as the crow flies.....

i came, i saw, i...

2006-06-14T21:11:00.000-07:00

so i feel like you're sensing something... some change or something.. feel something big coming on? maybe you're right. i've lost my place. lost my space.

2006-04-21T13:10:00.000-07:00

you're still around huh? a few die hards left? http://flyingcrow.us/crumbs

flying south

2006-03-21T09:22:00.000-08:00

if you were here yesterday and things looked a little whacky, well it's because i'm getting ready to move. i now have my own domain... (sounds impressive, yeah?) and was importing my archives into wordpress. the importing process seems to have done something to my template or settings and i've lost my line breaks, which makes everything appear to be one long paragragh... i don't know if i'll get that fixed or not, but this site will remain as it is most likely. one of the reasons i'm moving is because i want to include joe in my blog life. i am going to tell him about my new place, let him be involved if he wants and get out of the blog-closet. comments there will be moderated for the time being and i will be tweaking it for a bit. if you would like to follow me to my new home send me an email flyingcrow at gmail dot com

2006-03-17T09:42:00.000-08:00

i am completely alone in the house. i can't even remember the last time that happened. i feel like i want to do something wicked... are you up to it?

a funny thing happened

2006-03-16T07:10:00.000-08:00

on the way to hnt this morning.... my camera has been awol for a couple weeks but it finally turned up yesterday. i found it buried on my son's desk, the batteries dead. i put some batteries in the charger last night so i could use it this morning, been outta the hnt thing for a couple weeks now. anyway, i put the fresh batteries in this morning, snapped a couple pictures and hooked the camera up to the computer. i usually preview the pictures on the camera and then move only the hnt files onto my hard drive. then i preview the files in the camera again to make sure there is nothing inappropriate left on the memory card. i'm careful. my son ain't so careful. imagine my surprise when i found pictures of my son and his girl. HOLY SHIT was the first thing that popped into my head. you can imagine the kind of pictures that would make me say that. can't you. let me be honest and tell you i didn't look at all of them. but you know the little window's preview thing in explorer... the thumbnail thing... here i am (without my glasses) staring at the screen trying to figure out what i'm looking at (kinda like some people's hnt's) and then it hits me. HOLY SHIT (kinda like some people's hnt's). i hit the kill switch on the camera. but then i still needed to move my files... i turned off the thumbnails, sorted them by date and took mine off the camera, put the dead batteries back in the camera and buried it back on my son's desk. jesus mom! now i'm laughing! so, now my dilemma. will i mention it to him? we'll see. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a little more than a year ago i wrote about braving the mall to shop for some special clothes, a small black skirt, in anticipation of a night of nastiness with a young man i was fucking at the time... i bought these shoes---> i have never worn them outside of the bedroom. the soles are like new, but they'll leave a mark in your chest... just sayin'

if he only knew...

2006-03-14T07:15:00.000-08:00

it's a little after seven o'clock in the morning and i'm sitting here listening to etta james. damn... anything to say you're mine. i told someone recently that i've never had my heart broke. it's the truth. i've had disappointments, i've had longing, i've been alone, i've been together, i had someone break my spirit, but not bad enough that i couldn't fix it. my dearest darling, i'm offering you my heart. i guess you have to give someone your heart before they can break it. and i've never really done that. 'til now. i think. i mean i know i haven't done it before, but sometimes i wonder if i'm doing it now. i've offerend up everything else i have, but am i truly giving him my heart? i want to, god i do, i can trust this man with my life... my first boyfriend, i was in the ninth grade. he beat me up on a regular basis. he was a piece of shit, but i didn't know how to get away from him. he finally found someone else to beat on. my second boyfriend was good to me. not long after i met him i found out he was moving out of state. i stayed with him until he left but when he did i don't think i even cried. there was another, i fucked him every chance i got, i thought i loved him, but he was a wanderer and when i found out he had knocked up my next door neighbor i wasn't surprised, i was even a bit relieved. another, he was a boy friend. we sat next to each other in art class for two years. we hung out, got high, talked about our aspirations. i loved him and i know he loved me but the first time he kissed me i pulled away from him. i didn't want to wreck what i had with him. there were a lot of things he didn't know about me, things i didn't want him to know. i loved the way he looked at me and i was afraid if he knew, if he only knew, he wouldn't look at me that way. he drifted away from me and i let him. there were others that served their purpose for me and i for them, i can see their faces, but their names mostly escape me now. then there was my ex, you've heard part of that story. i'm past him and have written enough about it. after i finally pried him loose i turned to men that i knew had other plans, plans that didn't include me except for fucking. men that knew i had other plans too. it was a perfect arrangement for me. then i met joe. and i was conflicted. i thought i resolved it, but there are times when i'm not sure. i have connected to this man like i have no other. like i doubt i ever could with anyone else. i set out from the beginning to be utterly, brutally honest with him. but there are still things he doesn't know, not things in the past, things in the present. at last my love has come along... i don't doubt him for a second. but there are things that i do that make me doubt myself.

i just wanted

2006-03-13T09:03:00.000-08:00

to let you all know i'm okay, we're okay. other than all of us being sick, and the tension around here last week made us all a little snappy, we're peachy. the kid is still on the street somewhere. they have issued a third warrant for him. the cops never did show up here, but i figure they will just about the time we all relax. it's not that we have anything to hide, it's just the thought of them coming in my house. it's not something you want to wake up to. i feel like i have to wear clothes to bed...

waiting

2006-03-09T08:25:00.000-08:00

what you gonna do when the man comes...

2006-03-09T06:59:00.000-08:00

i'm sitting here waiting for the cops to show up. i waited for them all day yesterday. i'm afraid to leave my house. i don't want them to show up when i'm not here. joe's son left here monday night with his stuff. there has been a second warrant issued for him. his mom called me yesterday to tell me that the cops had been to her old apartment looking for him and as we were talking her daughter called hysterical because they had come into her house, they went into her brother's bedroom while his wife and baby were sleeping, with their guns drawn. they'll be here. it's a matter of time. this morning, tonight... i don't know. every time i drifted off to sleep last night i dreamed about him. every time the dog barked, a door closed or a car went by i was awake. me and joe laid in the quiet, holding hands and waiting. his dad put the word out yesterday and he called this morning. we both talked to him, he needs to know how his actions, or inactions, are affecting all of us. his mother, his brother and sisters, their families, me, joe, my kids, the people that live and work in this house. i am sad for him and pissed at him at the same time. it worries me that there has been a history of violence here, because of my ex. joe is an ex-con, my son in law is currently in prison. i have a large piece of property and i'm thinking when they come here there will be a lot of them. i worry about the dogs, i worry...

no bail

2006-03-06T08:40:00.000-08:00

the kid didn't come home last night. he left yesterday with "a friend". he was supposed to work this morning. joe asked me to check the sheriff website and see if he got picked up. he is not listed as being in jail, but the court has issued a bench warrant for his arrest. his violation of probation has finally caught up with him. i am shaking as i type this. he's been doing good the last few weeks. working, helping around the house. he's been happy. his eyes are clear, he's been gaining weight. dammit.

an understanding

2006-03-01T13:43:00.000-08:00

if i seem distant, it's not because i am in the physical sense, but because my business partner is leaving today and will be gone for about three weeks. he deals mostly with our customers, doing quotes and correspondence, which means i will be spending much more time at the computer than i will in the shop. and i need to discipline myself regarding work, blog hopping, posting and gratuitous nudity. i don't really like dealing with customers, although it is something i need to learn to get used to, as i am expecting my partner to retire before too long. there are several changes i would make to the way things are done here and it would be so much simpler to implement those changes if i didn't have to convince him that we are in a new millennium.... change is good, but it fucks with my head sometimes. which is most likely the reason i had been unable to get a nut for three days. three fucking days. i'm spoiled, have been for some time. and yeah, it is all what you're used to. joe and i love sex, we crave it, we are admittedly obsessed with it. it is one of the reasons we are together. we keep up with each other, physically. we don't take each other's shortcummings personally. and we know how to mind fuck one another. that was a learning process for me, but it didn't take me long to figure it out. sometimes our fucking is purely a physical release for one or both of us. i can use him as well as he uses me. sometimes we can make love for hours, fully dressed without any more contact than a whispered breath. so, here i was, all pent up. fuck. joe looking at me funny. me assuring him that it's just me, just temporary... fuck. it's frustrating and that doesn't help. ever feel like a watched pot? a watched pot just simmering for days and every time you lift the lid, just a little bit, just to check... last night we went out drinking a bit. him a bit more than me. i drive so i keep a close check on myself. even a little, drinking doesn't help my perpetual horniness. we shot pool in the bar, one handed, i was sharp as a razor. readily beating men that six months ago wouldn't have given me a second thought. by the time we got home, which was, on my part, purposely early, i was in a cocky mood. i took joe by the front of his shirt, told him i needed to him take out his teeth, get on his knees and lick me 'til i came. don't put a drunk man on his knees and ask him to lean his head back, unless you are prepared to hold him up. it's not pretty. "what are you going to do if i pass out on you?" get out my big purple dick and fuck myself raw "god damn baby, i wanna watch that, that just might get my dick hard. you get started, i gotta go take a piss..." i started, without him, lubed up the big dick, slid it inside me, turned the vibrator on low, laid there and waited for him to come back... and waited... low hum coming from my loins...and waited... he finally stumbled back to the bedroom and fell into the bed, put his arm over my chest and closed his eyes. you fucker. are you going to go to sleep while i've got this dildo hanging outta me? "hmmmm? not if i can help it." he lent me a hand, but the alcohol got the best of him and he finally passed out on me. oh well. i expected as much, really, and turned off the vibrator, leaving it inside of me and laid there for a while with his head on my chest. it was quiet in the house. joe's soft snores, my pussy throbbing so bad i swear i could hear it. i need to get a nut... it took me a long time, but i'm nothing if not persistent. flipping the switch from high to low, fast and slow, stopping and starting, a little more lube... damn it. cleansing breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, relax honey... finally, me and deep purple came to an understanding, my arm around joe's neck, his head still on my chest. he must have sensed something unconsciously, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. i almost went to sleep with my purple boyfriend still inside me. i woke up this morning with my husband inside me. he gets ornery when he has a bit of a hanger... "did you get a nut last night?" yeah, i did. "good. get ready to get another..." and yeah, i did.

