one of those gray and cold days.
with clouds and fog and overcast skies,
all together in a happy jumble of shades.
and isn't most of life a rainbow of grays?
I don't mean dull...
I mean, nothing is black and white.
there are a million possible twists on every situation,
today is a day with a different sort of feeling...
and it doesn't come from the rain, which lies heavily in the sky.
it comes from within--
originating somewhere nestled between the very top part of my thighs,
and I want to touch there,
and run my small hands over the front of my long satin nightgown...
(i do have small hands, and small feet.)
I want to think secret thoughts, and force them out of my head onto a screen in front of me...
where i can watch them with my lasik-ed hazel eyes--
it's easier than watching from inside, letting someone else make the pictures.
but then i wouldn't be able to close my eyes, and i want to...
i want to close them and run my hands all over that thin silky covering of my body,
revelling in the contrast of hard nipples on soft mounds,
and smiling at the firm muscles on my legs.
and i want to believe myself when i whisper his name...
he's here, doing this to me.
he's leaning close to me, but not quite touching.
his hands are now exploring every outside inch of me, greedily.
his breath is on my neck,
his hardness just brushed my leg as he leaned closer,
his fingers (not mine) just trailed up my arm...my neck...
(just for the sake of accuracy in reporting: i just...finished...)
(yes, I'm an easy target when properly aroused.)
my legs part, expecting him--my mind has done well to trick me.
i am picturing him, kneeling before me, rough hands on smooth thighs...
pulling aside panties, buring his face in his favorite place.
i slide down in my chair, just a little--
offering him a better feast, pressing into him.
he licks and teases and sucks and kisses...
he's really there.
i arch my back and let out a soft moan as he holds still,
enjoying the feeling of my muscles contracting against his lips and tongue.
I put my fingers in my mouth, believing that it's his mouth...
he loves the taste of me...
and no, i'm not sure why i was quite so frisky just now.
consider this Wet Wednesday.
maybe tomorrow i'll toss ya a braless tuesday, ya friggin pervs.
(yes, i realize I'm projecting my own thoughts and feelings onto you--
I'M the "friggin perv". so what??)
and don't forget to go fuck yourselves...
and for once, maybe you could buy yourself flowers after, hm?
just to be a gentleman.
hell, for that matter, buy ME flowers.
I like Lillies.