Holy Cow. Where did the year go? The blood rushed to her head as the backs of her knees dug into the worn-out wooden chair. Only 127 days left before the bookstore closed. The cold floor soothed the backs of her hands as she let the pain of loss drain out of her.
She woke up as the sound of hard soles on ancient floors crept past the hissing blood and pounding heart. They were a gift when they opened the store together. Beloved fingertips tugged, and the suspended hem of her dress slipped silently down, revealing her curves to the musty air of the abandoned shop. The stilettos moved closer and she felt her bend, kiss, then taste, and she knew that everything would be fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
127 days left. 127 words.
Thanks to all that joined in below. If you wrote a piece but I didn't get it on the list, please add it in the comments below so we can all see what you wanted to share....
While I don't understand a word of this blog, I loved the pictures that were on this post, so, for anyone who's interested, pick a picture and let's keep FFF going.
I found two that I liked, but this seemed more FFF appropriate.
127 Days left in the year on Friday
so 127 Words
and the key phrase is "...127 Days left....."
If you want to play along, send me your link and I'll add it to my post.
There are some nights, even when I'm up late and all alone that the mood just doesn't hit.
I'm on the road this week for work and that means a nice hotel room, all night A/C without worrying about the bill, clean sheets, and free internet. That is usually a dangerous combination.
I've been working on some actual work, texting with friend about her new boyfriend, and I even got to chat for a few minutes with a wonderful new friend, though nothing happened. I think I scared her off. That's OK though, she is a delight to talk to, funny, has a beautiful accent. So she dropped off and probably has been asleep for a long time. My friend was texting me from the gym, but is now home and helping her daughter with some homework (she's a couple of time zones away), and I've finished writing my postcards to friends from the road.
So that leaves me awake, bored, a tad horny, just a tad, and with my laptop open. I even have two RedTube videos loaded up(30327, 30322, ), but I'm not in the mood to hit play, and that's even after seeing 5 super hot friends come into the cycling class I went to tonight (3 blonds, to brunettes, all fit, but none of them really into the class). They all chose bikes on the back row, I talked to two of them to help them set up their bikes. The real star was the teacher. Tall, fit, long brown hair in a pony tail, long spandex workout pants, three layers on top, a white bra, a black tank top, and a grey top that held everything together. She was beautiful, the class was fun, the music was great. That is usually PLENTY of material for some fantasy time.
The true Laugh Out Loud moment was after class. I introduced myself and said that I taught cycling at my gym. We talked about the women in the back who talked over the music no matter how loud it got, about the pretty-bots who show up but never break a sweat, and about how nice the new gym was (it really is a luxury spot). Anyway, we were chatting it up fine, she was nice, I was witty, wasn't getting tongue-tied like some times and I was about to see if she wanted to go get some dinner. [This is very unusual for me, but i was trying to go with the flow, you know.]
So, we are walking out of the room, lots of eye contact, exchanged club information (she has a sister in my area) and then turned and planted a giant kiss on this tall, sweaty, way too good looking for his own good, gym rat. And it was a good kiss too. I shook his hand after the smooch and said that I enjoyed her class and walked off. I literally started laughing out loud, it was so funny that I had jumped the gun so far and so fast. I really did laugh at just how dumb I would have looked if I would have tried to close the deal just 2 feet away from her BF/Fiance/Husband/I don't know. (She introduced me by name, not by role)
Anyway, I left the gym in a humbled, but hilarious mood. But not a sexy one.
I think that my mood has something to do with the fact that I've been sick for the past couple of days. Without going in to any detail, I have felt like death the past 36 hours, and blame it on something I ate. I ate only one meal on Monday, and 1 1/2 today. Definitely not sexy. I finally got some OTC meds to calm things down and was able to go to class, but the whole experience is draining. I just don't have the energy tonight. Probably a good thing, I need to get to sleep.
Being sexy, feeling sexy, is a high energy activity most of the time. There are softer, more sensual moods, but real sex, a good orgasm, even if on your own, takes energy and an up mood. Tonight would be a good night for curling up on the couch with warm pajamas and a chick flick, as long as you don't mind if I fall asleep before the opening credits are done.