the other shoe

2006-02-28T07:20:00.000-08:00

so, this johari thing has me thinking. first, i agree with you. it is hard to pick only five or six of these adjectives. they are certainly all traits most of us (i'm not meaning the general "us", i mean us, you and me) have to some degree or another. so we pick the ones that are more important to us. at this point in our lives. seven people participated in my johari window. 57% of people agree that flyingcrow is loving 71% of people think that flyingcrow is trustworthy 71% of people think that flyingcrow is wise thank you very much. two of those i didn't choose for myself. the ones i picked, accepting, loving, patient, reflective, adaptable, are obvious i suppose, if you know me, except the last one. adaptable was the only one i chose that no one else picked. that trait is what has allowed me to get through some things in my life that may have otherwise made me crazy. well, crazier than i am. wise. this one i didn't even consider. not that i feel that i am not wise about some things. if you are paying any attention at all, wisdom comes with age and experience, and i have more of this than most of you. i've been around the block enough times to know that three rights make a left... do you consciously set about to become wise? i mean, if you're not the dali lama? trustworthy. hmm. i almost picked it. then didn't. you can trust me, but there are things with which i don't trust myself... do ya have the balls to look at the other side of me and tell me what you see? i'm calling ya out...

i woke up

2006-02-24T09:46:00.000-08:00

thinking of my grandmother last night. well, not really thinking about her but with the smell of her in my nostrils. the smell of her rosewater soap. smell is a powerful mental ass kicker for me. my grandma died when i was twenty, my grandpa when i was twelve. and sometimes i still miss them terribly. my grandparents met in a bar in the early 1930's. they had both been married once before and both had one child. my grandpa was a lieutenant colonel in the marine corp. he joined in 1917 and retired in the fifties. i remember the stories he used to tell, the places he had been. he never spoke of the battles he had seen, only the beauty, the comedy, the adventures. i remember the sparkle in his eyes as he would talk... they drank scotch every night and we would all sit at the dining room table after dinner. he didn't sit at the traditional head of the table, he sat at the wide side of the table where he had a view of the kitchen and the living room. he was king of his castle, but ruled it with a gentle hand, one that could cup the side of your face as he kissed your forehead. my grandpa was a small man of welsh descent, he stood 5'4" and was trim his whole life. my grandma was a big woman who's swedish ancestors had walked from new york to the great salt lake and then on to california. her grandmother was born in sacramento just before the gold rush. my grandpa was an atheist, my grandma's family were mormon. they were an odd couple and they were madly in love. everyday, every minute, of their lives together. after he died she waited, patiently everyday, for eight years to join him my grandma had my father when she was forty. he was their only child and they cherished him. my parents met when they were eleven. they were best friends and married in january of the year they turned twenty. i was born february of the next year. my brother, summer of the following year. the next winter my father was killed in a traffic accident on his way to work. he was on a motorcycle, took a turn too wide, the truck coming the other way took it not wide enough. he was twenty two. his death devastated them. i know that now. i knew it when i was young, subconsciously, but it never affected how they loved us. they rarely spoke of my father, neither did my mother. i remember when something would come up about him my grandmother would whisper his name, "eddie" and her head would bow, her shoulders would slump and the conversation would end. it was only when i was older and spoke to other members of my family did i really begin to know anything about him. another story… my grandpa built a house in the high desert after he retired. it was a small house, surrounded by a canopy of oak trees with a cushion of dichondra below them. my grandpa had a rose garden, my grandma made potpourri from the petals and stored it in jars that my grandpa had collected from all over the world during his military career. i have two of those jars, one from palestine and one from japan, that still contain her rose petals. grandpa was a voracious reader, and earned his masters in history at the age of sixty three. i have his thesis on the civil war. my grandma painted, most of her paintings were of the desert that surrounded their home. i inherited their loves, books, art and the quiet beauty of the earth. when i spent time with them without my mother or brother, my grandma let me sleep in bed with her. they had separate twin beds. i loved the sound of my grandpa's soft snores and the ticking of the old big ben alarm clock they had. waking up in the morning, i would lay there and listen to all the birds outside the high louvered windows of their room. i was in heaven there, then. and after more than forty years the smell of rosewater takes me right back there.

a solicited sex post

2006-02-23T08:39:00.000-08:00

we lay together chest to chest, his hand tracing my spine and the curve of my ass, his lips brushing my face. dreamy, feeling the effects of the hash and skin, bare flesh to bare flesh. his breath, his soft words and moans, i feel them more that hear them, the gentle vibration of them echoing back to him through my body. i slide my leg up and bury my thigh in the heat of him, his balls loose and warm, he hooks his foot up under mine and pulls my leg tighter to him as i feel him press himself to me. "god damn baby" he squeezes my ass and pulls my thong up my back, the black silky fabric of it buried in my folds. i feel the heat building in me, my wetness, my clit starting to throb... my mind floats there as he pulls the thong tighter, the pressure of it, the throbbing increases as he slides his leg between mine. i reach back behind me and grab his knee as i gently rock my hips and press my clit to his thigh, oh yeah... "use me baby" mmmm time slows down or speeds up, i'm not sure which, all i think about is his thigh there, my wetness soaking thru the silk and onto his skin, my need increasing but savoring the friction there. his soft words, they reach into me "use me baby. feels so good doesn't it baby. use me, harder baby" i look into his eyes as i rock against him, harder, grinding my clit into his leg, harder, jesus christ, i feel myself wanting to cum as he pulls his leg away and rolls me onto my back. i move to slip off my panties, ready to have him fuck me, "no. leave them on. feel how wet you are" as he caresses me through the silk, he takes my hand and guides it to my pussy. i slip my hand under the silk, he pulls it back out, "no, not yet, finger yourself through your panties, rub your clit..." i follow his instructions, he knows me, sometimes i think he knows me better than i know myself, and he only has to tell me, i'll do whatever he wants. and he knows it. he slides down the bed, his face hovering over my pussy as i rub my clit with one finger. "i love to watch you, love the way your hips move, the way your hand moves." i need to touch myself, need the feeling of my own flesh and slip my hand into my panties again, only to have him stop me again. "not yet, baby, not yet." god damn... he kisses my thigh, as i finger my clit through my soaking panties, "i love the smell of you, you're so wet." "slip your finger in the side of your panties, slide one finger inside your pussy," i do what he tells me. i do it for him, as he watches, his face inches from my pussy. and i do it for myself. slowly, although it's not what i think i want, but he knows me... "feels nice, yeah baby?" he pulls my hand to his face and sucks the wet off my fingers, "sweet juice, mmm" "two fingers now baby" two fingers now... damn, i can't get them deep enough, fuck me baby "not yet baby, i want to see you cum first, i want to fuck you wet" i reach down with my other hand and rub my clit while my fingers reach inside me, but not nearly enough. i feel his hot breath on my leg and i curse him, you fucker... "that's right baby, you ain't getting it yet, cum for me, cum for me..." i know he means it, i know he won't fuck me until after i cum, and it's all i can think about. him fucking me, him inside me. i'm getting more frustrated, his face there, his breath. what if i don't cum? god damn him... then i get that feeling in my gut, that buzzing tenseness, the tingle in my thighs, the feeling that comes just before, and now i want to make that last longer, deprive him of what he wants even though i want it too. he watches me as i cum, as my legs straighten and my hands slow, then he grabs my hips, rolls me over quickly and hoists my ass into the air, "fuck yeah baby, that's what i wanted," i moan as he slams his cock into me and i cum all over again...

