This deserves a reblog, EVERY SINGLE TIME! One of the hottest things I’ve ever seen! Who wants to shoot some pool with me?
Sindress Sunday idea 😈😍😈
Yep, always a Reblog ⭐️
Well, she’s got that game in the bag.
I’m going to have to try this. So many situations where this could come in handy!
In-Between
Every morning I live for the ‘in-between.’ Those moments of
existence between sleep and waking. When I roll over and drift into lucid
dreams, my body still heavy with sleep. My mind drifting…
It is there where I remember our times together. The feel of
your hands, the scent of your skin, the taste of you. The sound of your voice. Your
words like fingers and tongues, stroking my soul. I hear your words in my imagination
and they evoke the dreamlike state I feel when I am with you. Nothing exists
outside of the connection between us. Those moments, out of space and time. A
suspended reality that seems to stretch out endlessly, and yet paradoxically,
is always over too soon.
My focus is on you. My mind, unquestioning and obedient. I
am just there, with you, and there is no outside world. No voices of judgment.
No looks of disapproval. The feel of your hands around my neck; holding my arms
above my head; or bending me over the bed and smacking my ass. The feel of your
thighs underneath my hands, the taste of you in my mouth, the sounds of your
moans filling my ears.
I am sinking down, farther, in to that place, the way I only
have ever felt with you, like water closing over my head, encircling me.
Weightless and free, quiet. The only sound
my heartbeat, and the feel of your pulse. My need to please you driving my
every thought and movement. Crossing my feet, both hands on you, the rhythm of
our bodies moving together. The praise from your lips caressing me, touching
the part of me that belongs only to you. In those moments with you I am the most
authentic version of me. In those moments, I am home.
“Have fun, even if it’s not the same kind of fun everyone else is having.”
— C.S. Lewis (via quotemadness)
I do.
She was smart, shy, a strawberry blond who was overlooked by guys when she was younger and now intimidated guys with her intelligence.
She didn’t intimate me. She also couldn’t hide that body from me. I saw straight through her conservative clothes, recognising a figure that I wanted to see naked.
The first time I called her sexy, she shrugged it off.
“I might be pretty, kinda, but I’m not sexy.”
I was stunned. She wasn’t being modest. She generally believed that she didn’t have sex appeal.
“Sexy girls are outgoing, dress provocatively, have men chasing them. I’m none of those things,” she’d said.
“Wrong. Sexy women are women of all shapes, sizes, attitudes, experience, who intrigue the mind and excite the body. You do that.”
She blushed.
I didn’t back off.
“You have me thinking about you when you’re not around. You have me fantasising about you. You make me want to explore your desires,” I said.
“What if I don’t have any sexual desires?” she asked.
“Every woman has sexual desires. Just like every man does.”
“Women aren’t encouraged to think like that. Certainly can’t talk about them,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“And you think that’s fair?”
“Not at all. It’s ridiculous,” she snapped.
“Well, don’t sit back and let society dictate what you can and can’t do.”
1 month later, to the day, we were naked, in her apartment. She was on her knees fulfilling a fantasy she’d had since that day we spoke.
This has an air of the familiar about it. 💜
Sir's submissive 