I don't usually link directly to porn, but I stumbled across the Sex Tape of Kendra Wilson, ex-Playboy bunny.
All I can say is (1) she's not that pretty; (2) she's an awful actress, even for porn; and (3) what the hell was she doing with a mug like that guy? Bald with a pudge belly and he's banging a future playboy model?
I guess she had to start somewhere. Maybe he promised her a big break, but geez louise, i'm better looking than that guy (which isn't hard), where's my future bunny sex tape?
I just couldn’t do it this week. I looked at this picture for 6 days and didn’t know what direction to take. I thought about several cock-hardening, panty wetting scenarios but I couldn’t get them to coalesce in my addled little brain. I was about to give up when a new thought occurred to me. I don’t think it’s brilliant, but the movie that played in my head got me hot, so I thought I’d try and capture it, but again, I failed on the word count, so I cheated. I give you a story in three parts, each 137 words long.
Someone commented that my last few FFF had been on the angry/bitter/revenge side of things and asked if I was OK. I assured them that I was fine and promised myself to try and write something a little more cheerful. I’m not sure if I made it all the way to ‘cheerful’, but at least no body ended up dead.
“So, this is what 1,000 Euro’s will buy me”, he thought as he dropped the hotel key on the entryway table. They turned to him, with the dispassionate air of women who had known pleasure and abuse for too long. But her eyes were somehow accusing.
He slid off his tuxedo jacket and hung it carefully on the back of the door. The room was perfect, but insanely expensive, a view of the roses in full bloom came with a price.
His scotch was already poured. He liked the heft of the crystal in his hand as he picked it up, took that first sip, grimaced, and sighed. It had been a long week, too many guests, to much laughter, too much noise.
He pulled up his chair, the agreed upon 3 meter gap was established.
“Begin”
They worked quietly her dress became a discarded thought on the sun-lit floor. Toys, oils, and ties appeared. He watched and hardened as she was bent to the will of the others, their eyes flared as they touched, rubbed, penetrated and fucked his girl. Tongues explored tethered legs, she was spread, pulled, violated, twisted, and taken again. Tears came to her eyes as her mouth was forced to the cunt of the other, but flavor and fragrance ruled the day, and she greedily devoured her. She gasped as she felt the lubricated tip press between clenched cheeks, but remember his command and relaxed and allowed entrance. They did things he had never imagined. $1,000 Euros was pocket change now. His gulped the aged liquor as he saw his face in the mirror, his eyes were somehow accusing.
Hours passed into eternity. He body was spent, drained, overwhelmed to the point of collapse. Her body screamed for an end, her feverish brain cried “No more.” Her jaw throbbed, her cunt ached, muscles begged, eyesight blurred, it was all she had wanted and more. A warm cloth soothed her brow and she saw him approach her bare and ravished form.
Girl A, for they had no names, unzipped him gently and with a single stroke gave him release. It was hot on her skin and she smiled that her offering had been accepted.
An hour later, washed, refreshed, dressed in white, she walked down the aisle. The priest concluded, and Sir placed a silver band around her offered neck as the crowd muttered, their eyes were somehow accusing. But she smiled, and wept, and they kissed.
Another quiet day, some friends on vacation, some at work, some home sick (get better!!), and some apparently sick of me (a common malady).
For those who tried, but couldn't see the video on my post "Alone Part 1", here is the link.
Quiet days, though busy at work, are at once valuable and scary. They allow me to think, to be productive, to re-center, to begin again, to contemplate. A friend asked if my religion encourages medication, "No," I said, "not as in yoga or humming or chanting, but we are to find quiet times to contemplate, to think deeply, on the messages of life and love and to focus on higher things than paying the bills. We are to be grateful for the simple gifts that bless our lives, a home, children, friends, good food, freedom to worship.
But, when the quiet settles in too deeply, I think on things best left alone, of past mistakes, decisions made in haste, words spoken in anger, bells that can not be un-rung. Life, for most of us, is a series of mis-steps, wrong turns, bad choices, and regret. We apologize when forced, forgive when asked, and hope that we are also forgiven. The quiet unsettles my soul by forcing me to think too much about events that can no longer be changed, outcomes so deeply embedded that guilt, sorry, and forgiveness are moot points in a life of pain.