chump

2006-02-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

well, joe's son just left to work with my racing friend. it's an opportunity for him. i hope he doesn't blow it. it's been a little tense around here the last week or so. late night phone calls and the like... joe's kid is getting a little too confident in his situation here. saturday night he used my tattoo gun to do a tat on a friend of his brother's. it turned into an all night affair and several times i woke up to find strange folks in my house. joe got up about 4:30 in the morning and found some guy sitting at my computer. he was pissed. he had words with the guy and later had words with his kid. later that morning the kid told me he wanted to give me some of the money he had made doing the tattoo and when he took out the money, a tiny ziplock bag fell out of his pocket. he scooped it up and put it back in his pocket without ever looking me in the face. it didn't know how to react. i didn't react. i took the money from him, thinking i would confront him later. i didn't tell joe. that was a mistake. we talked later about the people that have started showing up around here, how we're both uncomfortable with it. joe tells me he knows the kid is on the shit again but he's pretty sure he's not bringing it to the house. then i couldn't look him in the face... i didn't know how to tell him. yesterday afternoon my daughter came to me with that look, "come on mom, let's go out and have a smoke". she told me that her and my son are worried about the kind of people that are coming here. how they can see when joe's son and his friends are flying on the shit... then she told me that late saturday night she had seen joe's son with the glass pipe, "and mom, you know that i know the difference". she said that when she saw him take the pipe out of a backpack she walked straight over to him and looked at his hand. she wanted him to know she had seen it. he casually started talking to her while he tried to hide the pipe in his sleeve. she said she shook her head and walked away. i told her that i had seen the baggy that had fallen out of his pocket. and that i hadn't told joe. she looked at me and said it was different in the beginning when he first came here, she knew he didn't have anywhere else to go and she knew he needed a chance, but now after the things that had happened and the fact that none of us had confronted him she felt like he was playing us all for chumps. and she was exactly right. when we went back into the house he was sitting on the couch, i went straight to him and told him we needed to talk. but i did all the talking. i laid it all out for him and told him he needed to talk to his dad about what was going on, about what i had seen. he almost balked at me when i told him my girl had seen him with the pipe, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. he never looked at me. his dad came home ten minutes later. i tried to keep busy after kissing him hello. we had talked earlier that day about putting a stop to the late night visitors and phone calls, and i stayed inside while they went out front to talk. after a half an hour or so they came in the kitchen where i was making some hot chocolate. they were both looking at me and i was trying to read their faces, trying to figure what had been said. when the kid hugged me and told me he was sorry, i hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek. it wasn't until later that i realized he hadn't said anything to his dad about our talk. so i told joe, everything, and apologized for not telling him sooner. shit. man, i'm trying with this kid. me and my kids have a trust between us. we have been through shit together and come out the other side. i know it was hard for joe here in the beginning. i know he felt like an outsider. i know my kids were suspicious of him, his intentions. everything happened so fast with us. but they are building a relationship with joe, mutual respect and everyone is starting to feel secure and comfortable in their place here. we all moved over a little and made space for this kid. like birds on a wire... it was a long night. we talked with him, we talked with my kids. we talked about how it feels when you are trying to help someone who doesn't want to help themselves. how you start feeling used and unsympathetic. how something that can feel so good can suck you down into a hole that is hard to climb out of. and how you have to decide if you want to be in that hole by yourself or let someone else help you out of it. when we finally went to bed last night all the kids were talking in my son's room. he was sleeping on the couch when i got up this morning. i cooked him and joe breakfast. joe left for work with an apprehensive look on his face. my friend showed up a few minutes later to take the kid to work with him. i hugged him goodbye and looked him in the face. he looked back at me like he understood. i hope he does. this is his last chance. with me. fuck.

if the shoe fits...

2006-02-21T10:09:00.000-08:00

cause i don't have much else this morning. monkey did this, and i thought it was cool. stroke me or spank me i wanna see what you see. k?

true love is

2006-02-20T08:37:00.000-08:00

someone who holds your hair back for you while you puke.... skyy vodka and corona chasers. you would think at my age i would know better. i guess it's just something i need to do once a year or so. to remind me of the virtues of a clean toilet. i kept waiting for the cold in my head to kick my ass. but it didn't. it has stayed firmly planted between my eyeballs, which affects my thought processes, but the rest of me feels fine. it finally rained here. we didn't get near enough but it was something. it was enough to wash down the driveway and put a little pep into the yard. the lilies are coming up this morning, now i just need to keep the snails out of them. buggers. true love is sharing a double bed and thinking that it's too big. my bed does tricks. it will prop you up or jack you up at the touch of a button. with the remote in my hand i can raise the foot of my bed up to just the right height so i can wrap my ankles around his neck and the head of his cock is, oh, right, ah, there... or i can raise the knee up as i lay on my belly and it points my ass towards heaven as my head hangs over the edge... or i can raise the head of it as i lay back with him kneeling in front of me, clutching the sides of the mattress... clutching. i like that word.

i need a vision quest

2006-02-17T07:29:00.000-08:00

it's hard to suck cock when your nose is plugged up. gotta find the vaporub... tell me baby, what's a good ratio of vodka to advil? i felt it coming on yesterday. i denied it, it's just allergies stirred up by the wind. and the fucking hangover. he says, "you're getting sick" nah he nods his head, i shake mine "mmm hmmmm" no. i'm not "yes. you are. we'll stay home this weekend so i can take care of you. pamper you." hmm, okay, i'm getting sick. it's supposed to rain here this weekend. we need it bad. it's crunchy here. my roof leaks, but i tend to forget that until i step in the puddle. yesterday i put a new quote on the fridge. one of whitey's. he's one of the one's i put on the fridge. "the rules with which i govern my life are few and flexible, because shit's fucked up and you gotta be ready and willing to adapt." i spent an hour and a half on the porch with my girl. she came down to the shop with that look on her face. the one that tells me she needs her mama. we held hands and sat quiet for a few minutes while i waited for her to find her words. her eyes well up and her lip quivers, i wrap her up and she cries. her husband was in the county jail for almost a year before he went to the state prison. he got involved with a group of skinheads in county. sometimes you do what you do to survive. to survive the moment. and then what? she tells me that this group wants him to do something that will get him in trouble, something that will cost him his job, add more time to his sentence, put him in the hole. he called and told her this, told her he made his choice, he told them no. he wanted her to know that if something happens to him it's because he's trying to do the right thing. she knows anything can happen. she looks at me and says "what if we go through all of this and it ends up sad?" she talks about my mother. my father died when i was two. she never remarried. she has been alone for forty five years. i tell my girl that my mother made that choice, she clung to her grief so long and hard that for a long time she shut most everyone out of her heart. it's what she felt she needed to do to survive it. my girl wants to have a baby. his baby. we talked about this before, talked about how she needs to wait until he gets out so it's their baby, so he can be part of it. she looked at me and said "i know that, in my heart, but what if something happens to him? then i wouldn't have anything..." sometimes the things that cause us to cling to something are the same things that may cause us to push them away later. i wish i could tell her that everything will be okay. it very well may not. we talked for along time and she said "where'd you find that quote on the fridge?" there's this kid, he broadcasts live out of san diego...

the results are in....

2006-02-16T08:01:00.000-08:00

i have a fucking hangover this morning. i mean a fucking hangover, a hangover from fucking. you people make me crazy. crazier. i had a few minutes to myself yesterday so i went to check out a few links offered up by someone who has, well, similar interests as i do. chuck. chuck recently got his first piece of ass. yay chuck! i was already in a mood and his casual commentary on the subject of ass fucking just hit me in the right places. hehe oh, by the way, the results are in.... and what a perfect day to announce the winner! i'm conceding to the naked one. whew girl... you are luscious in more ways than one. the rest of you, be jealous. i got to see 'em. this is the runner up and in my opinion, deserves a sound tongue lashing. anyway, back to yesterday. later i had an arousing email exchange with someone regarding freight trains and parking lots. you had to be there. i'm sorry i was not. back to work. then the man comes home. i'm in the shop cutting stainless steel on the bandsaw, probably not a good idea considering my state of mind. he waited until i finished and came up behind me, put his hands on my hips and kissed my neck. i leaned my head back and whispered to him i need to suck your cock. that started it.

bloody turnips

2006-02-15T14:03:00.000-08:00

fucker. i shouldn't call him that. lately i've been using that word in an affectionate way. how about bitch? that's a more fitting word. isn't that you call a nagging ex calling about their past due alimony?

that's a lot

2006-02-14T08:18:00.000-08:00

well kiddies, here we are a year later. damn. my first post, this day, last year. the day after my 46th birthday. this is part of it, i have been writing in various notebooks for the last 18 months or so. it began about the time i decided to end my 22 year marriage. i kept a diary of sorts when i was younger, but stopped when i got involved with the man i married, i realize now it was mostly out of fear he would find them. i know that he never really knew me, he never wanted to really, and that i didn’t want him to. maybe i didn’t want to know myself anymore. i remember feeling that so many things were out of my hands, out of my control, it seemed easier to hand it all over to someone else. i am in the process of claiming my life. i won’t say reclaiming it because i’m not sure i ever really claimed it in the first place. i was hardly present. i was more like a spectator, at times maybe a witness, and later i was like that person that just closes the window when the screams get too loud. ~~~~~~ two days later a good friend of mine died. of cancer. we knew he was dying and i spent as much time with him as i could the last few months of his life. we had grown up together. we lost contact over the course of our family lives, but we never lost touch. i wrote his eulogy here. i've written more than i ever thought was possible for me. i write about my life mostly and how the people around me affect my life. i don't write much about current events because i don't pay attention to them. i write about sex. yeah, i do. i like it. i pay attention to it. i got an annonymous comment the other day, to a rambling post.... "Laine, you are a modern philospher, poet and priestess. You put into words all the things the heart feels but cannot say. More souls than you know visit your doorstep, and mine is among them. Thank you." man, that kind of thing could go to a person's head. really. you are welcome, and welcome here. and thank you. i am a forty seven year old woman. i have a past and a future. i don't have many expectations. maybe that could be construed as a bad thing, but it's not for me. i trust. i believe in spirit. i don't hold on real tight. there are a lot of things i still want to do and i know i probably will never get around to most of them. and that's okay. i do have a few regrets, but not many. i try not to live my life like every day is the last day, but more like the it's the first day, not worrying about the things i'm going to miss, but looking forward to the things i haven't seen yet. i am the mother of dragons, the wife of a wolf, a friend to lions and lambs, the caretaker of a commune. it took me a long time to realise that that's a lot.

i taste good

2006-02-13T11:10:00.000-08:00

so, i wwanted to write while i was high, just to read it later. i think i'll leave the typos in, that'll add to it. it's fucking hot here. santa ana winds. i'm sitting here on the bed, with laptop, joe is feeding me black cherry ice cream, the ceiling fan in on full blast. my nose is dry from the weather and my throat was dry from the hash. i stood up on the bed and sucked the dust off the ceiling fan with vacuum. fun when your high. i stood in the kitchen and talked with the kids about i can't quite remember right now. joe had a bad asthma attack yesterday. it scares me. he's stubborn. he coughed and wheezed all night and then this morning he let me take him to urgent care. we were in and out pretty quick, the doctor was cute, four presriptions, finger shaking at joe, sideways looks at me. oh, i remember, we talked about my son's girlfriend's toothache. i need a shower. one of those kinds of showers. i got a little drunk friday afternoon. me and my girlfriend sitting on the front porch, talking shit and glass dildos. my girl just came home. from seeing her husband. she's wearing a t-shirt that says "i love strippers". i tell her that it surprises me that they would let her in to visit wearing that shirt. she says "oh, the cops love it. i just tell them "it's a mutual thing, they like me too". she fucking slays me. i'm telling ya. the dog is licking cocoa butter off my leg, then looks at me with his eyes full of cataracts. i wonder if i look gray to him. well, at least i taste good. i love the sound of the windchimes. my girl gave me one made from thin pieces of shell. they and light and move with the slightest breeze. the sound they make is gentle. some nights when i wake and hear them i somtimes wonder if it's raining. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ now i'm not high and it still makes sense to me.

it's the 13th and

2006-02-13T09:01:00.000-08:00

all this talk of ben wa and big guns has got my freak flag up today...

every so often...

