the hope of release, even as she feared what else might be coming. I smiled. How well we knew each other.
Stroking the wet valley, I found the nubbin of her clitoris and teased it as she ground her hips against the invading digit. Even as my finger teased her, my middle finger entered her, probing, loving the warm musky beauty of milady. Then a second finger joined in the dance, probing,. Pressing. Now the three fingers are together, probing, stretching, entering to claim and possess her most private place. Her whimpers punctuate the gasping breaths as my fingers probe deeper. Four fingers now, almost fully within that warm wetness, exploring, teasing, touching, even as my other hand grasps the nipple of her left breast. Milady whimpers now, and her body seems to gyrate upon the pole of my hand as she surrenders herself to the invasion.
Then my teeth find the soft flesh at the side of her armpit and bite down. With a stifled scream, Milady surrenders to the release that shakes her body, and I feel the throes of her vagina as my hand cups and strokes her to the end of her moment.
Lying upon her sweaty, warm and lovely back I enter that wet warmth. She moans pushing back against me. Then, withdrawing my now thoroughly wet cock from the musky grasp, I position myself and with a single thrust, I enter her tight ass as she moans into the pillow and I recapture her breasts as I plunge into her, and milady grinds back against me, until I explode and feel her own echo of my release.
After we have calmed, I slowly withdraw. I release the cord securing her hands and draw them to mine. I reach down to loose the tethers of her legs. We lie for a while stroking, tasting, enjoying the essence of what we are and what we have. She knows how special she is to me.
Later, I smile to see through the faded tight jeans the weave of the silk as she has drawn them up her legs.
As we go through our normal day, my erection will not abate. The vixen shall pay……….
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inspired
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Posted:Mar 28, 2008 6:19 am
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2024 6:26 am
1807 Views
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Irene met me at the library, as arranged. I led her back to the distant section I had ‘discovered’. Not that people aren’t interested in annals of economic development, but the area had little traffic, and the height of the shelves blocked enough of the lighting that the stack to which I led he had the feel of a comfortable cave… if such there may be.
When she started to speak, I shushed her like a good librarian. The heavy plastic stools were on small springed wheels, so they moved well, but were stable when weight was on them.
We kissed, softly at first, then with growing hunger Slowly, deliberately, I kissed her jaw line where it met her chin, a sensitive place for her, then along the slope of her lovely neck, and down to the little hollow by her shoulders. My tongue traced her clavicle, as she gave herself to me.
When I had her step up on the stool, the reach was almost perfect. I put a thick volume of Haverford township tax liens of 1892 on the floor and stood barefoot on it. Perfect. Moving the second stool into position with my foot, while still kissing my love and opening the jacket of her suit, under which, as directed she wore nothing. Anyone passing would readily catch an eyeful of her bounteous breasts. My finger nails scratched across her sensitive nipples and my teeth followed. The nails dug into the side of the sensitive flesh, and her breathing gave away her growing excitement.
The awkward position, the sense of having to keep balanced, the public exposure were all playing their part in making her wet. I could almost smell her fragrant juices flowing.
My hand moved down along her leg and up under her skirt. The cut out panty hose gave me all the access I desired. My fingers ruffled the fine moist curly hair of her cunt, grasping them and pulling none too gently. Swaying to keep her balance, but becoming lost in the moment, Silky groaned softly in my ear. Biting on her breasts and massaging the folds of her labia, I gave myself up to the sensations that were us. Her small sighs and whimpers as I introduced the second finger into her folds, my thumb rubbing the meatus of her urethra. Her body shivered even as the third finger slid easily into her wetness.
Balanced, now, on the two stools and upon the assault of my hand, I looked into her flushed face. The mottled skin of her upper chest and the heaving of her lovely breasts gave mute testament to the experience.
My whole hand was now inside of her warm, wet cunt. My fingers stroked the cone of her cervix, then turning my hand, I let my knuckles roll against that spongy weight as my fingers spread gently to caress her from within.
My fingers stroked her hanging womb, like a man caressing his beard, as my palm still pressed on her urethra. Irene’s legs were trembling now, and I knew that she was ready for the next part.