So we let go and move on, but do we? Do we really let go of the hurt inflicted by others or do we just find new targets for our rage? Do we store injustice in heart shaped bottles until someone says the phrase we have been waiting for and we uncork the anger we have so lovingly saved and nurtured.
There is a lot of pain in the world today. Social, economic, religious, political, ethnic, and racial memories stir hate afresh every day, ensuring a never ending supply of excuses to hit back, as if our anger today can bring back grandpa, now long dead, or clear the name or regain the land of generations long long past.
I have a list, like all of us, of grievances I would like to file with the universal complaint box, and if you want to know how petty, shallow, vain, and selfish I am, just ask me for the list, but it's long, and you may need a sandwich and a cot to get through it all.
When the world gives me quiet days, I try to go through the list, not with a check mark to ensure that my list is long and healthy, but with an eraser, to make it shorter, or to at least fade the lines on the deepest ink. Because, you see, I have too many things too do, and so little time to do them on my quiet days.
I need to play more piano, take longer walks, sing louder, read under more trees, kiss under brighter stars, snuggle deeper, eat better, help more often, and lose myself in paintings that make me gasp.
See, I told you quiet days make me think too much.
School started last week, I know, it's awfully early for summer vacation to be over but I got an call from my wife stating that for the first time in a long long long time, she didn't have anything that she "had" to do. Sure, the "To Do" list is still there, but her schedule was her own. With all three kids in school now, she'll actually have a few hours a day to herself.
So the question is, what to do?
I'll ask my dear readers....
What would you do with 5 hours of uninterrupted time?
I have a list of ideas, but I don't want to steal any from you.
I absolutely love this piece. I used to spend hours alone, writing, reading, playing the piano, walking across town to eat at a certain dinner with great blues music. I still love traveling alone for business where I can visit the museums I want to visit, to stare at one painting for as long as I want and wonder to myself what the artist had to go through to get this work on canvas. I like sitting on park benches high on the hill near my house and think about what and who I miss, about friends no longer friends, and enemies long forgotten.
I love the music, the animation, the gentle tones and insightful words, I love this video
This little snippet was inspired by the video I posted on Sunday. I guess "inspired" is the wrong word, it put me in a mood, and this came out in an e-mail to a friend.
I've had an interesting day.
I pissed off a friend
Went out to lunch and talked about movies
Looked at, and then deleted, pictures of another friend who is no longer in my life
Deleted some posts written in anger, and made arrangements to see a movie with my kids.
I have ignored work,
realized what boring really means,
sent e-mails to set up more boring meetings,
and told myself for the 100th time to get a new job, even if I have to take a pay cut.
I have read angry rants from angry people and felt sorry for them,
and for me for agreeing with them.
I have craved the kiss of my wife, a co-worker, my first love, and the hug of my mother.
I missed my dad and wished i lived closer,
but was glad to live far away from a brother who I can not help, nor would he accept it if he could.
I made my body stronger, but ate poorly, I laughed little, and sat quietly as the day passed.
And yes, I wrote a long and odd e-mail, and sent it to you.
OK, the end of the first month is here and we have some good news. I’m going to post this on a Thursday, which is HNT day and so NO one is going to pay any attention to me today since I’m not hot, cute, beautiful, or half naked. OK, I was naked in the shower earlier today, after the gym, and for a little bit on the back patio of my house, but that doesn’t count.
Since I posted this chart the first time last month, I’ve been trying several things to improve my eating. But, the first ½ of the month was all about vacation eating and gaining 3 pounds just to make the challenge interesting.
My long term goal is to lose 1 pound per week with a final target weight of anything under 205. if I can get to, and hold on to 200, that wouldn’t be bad either. I started at 220 (100 kilos).and want to get to 205 (93.2 kilos) or below.