2006-02-10T09:37:00.000-08:00

i have a date tonight. we're not going out. we're staying in. just me and the man and a bowl of hash. it's something we do every so often. yeah... the weather here has been spectacular. sunny days, warm winds from the east, tank topped, bare footed weather. i sat in the sun yesterday, with all my critters around me. and i needed that sun yesterday. i wish i could share it with some of you. i know it was dark and cold in places out there, but spring is coming. hang on. okay? the privet is blooming in my yard. i love the small pink blossoms. the feel of them in my fingers... this man of mine, my baby, he fills me to overflowing sometimes. the look in his eyes, the little smile on his face when i look up at him, my head in his lap, his hands in my hair. yesterday when i was sitting in the sun, i watched the happy critters around me, rolling in the grass, stretching in the sun. they amaze me. that they allow me to be part of their lives. every one of them is different, in their regard for me. some seem blissfully ignorant of my trials, others seem to mirror my moods. it is the same with the people that live here. all together, eighteen souls call this place home. eighteen. i counted, yesterday. the last time we did hash, we ate hershey bars and spent two hours kissing, tasting the chocolate on each other's tongues.... you know, i've lusted after all of you.

moments

2006-02-08T08:40:00.000-08:00

i have no time on my hands. only moments, bits stuck under my fingernails that need to be pried loose with tip of a sharp knife. we went to court with the kid on monday. niether of us slept worth a shit the night before, waiting for the sound of the front door that would let us know he came home. the door didn't open. he showed up here forty minutes before he was to be in court. he was nervious, pacing, trying to find a shirt to wear, deciding whether to take his wallet, old shoes or new shoes... then hours waiting in the court house to find out that the court has not yet filed a case against him. they have up to a year to file. wait for a notice from the court. joe is sick with the flu. i think everything caught up with him, and it's kicking him in the ass. i spent the night trying to pull some of the heat off of him. he would lay up against my back, his hot against my cool, and when we evened out, we would turn over and i would lay against his back and lay my cool hand on his hot chest. joe's kid is sleeping on the couch. he talks in his sleep. sometimes i wish i couldn't make out what he says. i can't make payroll this week. accounts receivable, but not received. i'm losing my desire to this anymore. i know i'm tired and this will pass. i'm trying to pull myself up by my mental bootstraps this morning. bleh. my daughter showed me pictures of her and her husband. i cried when i saw them. i have not yet met my son in law. i have spoken to him on the phone. he is in prison. and will be for fifteen more months. i cried because of the look on their faces in the pictures, i've never seen her so happy. i never expected that i would feel right about my daughter having a jailhouse marriage. but you have to know my daughter, and i know her. she's a dragon. she's one of my blessings and my blessings are too numerous to count. you are amoung them.

no blushing....

2006-02-03T14:55:00.000-08:00

i left the book on their bed when they went out to get some lunch. i left a post-it on the cover that said "i have volume 2 also....." they came home and after a few minutes they went back into the bedroom. it was quiet for a little while, then they came out and told me that they were going out to see some friends. they stood there for a few seconds and then my son's girlfriend looks at me and says to me "so, was the book, um, was that from you?" i nodded at her... "cool! thanks!" i explained that i had see the other one on the bed and thought this other book was more fitting. they aggreed. ;-)

we'll see who blushes

2006-02-03T09:38:00.000-08:00

years ago i bought a book titled "how to have sex with the same person for the rest of your life" yeah, i know. i was delusional then, thinking that's what i was supposed to do. anyway, yesterday i was in my son's room talking to his girlfriend and as i was walking out i noticed the book sitting on his bed. i didn't let on that i saw it, but i was chuckling to myself. i think today i will leave "the joy of sex" on his bed. lol!

hey lo...

2006-02-02T07:52:00.000-08:00

i have one. it's not gold though. it's silver...

a dirty world

2006-02-01T07:11:00.000-08:00

joe was a bit late getting off to work this morning. he was ornery. he gets that way when he's hung over.... the radio alarm wasn't loud enough to wake him when is usually does and i can sleep through an earthquake. his hard dick is what usually wakes me up. this morning i woke up to him on top of me biting my neck and growling in my ear "fuck me baby" shit, it's late "fuck me baby" you're gonna be late for work "fuck me baby" i reached down and grabbed his cock, soft in my hand. as soon as i touched him he growled again "fuck me baby" i stroked his cock, thumb on top, two fingers underneath, down low, close to his balls. he fucked my hand until his cock was hard enough that i was able to guide into me. "god, i love being inside your hot pussy" i know from his soft cock and his tone of voice he's in one of those moods. one of those moods where once his cock gets hard he could fuck me all morning.... ornery. last night his son was here. he's been staying here off and on, sleeping on the couch when the street gets to be too much. he has a court date on monday. we all think he will be going back to jail for violation of his probation. he may be looking a nine months. but he's looking it square in the face and he says he's ready to go if that's what it comes to. he says it will give him another chance to get healthy. we all had dinner together, a houseful of us. drank beer, shot pool, played the stereo loud. it's a good thing my neighbors are not too close. you know me and joe are very affectionate with each other, you know we ain't shy, always kissing, dancing around the house, catcalling and whistling at each other, shaking our asses at each other. my kids are used to it now. and it's been good for them to witness it since there was never much affection between me and their dad. but joe's son still blushes at us, he says "you guys are out of control..." the traveling wilburys are on the stereo, good partying music, and then our song comes on. we start it over and turn up the volume. we dance and sing to each other while all the kids watch, our song..... he loves your sexy body, he loves your dirty mind he loves when you hold him, grab him from behind oh baby, you’re such a pretty thing i can’t wait to introduce you to the other members of my gang you don’t need no wax job, you’re smooth enough for me if you need your oil changed i’ll do it for you free oh baby, the pleasure'd be all mine if you let me drive your pickup truck and park it where the sun don’t shine every time he touches you his hair stands up on end his legs begin to quiver and his mind begins to bend oh baby, you’re such a tasty treat but i’m under doctor’s orders, i’m afraid to overeat he loves your sense of humor, disposition too there’s absolutely nothing that he don’t love about you oh baby, i’m on my hands and knees life would be so simple if i only had you to please oh baby, turn around and say goodbye you going to the airport now and i’m going home and cry he loves your electric dumplings he loves your red bell peppers he loves your fuel injection he loves your service charge he loves your five speed gearbox he loves your long endurance he loves your quest for junk food he loves your big refrigerator he loves your trembling wilbury he loves your marble earrings he loves your porky curtains he loves your power steering he loves your bottled water he loves your parts and service dirty world, a dirty world, it’s a ...ing dirty world by the time it's over the kids are laughing their asses off. my son hugs me and tells me that song will never be the same to him, my crazy mama... later i notice that joe and his son have disappeared. i find them in our bedroom, sitting on the bed. both of them are red eyed. his son is telling him "man, i'm not going to forget you, you'll get a letter from me everyday. and you'll be the first person i see when i get out, because i know you'll be there waiting there at the gate to bring me home." joe could not speak. i climbed up on the bed, sat behind him and put my arms around him. i could see the sorrow in his son's face. he looked at me, pleading with me with his eyes. it was all i could not to cry. i told him to go spend some time with his girl, that i would take care of his dad. joe patted him on the leg and nodded his head. his son leaned over and wrapped his arms around joe, kissed him on the cheek told him he loved him. he stood up and looked at me, the question in his eyes, i nodded to him. he squeezed his dad's hand and walked out of the room. and i felt some of the life just seem to go out of him. i got him up and helped him undress, he went to sleep with his hot face on my chest. i laid awake a long time trying not to imagine what i would feel like in his place. and i ached.

a good number...