Reaching up, my hand caressed the nape of her lovely neck, pulling at the fine hairs there. Silky rolled her fine head against my hand. I loved the feel of her skull under the thick dark hair. My fingers moved down along her neck. Just to the side of the tendon that defines the side of her throat, is the spot where the carotid artery can best be felt. My practiced hands readily found the racing pulse. If you don’t know what you are doing please don’t do what I did next. Allowing the tips of my fourth and fifth fingers to lie upon that pulse, my thumb reached across her lovely, exposed, and very vulnerable throat, and found the pulse on the other side. Pressing gently into this trembling piston, I massaged her carotids. The effect of doing this is to slow the heart. It can be used when the heart is beating too rapidly, or erratically, but when used with a healthy hyper-sensitive young woman like Silky, the effect is to slow her pounding heart. As the heart slowed, and the flow to her brain was slowed, she became lightheaded. The center of her being and all that she was, became the hand that held deep within her cunt.
Irene swayed upon her precarious perch, and my hand moved within her to keep her balanced. I eased the pressure on the life-sustaining artery, but as the pulse picked up, my massage resumed.
I do not know how long we went on like this. Time lost all meaning. Then, biting her lovely nipple hard, I released her lovely neck, and pressing her urethra with one finger, my thumb easing into her ass, my finger strummed the tip of her cervix, and my love shuddered through a long and moan-stifled orgasm. As she came, she squirted and I loved the warm feel of it on my wrist.
When she recovered sufficiently, I eased my hand from its warm, welcome haven, and licked my fingers. Closing her jacket, I helped her down from the stools and put the book back on the shelf slipping into my boots.
We went to lunch. She knew I had not washed my hand or wrist and she smiled as I relished my sandwich with the special flavors not found on their limited menu.
……….
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For Silky
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Posted:Mar 26, 2008 8:17 am
Last Updated:Mar 27, 2008 5:06 am
2012 Views
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The chair came first. I saw it in the goodwill store and the plan came together like an orchestra. The matronly clerk was very happy with the grin on my face.
“I am sure you can fix it up and it will give you years of satisfaction.”
I tried not to laugh.
It was heavy. Damn near a throne, with a padded seat and solid wooden arms and legs. I had to have help getting it into my truck and then I had to pay a neighbor’s to help me get it into the house.
Irene came over at seven. She looked good enough to eat. Red vinyl dress cut down to her sternum. No bra, of course. Long, dark hair pulled back in barrettes ready to cascade about her lovely face. I deliberately kept it casual and pleasant through dinner. Then it was time for dessert.
Rising from the table I led my Silky one to the living room. She knew that something was up, besides the obvious. Slowly I peeled her out of her dress.
The thigh high stockings and her heels and a heart locket were all that separated her from being completely naked. Much more erotic that way.
When I tied the blindfold about her head, her deep breath raised those lovely full breasts and I was tempted to stop and play a bit, but control was the issue. No?
Taking her two wrists in my right hand, I led her into the bedroom. Seating her on the chair, I smiled at her reaction. I had had to cut the feet off to allow for her height and to attach it to the board that kept it stable. The cool wood on her warm flesh was her first sensory perception. As I drew her right arm along the arm of the chair, did she feel the leather of the restraint?
As I fastened the cuff that embraced her forearm with loud brass snaps, she was aware of the click of each snap, and with each snap, a surrender.
The left arm followed, then the legs. For the legs, I chose to use a spreader bar with cuffs, and a strap that secured it to the base.
When I finished, I stepped back, letting her begin to realize how totally restrained she was. With forearms firmly grasped, Irene could only lean forward so far. With her legs spread so invitingly, she knew that I could see and enjoy her lovely cunt as I wished. I knew that she loved this, even as the ‘shame’ of being so exposed and vulnerable, heightened her awareness. The flush of her cheeks, the fullness of her lovely nipples, the moisture that glistened on the sparse patch of hair that did more to enhance than hide her sweet cunny, all told loudly of her pleasure.