Good things during the month:
oSaul quit and took his M&M jar with him, that jar was diabolical and NEVER empty.
oI started running more than once a week and taught cycling several extra times as a sub.
oMy vacation was to a beautiful desert resort full of hot body bikini girls and I realized that if I was them, I wouldn’t notice me either. I’d like to change that.
oI went running up a very steep hill, it was fun, but realized I was carrying way too much weight along the way. It helped me make a mental shift.
oI don’t want to surprise people anymore. I hate the reaction I get when I tell people I’m a cycling instructor at the gym, they look me up and down and say, “Really?” They always try to tack on something nice at the end, but their first reaction of shock and doubt says it all. It’s really as if this guy was introduced as the new James Bond.
oI am fit, I want to look fit.
oI started eating breakfast. I bought a box of granola to go with my yogurt, I’m bringing a bunch of fruit to work each day, and I’m making sure I eat before 9:00 am. If I don’t, I’m starving at lunch and eat to much or snack all afternoon.
oOh yea, and only one muffin on muffin day, but they are oh so yummy.
Bad things during the month:
oI went through my “FU Weight loss, just watch, I’ll gain 5 MotherF***ing pounds”
oI tend to do this at the start of any self-imposed “diet”, the idea of it just makes me sick and I always fight it. I’m past that phase now, so I’m back on track.
oI still tend to order that one extra thing on the menu I shouldn’t. Burger and Fries? No problem, Burger and Fries and Nuggets? Bad Choice.
oSoda or Shake? How about water fatso?
oJust because it’s cheap, doesn’t mean it’s healthy (thanks McDonalds $1 value meal)
oMy wife asked if I was going to wear my rash guard in the pool “to prevent sunburn” when it was almost 6pm. What’s next, she hands me a burka? I get the hint.
oGreenpeace tried to pull me off the beach and back in the water, twice.
In the end, and really in the past two weeks, since vacation, I’ve started to see some weight drop off. I’m lucky in that I’m healthy and am not currently fighting any other issues. If I can stay focused, I hope to see more progress over the next 4 weeks until my next check point.
State
July 15
August 13
September 13
Height
5’ 10”
Weight
219
214
210
Age
45
Body Fat %
23.7
27.8 (??)
BMI Score
31.4
30.7
30.1
Pant Size
38
37.9 ?
Avg Heart Rate – Resting
55
56
Avg Heart Rate – Running
143
142
Latest 10K time (Running)
59:22
57:33
56:00
And yes, I was happy to cut my 10K run time down by 1:55, I still haven’t picked a goal race, but I will post it here when I do.
One last note on my BMI and Body Fat %. I’m not a huge fan of the BMI (Body Mass Index) but it’s the government and insurance standard in the USA so it’s relevant. My insurance is higher than it should be because my BMI is too high. In order to get a break on my insurance I have to be under 200 for 6 months and then apply for a new rate, but, by then, I will be older (a birthday is coming up) and the re-evaluation based on being skinnier but older, my not go in my favor.
As for my body fat %, I need to take it more often and at the same time every day, as soon as I get to the gym, and BEFORE my workout so I’m well hydrated, which is supposed to make it more accurate. I have no idea if 23.7 or 27.8 is the right number, I didn’t go UP 4% as I lost weight, but I won’t know until I measure it more often.
Many of you will say that the numbers don’t matter, that it’s all in how I feel or how my pants fit, or how many super models offer to carry my child (please stop calling Marisa).
But, I’m a firm believer in the idea, “That which can be measured, can be improved.” So I’m going to measure things.
If anyone is having struggle or successes with their fitness goals, share them here, we’d love to chime in and give you unreasonable advice.