2006-01-31T09:25:00.000-08:00

next tuesday is my six month wedding anniversary. man, time flies. i've been trying to think of something special to do for joe. this morning i decided. i'm giving him a book. the story of us. i copy and pasted every single post i've written about him, about us, into a word document. i'm going to put it into a binder. one that will let me add to it later. he's already read them all, he has notepad versions of all of them in his underwear drawer. folded and dog-eared. the title of the book will be the same as one of my posts. it's still unfolding... bound in leather and tied up with a ribbon. so far it is sixty nine pages long. 69

i listen to you

2006-01-30T08:36:00.000-08:00

i do. lucinda. baby, sweet baby....

brown eyes

2006-01-28T08:53:00.000-08:00

today is my step daughter's 21st birthday. joe calls her brown eyes. last night we got drunk together. she told me she's trying to decide whether or not to get back with her ex-boyfriend. she had been with him for two years. she said he was her first real love. i told her that most times the first one is not the best one. she said that they are friends but honestly he doesn't get her wet anymore. i told her it sounded to me like it was time for her to move on. things like that don't usually get better...

random tomatoes

2006-01-27T12:39:00.000-08:00

i woke up this morning in a mood. not sure why, maybe a dream that i can't remember right now. we'll see if it comes to me later. but i am on edge today. maybe i shouldn't use that word. edge. it has become a different type of noun to me. funny how that is. i was reading an article yesterday, i didn't get to finish it so i didn't get to the conclusion, but i don't really like conclusions anyway so no matter. it had to do with love and the chemical reactions in our brain. how it affects our serotonin levels, makes us crazy for a while and then wears off. does it always wear off? what if you were already crazy? i'm not talking certifiable here, i'm talking obsessive, compulsive. does the love thing give us crazy people a specific target? and what if both people were already crazy... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i don't need you. i want you. you think you need me. you don't. don't let the thought that you might lose me make you crazy. let the thought that you have me make you crazy. don't need me, you'll drive me away. i understand that you may feel insecure. with me. it's not me that holds the reigns on your security. it's you. there are things i want that you can't give me. but i won't hold it against you, so don't hold it against yourself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ and another funny thing, i've been craving tomatoes.....

look into my windows....

2006-01-26T07:23:00.000-08:00

yeah, i know ima fucking tease. deal with it. so, i won't be doing hnt today. hardly posted this week and it's already thursday... yesterday i was standing by my desk talking to someone and there came a loud pop from computer.... fuck. i recently got a new 19" flat screen monitor (i love it btw, now i can see more of you at one time) and it sounded like the pop came from the monitor. i caught a whiff of burnt electronics as my computer rebooted and then shut down completely. fuck. i unplugged it, and starting sniffing around to see if i could identify the source of burnt. last week windows crashed, in a big way, failed to start, which led me to reinstall windows and consequently almost every other program i use. but i had good back ups (learned that the hard way, let me tell you), my work files, documents, pictures, music, text files (guess what's in the text files) and all the important stuff are on two hard drives. do yourself a favor and never put anything you value in windows "my documents" folder. just sayin' anyway, my conclusion is that something popped in the power supply, a fairly cheap fix and easily changed. so pull off the cover, blow out the dust, pop in the new power supply and viola! the computer started, thank the goddess of integrated circuits, but windows again failed to start. fuck. damn the software gods.... recovery hangs, reinstall windows. i'm getting good at this, and i have all my install disks right at hand. so this morning i will be reinstalling most all my software (right after i check on you) norton registry tweaks apc winamp autocad adobe word excel eudora photoimpact.... right now my windows is half-nekkid. does that count?

hurt so good...

2006-01-24T08:08:00.000-08:00

i had to wait. and so do you. in the meantime i'll show you what i did to myself on saturday night. it hurt so good.... and the posistion i was in while i did this made my legs shake and my foot go numb. the result is a little shaky and as yet, unfinished. it's different when you do this to yourself because you feel it from both ends.

not yet

2006-01-20T12:20:00.000-08:00

the rest of the night he acted like nothing had happened. and so did i, except for the occasional sideways glance, and we went to sleep with my head on his shoulder. our alarm goes off at five a.m. every weekday morning. an hour before we have to get up and start getting ready for the day. we fuck every morning. and i mean we fuck. every morning. he always wakes up hard and i always wake up wet. in the morning there are usually no words, just breath. no eye contact, no wet kisses, just hands and mouths and flesh and bone and fingernails. this morning he woke me before the alarm went off, rolling me over and thumbing my soft, sleep warmed nipple in his hand. i had been dreaming about his cock in the crack of my ass, slick with his spit, sliding up and down, his hand on my hip and his breath on my back of my neck. maybe i wasn't dreaming, but it doesn't matter, the result is the same. i was still a raw nerve ending and i pulled his head to me so he could suck my now hard nipple. he bit it, holding it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue as he twisted the other one in his fingers. there seems to be a direct connection between my nipples and my clit and i reached down and rubbed myself. i know it makes him crazy to watch me finger myself, but he moved my hand. when i moved it back he grabbed my wrist, moved it again and bit my nipple harder. that woke me up completely, brought back the sting i felt in the skin on my ass and i squirmed on the bed. he threw his leg over mine to hold me still and slid his hand down my belly. his hands know me well, his fingers know all my spots, and i laid still hoping for the reward that i knew his hand could bring me. he remembered everything i had written yesterday, and i grabbed his hair as he bit my tit and pinched my clit. he knows how far to take me and torments me making me wait. i want to cum so bad i can't stand it but he wants to make me sorry and i'm not going to let him know that. that's what i want to think. he bites me so hard i want to cry out but i don't, he feels my reaction in my body and lets go of my nipple. he rolls on top of me and hooks his elbows behind my knees. i am so wet and his cock is so hard it finds it place without any help. god damn. fuck me baby. he is deliberate, long hard strokes, his face over mine. i can see his eyes in the darkness, but they seem vacant to me, he is in his own place right now. harder baby, fuck me harder... he hoists my legs up onto his shoulders, leans into me and pounds his cock into me. jesus christ. he raises up and looks at me, smiles at me in the dark as i feel him cum inside me. he releases my legs, "you're not sorry enough, but you will be." he knows i didn't cum. he knows i could get out my big purple vibrating dildo and get a nut, but he knows i'll wait. because he knows i have, i can, and i will.

not sorry

2006-01-20T06:56:00.000-08:00

not sorry enough. i left my post under his pillow, he looks for them when he gets home. he comes out of the bedroom, i'm watching him. he says "let's go out front and smoke a cigarette." we sit quiet while he lights one, he takes a deep drag off of it and hands it to me. "make you sorry, huh?" i look at him and he glares back at me. fuck. then my son walks out the front door and sits down with us, he wants to visit. joe puts his family face on and pats my leg. fuck. we have a housefull here and sometimes i swear they are all named murphy, knocking at the door at the most inopportune moments. we always leave the bedroom light on and usually have music on to mask the sounds of my moaning and so they think we're "up". last night we had a family discussion about chores, dishes, trash, who gets to scoop up poop and clean the tub. i cooked dinner, pancakes and bacon and they all filed through for their plates as the pancakes came off the griddle. i'm pouring batter and joe's pinching my nipples, biting my neck. after dinner something came up with joe's oldest daughter and his oldest son, he was agitated and we talked 'til he calmed down some. then he says to me, "i haven't forgotten about you" and the phone rings. it's his partner calling about a side job this weekend. i just fall back onto the bed and lay there. fuck me. he talks on the phone for a few minutes, hangs up and and dials someone else. i quietly roll over on the bed and bury my face in the pillow. i hear him talking but don't pay attention to what he says. my mood is changing, frustration is wearing at me. fuck! i hear him hang up the phone and an instant later i damn near jumped off the bed as the whip hit my ass. he caught me off guard and he knew it. i spun around and stared at him. i was pissed and he knew it. you son of a bitch... "get your ass back over here" i didn't move. i didn't say another word. "don't make me come after you" i stood there and dared him with my eyes. his reaction was just what i wanted, just what i needed. he walked around the bed with the whip in his right hand. i still didn't move. he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back and kissed my neck, "i'll make you sorry" and he pushed me onto the bed. i crawled up onto my knees and pointed my ass at him while i looked back over my shoulder at him, and dared him some more. i turned my face away as i saw his hand raising up... he struck me five or six times, hard, across my ass and then paused. i was furious. furious that he had hit me that hard and then furious because he stopped. you son of a bitch.. and he started again. i leaned into his strokes and he hit me harder and harder until i raised up off the bed and spun around to face him. he could see the fury in my eyes, he grabbed my hands and pushed me back on the bed, laying on top of me and pinning my arms up next to my head. his face was a half an inch from mine, his eyes intense. i squirmed underneath him and he held me tighter. i stopped squirming and looked at him, daring him some more. i pushed up my hips, rubbed against him. i could feel his hard cock through both of our jeans but he didn't push back, "you're not sorry enough" he squeezed my wrists and rolled off of me, hung the whip on the doorknob and walked out of the room. now he's fucking with me, but not the way i had intended. i laid there, my ass burning, knowing the marks will still be there in the morning and knowing that he's right. i'm not sorry enough.

cut the rope

2006-01-19T14:57:00.000-08:00

i am pulling into the driveway at your shop and you call me on the cell phone, tell me that you have to go out into the field. i'm already here i tell you. then come on down and bring my lunch you say... i pull into the lot and see you standing with your foreman. you walk over to my truck and i hand you your lunch. you lean in to kiss me and i tell you i need you to fuck me. you smile and kiss me, then kiss me again, look at me that way, then tell me you'll see me in a couple hours as you walk away and look at me over your shoulder. fuck. then you call me from the truck, i know your boss is there with you. i tell you i'm going to the store, you say we need milk. i say that's not what i need. you laugh and say you'll be home as early as you can. fuck. i need you to take me somewhere, outdoors, in the cold air. put your hands and mouth on me, feel my nipples get harder as you lick them and suck them and bite them. i need to feel your hands on me, rough and strong, grab my ass, pull my hair. undo the button on my jeans, slide your hand into them, rub my clit, pinch it, then slip your fingers into my wet pussy, finger fuck me. on the side of the road, in a ditch, under a bridge... i will beg you if that's what you want. then take me from behind, bend me over, beat my ass and fuck me. hard. fuck my pussy, fuck my ass, like i know you want to. fuck me till i beg you to stop. i am already yours. for a little while, make me sorry....

dangling

2006-01-19T11:39:00.000-08:00

do you know what the thought of you does to me? the thought of you standing there, your hard dick sticking out of your open robe. even though you just fucked my mouth, fucked my pussy? the thought of your expression when you look down at me, the fierceness in your eyes and the wicked little grin on your face. somedays i can't get enough of you. even when i am at my physical limits. even when i can't breathe, my legs shake, my heart feels like it will explode in my chest. even then i ache for you, my pussy throbs for you, my hands are restless in their search for your skin, your flesh. i pace the floor, i want to call you but i don't. i want to tell you to come home, right now, but i don't. i want to torture you the way you torture me. i should, but i don't. i will see you in half an hour, for lunch. will i tell you what you have done to me this morning? and leave you to dangle there as you have me? we'll see...

