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This Valentine’s Day will change every Valentine’s Day from now on. My father decided to pass on this day.  Who knows if he was aware of that it was a lover’s day to pass on, but I like to think that in the end he chose love.

A lot of you know why I have been taking so many trips out of town so I could help care for my father. You may have seen me joke about his impressive collection or books, thousands of them. Favorite collections lined bookshelves, while bookshelves lined the walls  of his home. Friends came to see him and told us how he was the smartest man they ever knew.

His quest for knowledge and learning, 2 bachelors, 3 masters and an almost phd never translated into his family. For us it was like a pathology, but when he was in his element he was revered for his mastery on his favorite subjects.  We were a little robbed of family barbeques while his immersed in an important book in his favorite spot.  Although he made very smart children too. Decision makers, people that can see simplicity in complexity, people that excel in whatever they chose.

In his last months we, my brother and sister, rallied around him, caring for him, whatever he needed we made it happen. He wanted to die at home.  He had no fear and was so accepting about moving on. His humble fading body and spirit grounded us. I’m so proud and honored  that we helped him pass with such love, community and peace.

Much love!!!

Inspirations to write a post come and go. They wax and wane with the flow of daily life, when my libido is in a creative mood or when there is something that just needs to be shared. Today a friend revealed he has been avidly waiting for me to write something more raw. A story of me being raw in sexual desire and activity.

One reason I shy from this is because I fear if someone were to come for a massage they may get the wrong impression. I do have stories, some are imaginative while others are real. A good story for me would be to combine both imagination and realism. Maybe I don’t want to be in my apartment, but flying to Hawaii to meet a man or a much waited rendezvous coming to realization.

I’m feeling excited. I’m feeling like sitting in a cafe with a glass of cabernet and pouring out sexiness. My reward is hearing your pleasure from reading, knowing you will be erect and thinking wild thoughts of me or remembering a time once when you had your own hot rendezvous.

The keywords for the next story are:

• blindfold
• door
• hair
• heels
• hotel
• humiliate
• rimming
• spanking
• submission

Written August 2017

Sometimes I don’t know how to connect to her. She has been caressed and licked, flicked and slapped, licked and sucked, to be coaxed out of her cavern of slumber. Waiting to become erect to stretch to her most blossoming expression she can get stuck. It’s the mind. Let go, she tells her mind. Stop thinking. Breathe. You want this too. Right? Too feel her shudder underneath your tongue. That energy that flows from her region and onto you.

Can you get quiet with her? And still?  A meditation of two people.

But why? Who cares? Rub her hard and fast. The cavern is wet right? She’s squirming and moaning right? Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that it?

No. Look at my eyes. Understand my breathing. Am I connected?

It’s so quiet when it is real. It’s so small, but with the mastery that you possess you can fill the room with it’s energy. That’s the power you want to share, to expose, and to possess. That’s the power that heals, that lasts and that makes a difference.

Go back and look at that doodle. See her as a Warrior. Stop trying to conquer  and impress. You are in the honor of her presence. She holds the magic, you see. She is the gateway to your desire and the one that will awaken all the love and passion that will fulfill you. Go to her as humbly as possible.

And let her be more.

Created Sept 1, 2017

I was inspired by this poem, particularly the last line.  One day it occurred to me how hard you all work. Meetings, travel, get up and go, and I want to shake you and say…”Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”.

Keep scrolling down. I gave you a present at the end.

“The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

(Shhhhhh…..I changed the words for you, for us.)

Who made the world?
Who made the vagina, and the clitoris?
Who made the clitoris?
This clitoris, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her hips back and forth as well as up and down-
who is gazing at me with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her light brown thighs and thoroughly washes my face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into her earth, how to kneel down into that soil,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through her fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

 

The summer I was 12 years old I grew breasts and I got my first bra. All of a sudden I could not walk around without a bra unless I was in the privacy of my own bedroom, with other girls or wearing a swim suit. Every girl knows is coming so it’s not that strange, but  it just seemed unfair that I had to protect others from my breasts. Going back to school that summer from being flat chested to a B cup got me a lot of unwanted attention. It’s was sixth grade. From age 12 onward I was harassed daily starting with the early comments “You grew over night!”. Even now I can be quite sensitive to men that jump to quick to commenting on my cleavage.