Saturday was hectic. We had both hinted at finding some private time that night, but by the time we shut down the computers, turned off the TV, finished the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, and straightened up for a new week, it was too late for both of us. Sunday started off the same. Church in the morning, some family time over lunch, and then to the garage for 30 minutes of straightening which turned in to 2 hours of cleaning, and then some work in the office to get ready for school year that is fast approaching. I told her I was hopping in the shower at 10 which turned into 10:30 by the time a restless child was comforted and some e-mails were returned to could have been ignored. I was in the middle of a chapter of my book when I heard her come in the bedroom and lock the door. I smile to myself but refused to turn around, instead letting her go through her nightly routine as if I didn't know what a locked door meant. She was a light summer pajamas but she had removed her socks so I knew something was about to happen. After being married long enough you recognize those little signs that mean, "I could go either way but I sure wouldn't mind if you wanted to make love to me tonight." I wish I could rephrase that to say, "I took off my socks because I want you fuck me." but I know that's not the way she talk, or even thinks, even in the safety of her own head. She is a model of self-control and self-editing. Damn it. I am convinced that some of our issues would go away if she just stopped editing herself and realized that it's okay to say fuck. clit, cum, suck, swallow, lick, cock, and eat me. But last night was not a night to complain or to argue. She likes kissing me and I like kissing her so we started with that. Soft kisses that got firmer. Just a little bit of tongue without making her feel invaded. Long kisses told her it was okay if she needed to fall asleep but that I really wanted more. Since it was now after 11, I knew that soft kisses under the covers would lead to some wonderful sleeping and very little fucking. I had not let her turn off the lights and I took her by the hand and made her kneel up in the middle of the bed. This was partly to keep her awake, and partly to allow me to see her in the mirror behind our bed. We're both 45 and no longer look like a 20-year-old versions of herself, but she still has a terrific ass and I love her curves and her skin is soft and inviting to touch. I started with something I saw in, I think, Cosmopolitan magazine. Each person had to take turns finishing the sentence, "I like it when..." Unsure of what I wanted, I went first: I like it when … (I looked her straight in the eye) you initiate sex. She said that I should be happy then, because she initiated sex. I asked her, "When?", I asked, she replied, "Well, I came to bed without socks on, that should tell you enough." I shook my head and told her I was always happy to see bare feet. Her turn I like it when, she paused, you give me a back rub. We both laughed in agreement that they usually put her to sleep but sometimes that is just what she needs. My turn Still kneeling, my hands roaming over her hips and back ass, I could feel myself hard and between us is my chest rubbed against her. I like it when… you touch me without being asked. Her turn I like it when you don't act disgusted when I have to use a vibrator. I told her she can't say negative things in this game and that she had been rephrase it. I like it that you don't mind I use a vibrator. I told her, as I kissed her and stared into her eyes, that I loved watching her use her vibrator. She finally came around. I like it when you help me use my vibrator. With that I laid her back down and we began kissing again. "Open your legs for me." I whispered and she complied. My hands snaked between her legs and began exploring, gently at first, knowing that her body needed a few more minutes than mine to get ready. Gentle spreading led me to the moisture I needed and I softly began circling inside her. With the lights on I could see myself touching her and, as I found the right spot, her legs opened wider. Perhaps spurred by the game she reached over and took me in her hand and began stroking me gently. More kissing, more circles, more stroking and she finally began to move and arch against my hand whispering that it was starting to feel very good. Knowing better than to break the rhythm I kept my slow circling fingers moving, occasionally dipping inside get the moisture that she needed to feel comfortable. I love the sound of her breath when it begins to quicken, knowing that her orgasm is near, I kissed her lightly, delicately, tenderly across her face and she spread her legs for me begging, wordlessly, for me to help her come. "That feels really good" is all she said but it was enough. Her legs twitched, spread, and then clamped together over my fingers as her body arched as her orgasm crashed upon her. It was long and deep and made her gasp a couple of times which elicited a smile from my face that she did not see for her eyes were closed and she was panting. I knew that after her orgasm hit that I had 3 seconds to keep moving and then I had to stop. The intensity of the orgasm makes her clit extremely sensitive so I know that I must stop or I will ruin the moment with overstimulation. And so I did. It took a few minutes for her to come back to earth and I just kissed her gently around her face and neck, admiring with my lips the skin I love to touch. “Get on top of me and bite my chest.” I said, in a voice more forceful than I normally use. She reached for the bottle of lube and quickly got herself ready and climbed on top of me, took my left nipple in my mouth and bit me hard. Obviously still in the tingle of her orgasm she did not fight my request and sucked it in and brought the pain and intimacy that I wanted. Feeling her fingers between her legs, applying the lube that she needed, aroused me further in I hardened further and slipped inside her. My body has been playing tricks on me lately but tonight was a good night and I loved it. Hard and firm we went longer and longer, stopping at key moments to catch our breaths and kiss and feel each other. I made her sit up tall and squeeze me with the muscles of her body. I giggled at how tight it got. She knows, when she wants to want to, what to do to please me and tonight was a good night for both of us. I love the feel of her weight, body when I am inside. It was time to finish and I allowed myself to pick up the tempo as I kissed her deeply and took her face in my hands. With the lights of the room still on, I could see my body moving back and forth inside her and I could see the fullness of her figure above me in her hardened nipples and her beautiful face. "Keep your eyes open" I instructed her and held her face in my hands as I kissed her deeply. She knows that I like to kiss her at the moment I come and she always thinks that that's very girly of me, but I like it and I refuse to apologize for that. As my thrusting increased its pace I kissed her more and stared into her eyes and smiled and came and came and came. "Why do you like that?" “Because I want you to see me smile when I come." It had been too long and it was a wonderful moment of connection. We kissed for a while longer and then rolled off to opposite sides of the bed and staggered to the bathroom to clean up. As I wash myself off and she used the bathroom she asked, "Why don't they ever show this part in the movies?" We laughed, finished up, kissed for a while longer under the covers, and felt deeply asleep. It was a wonderful night.