2006-01-19T07:41:00.000-08:00

maddy said steel-toed. these are my favorite of his. he still polishes them. they are soft and pliable and used. and i told you, i like used.

for you mads

happy hnt!

a trip down memory lane

2006-01-13T08:21:00.000-08:00

if you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a completely made up and fictional memory of you and me. it can be anything you want - good or bad - but it has to be fake. when you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people don't actually remember about you! snagged from sweet seamus - thanks! tell me, and have fun!

it is what it is

2006-01-13T07:17:00.000-08:00

my uncle came to dinner yesterday. he comes every couple of weeks. he is my mother's only living brother. he is a few years younger than my mother. he only lives about 15 miles away as the crow flies, but he lives in an entirely different world. he gets here by trolley and calls when when he reaches the station. he waits for me at the bus stop surrounded by people he seemingly doesn't notice. he always smiles a big smile when he sees me pull up to the curb, and shuffles his way over. he lives in a hotel downtown. this one better than the last one. he has his own bathroom now, which has made a big difference in him. not just in a hygienic way, but it keeps him out of the hallway and from the pressures that come from having to share a toilet with ten other people. his glasses are too big for his face, they are an old pair that he found somewhere. i'm not sure he he sees well through them, but he wears them anyway. we wears dentures that don't fit well, he clenches his jaw and they click and pop. he smokes a small corn cob pipe, a small pleasure for him. he has been diagnosed as schizophrenic. dulled by medication that he hates, but has learned (and learned the hard way) he can't function without. it has only been that last few years that he has kept in regular contact with us. he told me that the shame of his illness is what kept him apart from his family for almost forty years. we sat at the dinner table last night, baked pork chops, rice and peas, and he talked. talked more than he usually does. he's getting to know joe and feeling more comfortable around him. and the bottle of porter he drank probably helped loosen his tongue a bit too. he talked about his life growing up in foster homes, some of the abuses he endured. and some he didn't. about running away and the thoughts a young boy has when he's hungry or is confronted with a stern policeman. he said he no longer harbored any resentment towards the people that had tormented him, that however much time he had left on this earth was too precious for anger or bitterness . he said "when you are young days are like pennies, but when you are older they are like gold coins". he told us about a dream he had once. how he was walking through a burned out forest, he described the forest in great detail, how the charred trees looked, the muddy ash on the ground. he said he met a man on the path who pointed the way for him. he followed the man's direction and came to the edge of the forest. he was on the rim of a canyon and all the lights of the city were below him. he stood there and looked but never went down into the city, but stayed apart, on the edge. he said that his life had been like that, that he had always felt apart, even though he had lived in the city his whole life. i guess i must have had a look on my face, i was thinking about how much different we were and how much the same. he looked at me and said "but don't be sad, it's not sad, it is what it is." and he smiled. i drove him home last night, drove from the small town i live in to the city where he lives, the hotel in the middle of the gaslamp district. as we drove through town he talked about the city where he lives, but not what is there now, but what used to be. the chinese restaurant that was on that corner, the grocer that used to give him credit, the coffee house he used to go to that served real coffee in a mug, not froth in a paper cup. when he climbed out of my car he looked up at the tall buildings around him, he had a smile on his face. "can i come over next week?" please do.

a peek into my....

2006-01-12T07:46:00.000-08:00

drawers. well, one of them anyway. borrowed from ed i don't fold anything in this drawer, except the bandanas. i hardly even bother to mate the socks. a multitude of treasures in there. trinkets, cards, letters, books, hankerchiefs, handcuffs, all buried under the socks and panties and bras...

two lone wolves...

2006-01-10T08:30:00.000-08:00

i had a special aunt. she died just over three years ago. i cared for her until the cancer that was in her finally took her from this life. she died in my bed, in the bed that i now share with my joe. someone told me once that it was creepy that i still slept in that bed. it's not to me and it's not to him. it's life. for most of my life she was that one person i could go to with things i couldn't say out loud to anyone else. we discovered that our minds traveled along the same chord. a chord that not many others traveled. set apart. we used to say that we could be alone together. maybe that sounds sad. it's not. we traveled on the outskirts. along the edges. from there you get a different viewpoint. after she died i waited for a sign from her. it was a long time coming. i kept thinking maybe i just wasn't paying attention. but then i finally had a dream of her. she said to me in the dream "you never really knew me". she was smiling when she said it, there was no sadness or regret in her voice or her actions. it upset me at first, but i figured there had to be more to it. something i was missing. some time later i found some things she had written. and i knew that when she wrote them she knew that i would find them. eventually. they were questions mostly. things she still needed answers to. her questioning her god, herself and her faith. she died hard, she wasn't ready to go and she fought it. she felt like life was eluding her and then when she finally decided she couldn't fight anymore, death was eluding her too. the nine months that she lived with me, the last nine months of her life, we learned a lot about each other and ourselves. we talked about life and death and what comes after. we laughed and cried and cursed and prayed. we talked about our hopes and dreams and the realization that some of the things we wanted probably weren't going to happen. we embraced each other and then let each other go. that was the biggest thing i learned while caring for her. how to let go. it's not something fashionable. people want you to hang on tooth and nail. and i drew criticism from some of the family because they felt like i wasn't fighting hard enough to keep her alive. but i didn't take it personally. i knew what she wanted, what she needed, and i wasn't going to make her last days any more of a fight than it had to be. part of the process of letting go is realizing how tightly you hold on to things. maybe it's easier for me to let go of things because i am by nature not a hanger on. well, i hung on to my bad marriage for far, far too long, but i'm not even sure if i was hanging on to it, or if it was hanging on to me. but whatever, i finally pried it loose and got on with myself. i have spent a lot of time in my life alone. in the midst of a lot of people. but i never felt like i was lonely. detached, but not lonely. some people have said that i am in my own little world. not really, i'm just on the edges of it. when i met joe, i felt a similar detachment in him. and the more i got to know him the more i saw it. living a life on the outskirts. not a leader or a follower. and don't confuse detachment with coldness, or being without passion. maybe it's the passion that burns in us that has kept us from loneliness. we are a pair of solitary creatures. alone together. and that suits us. just fine.

i need a neck brace

2006-01-09T08:25:00.000-08:00

so, i posted friday afternoon, as i was on my quest for a drunk. i ended up drinking five beers in short order. three before i published and two more shortly after. i still can't remember what we had for dinner... then i pulled a muscle in my neck. fucking in the shower. that sobered me up. a little. then i started my period. again. maybe that's where some of my madness was coming from. or not. my daughter rubbed out my neck for me, then i passed out on the sofa, with a hot rice bag on my neck, and joe's hand in mine. and it just came to me, we had slow roasted chicken.

sam adams and holy socks

2006-01-06T14:53:00.000-08:00

it's friday afternoon. unusual time for me to post. i'm sitting here with sam adams. a cherry wheat version of him. only two of him in the fridge. after that i will be keeping company with my best mexican friend, corona. more of those in the fridge. not to mention the that white boy, bud, and that other fair fellow, heinken, but i'm missing my mick friends harp and guinness... i feel a drunk coming on. is it obvious? so the fuck what. so, a quiet day here, most of which i spent getting to know a damp dog and his master. both of them are adorable. you can ask them which is the master... then edge wants to go to the fair. i'm fuckin' ready. just sayin' i wanna get jiggy with my sistah i'm fuckin' ready for that too. let's all get jiggy at the fair. my mind has been all over today. let's touch the good places and the less desirable ones. i wanna suck his toes, he thinks they're ugly. i don't. and i'm not even a foot person. i used to hate my ass. even when i weighed thirty pounds less than i do now. now i love my ass, and i'll shake it for you and it's what you'll see when i'm walking away... or if you're the lucky one, i'll be backing it up to you. brb, need another beer. okay, i'm back. where was i? something about my ass... i think i did an hnt of my ass. it's in there... somewhere. fuck it. that probably didn't come out like i expected, but, fuck it. anyway, edge has me thinking about my body. that probably didn't sound like i meant it too either. i've never been really concerned with my appearance. well, let's see if i can rephrase that. i have not worn make-up since i was about 20. i don't own any. at all. i don't paint my nails. they are not manicured. i wear some silver jewelry. pieces that i love that have meaning for me and i wear the same pieces almost all the time. the silver claddagh that is my wedding band next to that is a celtic knot on my fuck off finger silver spoon ring on the thumb of my left hand embellished band on my right middle finger white gold mother's ring on my right ring finger. a long silver chain around my neck with two pendants one, a lone wolf (my husband wears it's mate) and the knot of the triple goddess. three silver rings in my left ear, two in my right. i am a product of my generation, my hair will always be long. i wear it down in the winter and up in the summer. no clips, no barrettes, just a hair tie or a bandana. i only blow dry my hair when i wash it late at night so i don't go to bed with wet hair. otherwise it air dries.... i wear blue jeans, flared, low rise. because i like the way they fit me, they are less obtrusive. i hardly wear shoes except when i have to, but i love socks. and a lot of my socks have holes in them because i don't like shoes... i have freckles. lots. sometimes i forget i have them. i wear thong underwear because hey, your underwear ususally ends up stuck in the crack of your ass. but with a thong there is less material to get stuck there... i don't own any pantyhose. if i wear a dress somewhere i go nekkid legged. i live in so cal, get a grip... dear sam has deserted me oh well. hello corona! i has been a long long long time since i posted other than in the morning. or posted while imbibbing. i am not always that serious. really. you should see me on the weekends...