All this attention taught me to to dislike being large breasted. I robbed myself of receiving pleasure and enjoying them.  I”m remembering now a moment in college. I was with two other women changing in the locker room before a modern dance class.  The two women where girlfriends, lesbians. I was probably 20 and had not seen an ample variety of breasts yet. I did what most American women do and averted my eyes from looking at the other women’s clothes-less body.

“Wow. Your breasts are so beautiful” one of them said matter of factly.  The lesbian did not stare at my breasts in lust, but envy.  There is no delicate way to say this, but she had ugly breasts. Not just flat, but really flat like a pancake. One was quite larger than the other which made her nipples point in different directions. I was envious of her small chest. I told her how I would love to dance without strapping the down and fit into  wear cute dresses. She told me how lucky I was to have perfect shaped nipples. So there you have it, a lesbian with ugly breasts was the first person to help me accept my body.

Fast forwarding to now I am in love with my breasts. I have a new hobby of collecting vintage slips.  One of my new favorite things is to fill the slip in with my breasts and admire how they fill the soft fabric lined with lace. Being older I revel in the attention of my lover’s obsession over my breasts and nipples. In fact, my lover has to be into my breasts. I want to be chased around the house, felt up in the kitchen and ordered to not where my bra at home.

Besides the Lesbian Conversation my work with all of you really helped me transform those earlier years. You helped me discover my beauty and now when a pair of lips fall onto my nipple I go into elation. The more I get the more I want it.  And do you know what else I love? Laying on my back with you straddling me with your hard cock. With a little oil you can slide in and out while I hold the left and right breast together. I love watching the tip of you emerge from my cleavage. You don’t know this, but as you get harder and start to pump me I can feel a delicious energy pouring out of you into my chest as if into my heart.  It’s an orgasm for me and one of my favorites things.

One of the sexiest things ever, I mean ever and ever is to be undressed extremely slowly. It’s not that easy and I have myself teaching and guiding the process.  Step by step, taking the pauses in, going so slow that by the time I’m undressed I’m a mess should be the goal. As the undresser I encourage you to think like an artist. Instead of thinking ‘I am taking her clothes’ take the perspective of ‘how will I make this woman look and feel so sexy that it makes me hard as a rock?’.  In the end, it’s like an art project.

One thing I learned taking art classes in college is to step away from your project and assess. It’s not hard! Simply stop and pause, take a step or two back and look at your creation. Take it and imagine what the next step should be. Below I made a step by step outline of a general start for addressing a woman, or specifically me. Yay for me!

1. Have me sit down and begin to trace the neck of the dress avoiding contact to the skin. Slowly and gently tug at one side to slide it over the right shoulder. Be careful not to touch me, but let the fabric caress my skin while you expose my shoulder. Stop and admire.
2. Next go to my legs. Lift my dress just above my knees. You should be able to see knees jutting out from the fabric.
3. Going back up to the breast and shoulders will take some skill and patience. I want you to trace along the border of the fabric again, but this time allowing you finger to touch my skin. Take more risks and brush your hand over the fabric that is covering my breast. The trick is to tease and not go for cupping the full breast or diving onto the skin too quickly. Be patient creating your work of art.
4. Back to the legs and again slowly guide the fabric of my lacey dress up to the crotch. You might need to spread my legs a little wider. Do so with your voice as a command or use your hands spreading each leg apart at the knees. Stand back and admire.
5. Back to the breasts! This time I want you to expose one breast. Maybe play a little first by pinching my nipples through the fabric, caress my face and neck before you reach into my  bra, cup my breast and then finally release it free. (Gentlemen….being half exposed feels sooo sexy. )
6. Now for the panties. To make feel even more exposed ask me to lean back so you or I can pull my panties down to either mid thigh or below my knees. Eventually they will come all the way off, but not yet.
7. At this moment I’m undone and hopefully wetter than wet. It’s up to you now. What’s next?

 

From these words and phrases that y’all sent me, I created the poem below. Enjoy and thank you for contributing to art!

• Venture into the unknown pleasure abyss
• Your Garden of Ecstasy, ready to be pl(f)ucked.
• excited, naughty, warm, tight, inviting
• Ahh, sweet Georgia O’Keefe..
• Inviting sweet sensual love

 

This excited ecstasy

Her sensual garden inviting love and naughty pleasure

I plucked her garden sweet and her ready tightness into my unknown venture

So warm

Ahh….my very own abyss