I was browsing through CNN during a long and boring conference call and found an article on Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and the headline made me smile, because this is the exact way I like to make mine, with Grape Jelly!!! It's good to see the world catching up with my genius.
and, FINALLY, after what seems like years, Football is almost back!!!!
I know that neither topic (grilled cheese or football) is particularly sexy or blog-worthy, but they are making me smile, so it counts.
There is a reason I let you get on the bus before me
Geez, take a freaking shower, I know you aren't homeless, yet
Yes, you own a cell phone, goody for you, now shut the fuck up.
Hike up your skirt and sit next to me, when we go through the tunnel, lean forward.
You are not married because you are a whiny bitch who can't think. Don't blame your ex- anymore.
I see you every day, I can smell your perfume when I walk by, I ignore you because I didn't like who I became when I was with you.
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Let the driver drive. He's done this before.
Just because I flirt with you, and make you smile, doesn't mean I want to, or am trying to have sex with you.
I liked watching your boyfriend feel you up the other day as we drove home in the dark. It was very sexy and it made me hard. I think you knew I was watching.
I don't want to go home tonight, can I come stay at your place?
I'm proud of you for looking for a job, but I'll miss looking down your blouse when you are gone.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
I am afraid that some day I will just run out of things to say
That the air between us will become thick and heavy
A friend of mine, in an e-mail full of frustration and desire, inspired me with her opening paragraph, and with her generous permission, her words became mine. You get another two-fer today, I hope you enjoy them both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Version One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I wish.... I wish.... I had someone to pound me, finger me, lick me, touch me, eat me, spank me, tie me, slam me, pull me, push me, slap, gag, pry, slide, gasp, moan, whisper.....”
"Are you finally serious?"
Pent-up emotion filled her voice, "Yes, a thousand times, Yes."
"Where is he?"
"At the school, he drove all night."
Undress and wait for me."
"Hurry"
"I'll be there when I get there." I hung up and sent a text, ‘Don’t start without me.’”
Through the garage for my toolbox and spare car battery and through the kitchen for the rest.
She was ready and I began my work, checking off each item on her list. By nightfall she was lost, fevered, overwhelmed, satiated. At 8 AM, he called. I unlatched her wrist and allowed her to answer. His voice came through the earpiece as she came back to me, drifting, floating, crashing to earth.
"Yes," she said, "I am sure. I will miss you too.”
She looked up and handed me the phone, "It's your brother, he says he's going to kill you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Version Two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I wish.... I wish.... I had someone to pound me, finger me, lick me, touch me, eat me, spank me, tie me, slam me, pull me, push me, slap, gag, pry, slide, gasp, moan, whisper.....”
And so I did
pound me – To make you feel alive and well used
finger me – to explore and discover hidden places
lick me – to taste and spread and open
touch me – as lovers should, as he once did
eat me - to devour me in every way
spank me – to put me in my place
tie me – and never let me go
slam me – do you dare? Do you?
pull me – back, impale me deep
push me – into the pillows to cover my screams
slap – and show me the sting of a lover’s hand
gag – with your shaft, hard an long
pry – my heart open with your touch
slide – inside and fill me
gasp – as the moment approaches
moan – as it arrives
and
whisper, I love you, as we finish,