let the wind take it

2006-01-05T07:55:00.000-08:00

so i purposely left the laptop sitting on the bed yesterday. i hadn't told him that i had written to him, i didn't want him dwelling on it all day. i took the post i wrote yesterday, changed the preface, changed the hims to yous and the his to yours, and printed it out and left it under his pillow. it's where i leave everything i write. we went to my mother's after he got home from work to fix the leak in her roof. before we finished his oldest son showed up to hang out with us and he followed us home after we were done. when we got home the house was full of kids, and we excused ourselves so we could shower and wash the roof off of us. we fucked in the shower until we felt the water cooling off, then washed up quick and jumped out. when we went into the bedroom he saw the laptop and said, "did you write something for me?" yeah, it's under your pillow. but you might want to read it later. "maybe so, i don't want to walk out there with a hard dick" oh, i doubt it will make your dick hard. i wrote it last night after you went to sleep. with no hesitation he pulled the papers out from under the pillow, sat on the edge of the bed and started to read. "rip it out of me...." he took a deep breath and kept on. when he got to he last line he looked at me and said, "i believe it too. i don't doubt you, i don't doubt your love for me. i don't know why i say those things. i'm sorry i hurt you and i'll never say that to you again. will you forgive me?" i saw the pain in his eyes and i started to cry. all i could do was nod my head and put my arms around him. he laid me back on the bed, smoothed my hair and kissed me. "thank you for writing this for me, for being honest with me." we talked for a little while, then went out to the front porch to smoke a cigarette. he asked me if we could bury the letter in the yard. i told him things that are buried always seem to get unburied, we needed to just let it go. we can burn it in the fireplace and let the wind take it away. we agreed. we were sitting on the sofa on the front porch kissing when his son came out the front door, "you old folks. don't you ever get enough?" we laughed... no, we don't. we went to bed last night wrapped in each other, flesh to flesh, no doubt between us.

spill it

2006-01-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

i broke out the old laptop last night. the battery is shit and you have to keep it plugged in so it's not very mobile. but it's what i used to use when i wrote in bed late at night. i had mentioned to joe that i used to do that and needed to start doing it again. but i didn't expect to use it last night. but i needed some release. i wrote this letter to joe last night while he slept next to me. i think i hoped he would wake up, ask what i was writing and then read it. he didn't. i didn't give it to him this morning, he needs to focus when he's at work, when you work around heavy equipment that matters. he will read it tonight. i could see something in his eyes when he left this morning. doubt, guilt, regret... something. i won't let it go on and on. i've learned one thing at least, that shit will eat you up inside. he can either spill it or i'll do my best to coax it out of him. or rip it out of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ what do you do when someone you love doubts you? when someone you love asks you a question, you answer them honestly but they turn away from you, roll over and then start to snore? while you sit six inches from them and hurt because they doubt you. you want to put your arms around them and hope that they see the truth in you and realize there should be no doubt. but that is like telling them it's okay to doubt you. and it's not. they say that alcohol is a truth serum. this issue only comes up when you are drinking. is this how you really feel? do you really feel like i would have married you, sentenced you to twenty five to life if i had those kind of feelings for anyone else? we said earlier today that there would never be a problem too big for us to work out. but this doubt you have about me is not something i can change. i wonder if this is really about you thinking this is too good to be true. i wonder if this is you looking for a reason to bail out before i have the chance to hurt you. or you being afraid i might change my mind about you. i am starting to realize that this suspicion you have is making me act differently than i might otherwise. i am always conscious of my actions around randy, always worried i might say or do something towards him that would increase this doubt you have. then i think it's not really randy. if it wasn't him, would it be somebody else? for almost thirty years i lived with someone who doubted everything i did. i was always walking on eggshells, afraid to talk to or look at anyone for fear of starting some kind of shit. the truth was never good enough. i'm not going to do that again. here is the truth. i love you. the way a woman loves a man she wants to spend the rest of her life with. heart and soul. i love other people too, in other ways. people that may come and go in our life, people that you see good in, people that can add something to your life or when you can add something to their lives. you love them while you can. you might hold them close to your heart, but very few do you hold close to your soul. by the time you read this you will have slept, maybe even worked the whole next day. i don't know if this will be on your mind. but it will be on mine. i told you before that i believe we were meant to be together. and i do believe that. do you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ he called five minutes after i hit publish. he apologized, asked me if i was mad at him and if i would forgive him. i told him i wasn't mad, but that he hurt my feelings. i forgave him and told him we would talk about it tonight. it is good that he called. it lets me know it's on his mind.

betcha can't have just one

2006-01-03T07:29:00.000-08:00

i made some special chocolate chip cookies for christmas. kept 'em separate from the others. they had a unique smell. but other than that they seemed like ordinary chocolate chip cookies. until about an hour after you ate one. hmmm. and if you're a cheap date like i am, one is all you need. found a recipe on the internet and made some special butter. 12 grams of good shake, ground up in the handi chopper, and a cup of butter simmered in a double boiler for 45 minutes. strain out the solids and you are left with beautiful green butter. let it cool and put it in your favorite cookie recipe. holy shit. i ate one news years day. i was standing on my side porch smoking a cigarette. i was by myself. i can see this old lady's dining room window from my side porch. her curtains are always open. i have seen her sit at the dining room table by herself almost every night. her husband died three or four years ago. he used to sit with her, now she sits by herself. new year's day, as i stood there stoned and smoking, i looked to see her at her table with her family. she sat in her usual spot and her family was gathered around her. it made me happy. happy that she wasn't alone. and it made me sad. i wondered what kind of family she has. the kind that only shows up on the holidays? as i watched her go back and forth from the table to the kitchen i wondered if she felt obligated to wait on them or if she was really enjoying herself. i wondered if she was part of the chit chat that was going on or just a bystander. from my spot on the side porch i can't see facial expressions, just body language. i wondered if her stiffness was arthritis or uneasiness. i wondered if her head was bent over her plate because she was enjoying the food or because she felt left out. i thought maybe i'd bring her some cookies. not those special ones, the regular ones. i still haven't done that. but i will. i was at the grocery store just before christmas and a little old lady came up to me and asked me if i liked avocados. yeah, i do. she told me she had just cut back her tree and had a bunch in the back of her truck and asked if i was interested in taking a look. i walked with her back to her truck and found three large buckets full of them. as i poked through her avocados we talked. she told me her husband had died almost twenty years ago and she had been on her own ever since. they never had any children, she only had one living sister. she told me she was eighty four. she had one lens missing out of her glasses. she said she had just had cataract surgery and didn't need that lens anymore. her whole being smiled, her eyes, her hands. i wanted to invite her to christmas dinner at my house. i didn't. why i didn't i don't know. maybe i thought she would feel like i was feeling sorry for her. i wasn't. not at all. i wish i had invited her. my daughter's mother in law called here on christmas. she told me how her grand daughter (my daughter's new step daughter) had told her all about her two more grandmas and her new papa (me, my mother and joe). that made me smile. i wasn’t sure how she was taking to us all. but hey, how can you have too many grandmas and papas?

the task at hand...

2005-12-29T08:44:00.000-08:00

i forgot it was thursday. i was thinking is was friday. wishful thinking i guess. i went to see my sis and there she was in all her glory. and she said something about the task at hand... about picking a favorite hnt from the past, which worked for me since i didn't have anything in mind. i looked back and was surprised to see that my first hnt was exactly three months ago, september 29th. and it was fucking hot here. man time flies... so why is this my favorite? my hands are what allows me to express myself. here, as i type these words. as they create the images i see in my head as art. when they caress your cheek to show you my love, or to take your hand in friendship when words don't matter. happy hnt!