From under the chair I brought out the piece de resistance. Affixing the soft velvet collar to her lovely neck, with its small bells to amuse her, I drew the fine but very strong chain up from the base. Drawing her head forward until her arms would allow no more, I clipped the chain to the collar. A perfect fit.
Stepping back I looked at my Silky One, so delightfully arrayed. She could barely move her lovely head from side to side, and forward and back no more than inches. Perfect.
I stood, silent, for a time. Irene moved a muscle here and there, not really testing her limits, as much as enjoying them. As she realized how truly helpless she was she strained more forcefully and the more she strained the more aware she became of her total helplessness.
I knew the safe word would never come from those lovely lips. I never went beyond her zone without discussing it. This was love not discipline.
The ostrich feather teased softly along her neck, raising gooseflesh. Across her breasts and around her nipples. Along the soft flesh of her inner thighs. I had long ago learned how sensitive the flesh along the side of her ribs was, so of course, it got special attention. Then withdrawn. Anticipation.
The nipple clamps with their small silvery bells came next. She groaned. I smiled. Her body shivered creating such a lovely sound. Over her full breasts, pressing into the bases, I passed the elastic bands, squeezing and compressing those lovely orbs. I knew that quickly they would become very sensitive and the clamps would become tighter. I watched as my love became aware of the changes.
Running my nails around her breasts in their heightened state sent renewed shivers through her body, setting off the bells. I could take no more.
Stepping forward, I stroked her lovely face with my erection. She gasped and opened her mouth, but I made her wait. Then, just the tip, touched those soft, full lips. She strained to take more in, but I stayed just beyond her reach. Irene’s fingers twitched, aching to pull me closer. Her head shook in a cacophony of bells, as she tried to get more of me. Slowly, I let her tongue caress my cock. Slowly I pressed forward, as she hungrily took me in, then leaning back, withdrew to the tip, which her lovely talented tongue teased and tasted. Playing with the bells at her breasts, knowing how the clips bit into that sweet flesh, pulling gently but firmly at the chain, I made sure she was reminded of her total servitude.
Her body was trembling now and my own need was great. Moving forward, I began to fuck her lovely mouth in earnest, to the accompaniment of the bells and her own silky keening. It did not take long and Irene groaned and swallowed furiously as I filled her mouth with my cum.
As I slowly withdrew, I reached down with the vibrating rubber knob, and thrust against her now tumescent clit. With a cry that probably shook the neighbors, my lovely one came in a convulsive explosion that shook all the bells and more.
I stood back and looked upon my love. Sweaty, hair mussed, face streaked with tears, cum and sweat. Breasts almost purple. She was beautiful. I took a few pictures for the album. The slowly began the release process. By the time I led her to our bed, Irene was weak and spent, but delightfully warm and soft. We cuddled as sleep overtook us.
Gotta love that chair.
……………………………
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for cazzie
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Posted:Mar 25, 2008 7:34 am
Last Updated:Mar 26, 2008 8:18 am
1994 Views
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The Ballad of Cathouse Cazzie….
In the Wickshire hills, the days are long
But the nights are longer still
And many a miner and logger
lay restless with arms to fill
Though money was hard to come by
And coins were precious few
A man’s got needs and when a man’s
Got needs, what the hell else can he do…..
There in the cabin on the side of the hill
Overflowing her red satin dress
Her blond hair falling to bare shoulders
In a sensual, mind bending caress
Her strong legs promising forever,
And the promise of laughter in her eyes
Many is the man who spent his last cent
Just to be lost in the eden of her thighs…
But Cathouse Cazzie was a softie,
And kind as the nights were long,
Twas some who claimed she could be had
For the price of a dance or a song.
But I am here to tell the true story
By the honor of all true Bards
And if you are ever in her company
I will tell you how to play your cards
For Cathouse Cazzie has a weakness
And it isn’t silver or gold
But the purring weight of a pussy,
Content in her lap to hold.
So if you would find nirvana
While astray in the Wickshire hills
But find yourself low on silver and
Perhaps even lower on bills
But still your would lie in her arms
And amuse yourself with those tits…
Just remember to pet her pussy…
And bring her some kibbles and bits……
R.
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