i have no title for this

2005-12-26T07:52:00.000-08:00

my man has to work today. i don't. he asked me to write something for him. part of this is for him, part of it is for me. christmas. it's done. yay. new years, i'm looking forward to it. we're going to the desert for a race. i went last year, stag. the friend i went with last year and joe are friends now. i knew they would hit it off, they have a lot in common, except the fact that they have been on opposite sides of a badge most of their lives. my man bought me a telescope, he gave it to me early because the night was clear. we live close to the coast and it has been overcast most every night. but i got to see the moon when it was full. i have always looked to the heavens. i could lay in the yard on a clear night and just let my eyes and imagination wander there. when i was a kid i use to think the moon followed me as i sat in the backseat of the car, watching as the moon chased us through the night, always visible no matter how many turns we made, always there when we reached our destination. i remember the first time i realized orion wasn't the big dipper, i was on my back in the bed of a pickup truck in proctor valley. i think i was fifteen. i gave joe a present early in the day christmas eve. i told him it was for us. a cue stick case, double wide. it holds both of our sticks, our chalk, our quarters, my wallet (i hate taking my purse into a bar, i hate having to keep track of it). he packed it up and we went out late that night, met my best girlfriend and her man to shoot some pool, drink some beers and clink our bottles with the regulars. the tables were full when we arrived so we put our names on the board. when joe's name came up the folks shooting said "the table is all yours, we don't shoot against people who bring their own sticks." pussies..... we shot one handed while they watched us. we are both good and it usually comes down to the eight ball when we play each other. i am good when it comes to the hard cuts and have the eye for the bank shots, but joe can see shots that i wouldn't and has taught me to look at the table differently. i used to be self-conscience about being good, feeling like we are showing off. but it attracts the right competition, and you almost always shoot better when your opponents play well. the karaoke guy put joe on the spot and he sang. i always sit right in front. he came over and leaned against me while he sang "house of the rising sun", i put my arms around him and let the smell of him wash over me. everyone clapped and hollered when he was done, he kissed me, looked at me and said "i love it when you're here, right next to me" and i thought "this man is mine". it sounds silly, but i realized i have never felt that way about anyone. there are times in my life when i've felt like i belonged to someone else, but in a different way. like i was a possession. i once thought that was love, now i know different. we stayed at the bar for several hours, but i didn't drink too much. didn't want to be hung over for christmas. too much cooking to do. after our friends left we were shooting partners with another couple when a woman walked up to joe and said something to him about his son. he followed her out the door. i waited. i shot another game of pool and then i went out to see what was up. i walked out to find joe telling some guy that if he laid a hand on his son he would bury him. seems like the kid owes him money for dope, joe's telling him that it was his own damn fault for fronting to him. and the woman telling us that joe's son and another guy stole a gun from her house. her husband's m-16. and people are looking for them and she knows where they might be, she'll show us if we give her a ride... another guy comes out of the bar. everyone calls him loco. he's telling us "don't let the crazy bitch in your car", he's telling her the kid is a grown man, making his own choices, don't be laying this shit on his family. the feeling of dread in me is ominous. but we put this woman in the car and drove. how can i not? this is my man and this is his son. his baby son. i drove. when we got to the house i stayed in the car where i could see what was happening. not that i wanted to see, but i couldn't not watch. she hid in the backseat, which didn't make me feel any better. but no one answered the door. we took her back to the bar, then went to look for him some more. went to the places were joe thought he might be, places he used to haunt himself, 12:30 christmas morning, cruising streets in shitty neighborhoods, the parking lots of liquor stores... nothing. we went home. how do you sleep when you know your kid is on the street, tweeking, with a gun in his hand? joe was quiet yesterday, a lot of the time looking far away. but he put up a good front for the others, helped me in the kitchen and smiled for the little ones. his kid's mother called here at 11:30 last night. she said the sheriff had called their son's ex girlfriend and asked her if she knew that he had her driver's license in his possession. this morning i checked the county sheriff website. he was booked early this morning for being under the influence of a controlled substance. i could see the relief in joe's face. and the misery. baby, i know you're hurting. i wish i could take that hurt away for you. i know i can't. i know all i can do is be here. you know i am. heart and soul.

half unwrapped

2005-12-22T07:08:00.000-08:00

do you open your presents on christmas or christmas eve? do you rattle the boxes before? do you try and peek? or do you like to be surprised? me, i'm all about the anticipation, the build-up. i don't want no hints. i unwrap everything real slow, peel away the tape, unfold the paper, sit there with the box on my lap as you squirm waiting for me to open it.... happy hnt!

untagged, unmeme

2005-12-21T08:32:00.000-08:00

i like em wicked. and this one is wicked. everyday. and i can't resist him.

Edge wants to know how the internet changed your sex life (or, holy hell, I had no idea this shit was out there!!!)

Did you start with porn surfing, do you still? Do you have favorite sites that you still visit? just to clarify my views i will call porn pictures of the sexual act and erotica words. yeah, i did porn on the internet. it showed up in my email all the time. how can you resist tight holes reamed by massive cocks.... just sayin'. but i don't really do porn anymore, on purpose anyway. sometimes you just stumble on to it though. but i do erotica. almost everyday. mine, yours, hers, his, theirs, ours...
Have you experienced chat? Sexual chat? Do you still? chat. only recently, with a select group of people. and was it sexual? you bet your sweet ass. it didn't always start that way, but it always seemed to end up that way. and i will again, no doubt.
Sexual IM's with anonymous strangers? Did cyber sex ever work for you, does it still? anonymous strangers. once. not so anonymous, yes. i spent more than four hours one friday night IM'ing someone i had only known through his blog . it was mutually gratifying, more than once. and hey sweetie, if you read this, i have never forgotten it. and voracious email sex with another man who left only one comment... holy shit. thank you gmail.
Has blogging (ugh, hate that word) changed your sexual views, opened your eyes to things you hadn't previously considered, or given you the outlet to express a side of you previously hidden? it has not changed my sexual views, but it has opened me up to things. i never knew i could write erotica. talk about an outlet. an inlet. the process of writing it, reliving those moments in great detail, sometimes i can't finish them in one sitting. and the feedback is heady. the reaction from my man when he reads what i write. the thought of you sitting there, your cock getting hard or your pussy getting wet when you read what i have written. oh, yeah.
Has the internet influenced your exhibitionistic tendencies? Have you been naked on the world wide web? Are you surprised or shocked by that? Is it a turn on for you? influenced? somewhat. naked on the web? half. but hell, i've been naked on the hood of my car. surprised? somewhat. a turn on? is it thursday yet?
Has the internet influenced your voyeuristic tendencies? Are there things you look at that no one else knows about? Come on, you can tell me, the shocking stuff. i have always liked to watch, i am just more open about it now. but i want you to know i'm watching you. i don't picture myself a keyhole wanker...
Does reading the word taboo quicken your pulse? i'm past that.
How bout forbidden? that too.
Have you learned that you are more submissive or more dominant than you thought you were? How do you feel about that? both. i never thought i would actually let someone tie me down or spank me, i never felt safe enough or strong enough. i never thought i could actually spank someone with conviction, but the sight of someone squirming under my hand is a turn on. finding someone you trust and that trusts you enough to go there is amazing.
Has the internet exposed you to phone sex? Or were you already an advocate? never really did phone sex until a year or so ago. and i wasn't much good at it then. i'm better now. i found my voice.
Has the internet made you more likely to have casual sex? no more than i was before, if you're meaning sex with someone you don't have a "romantic love relationship" with.
Have you found love on the internet? yes. in many ways.
Have you had sex with someone you met online? no. i may have eventually if my life hadn't taken the turn that it did. i would have been open to it.
Do your online activities make it more difficult for you to be faithful to your partner? no. i do not "physically" cheat. period. if i had felt the need to be with someone else i would not have brought him into my home. and it has nothing to do with the fact that we are now married. it's a "look, but don't touch" thing (unless you count touching yourself, which we don't).
How big a part does sex play in your online activities, blogging, chatting, IM'ng, etc. outside of work related stuff, probably 80%. is that a lot?
Do you think the internet has created in you a sexual obsession or addiction? Or been the catalyst that released pre existing tendencies toward obsession/addiction. i was already obsessed/addicted. more people know it now, is all.
Has the internet changed the way you feel about dirty sex, nasty sex, being a whore, a slut, without the negative connotations? i haven't experienced as much negativity here on the net, but i tend to stick with the other nasty folks. call me what you want. it don't change my view of myself anymore. i like who i am. and i'm nasty.
Do you ever fantasize about being spanked by an older male authority figure blogger? fantasized? yes. you know several of us who are in line for that.
Would you call him Daddy? you ain't old enough to be my daddy. but i would if you wanted me to...
Have you ever said, "well fuck me in pigtails"? no, but i might just hafta!

so, i'm askin' ya...

2005-12-16T08:40:00.000-08:00

have you earned your red wings? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "are you still bleeding?" not much. "you know, when we went into the store the other morning all the other women there were jealous." jealous? why were they jealous? "because they could smell your blood on me and they knew i had just fucked you." you think so huh? what does it smell like to you? "hmm, yours? like soil, sort of dark and damp and it has a bit of a bite to it. puts a tingle in my nose." a tingle in your nose huh? "yeah, then it makes my dick hard." i can see that "i love fucking you when you're all slick with it, the way it dries in little curls in my hair." typically i am at my horniest during my period. because i am going through menopause my periods are few and far between and can range from a pink tinge to resembling the scene of a homicide. mother nature has blessed me with a man that may be part wolf. thank you mother. "and i love the smell of it in my mustache, just that can keep my dick hard all day." i know that feeling. i love the smell of you on my face after i have sucked your cock. and then kissing you and tasting it all mingled together. i remember one night when we first met we had gone to denny's in the middle of the night and i kissed you there in the booth. you tasted like sausage and pussy. salty and sweet. "hmm, i remember. i remember what you tasted like too. cock and maple syrup..." we laughed about that. my ex hardly ever fucked me while i was having my period, which was really okay with me as i wasn't too interested anyway. i would usually take matters into my own hands while i was in the shower. it was always a solitary thing. my ex took offense at the idea of me pleasuring myself. the thought of me getting myself off while he couldn't pissed him off. i was with that man for twenty seven years and he never made me cum. ever. holy shit. but hey, if you asked him i was just a pent-up bitch. blek. the first time i had my period after i met joe it had been absent for almost three months. and it was making up for lost time. i felt like shit. i felt like i looked like shit. my boobs hurt and my crotch ached. he touched my nipples and it damn near sent me through the roof, but it hurt so good i couldn't make him stop. and i didn't. he fucked me warm and sticky, the ache in my pussy yearned for it and i felt like i couldn't get enough of him. when i finally came, i could feel my hot juice running down between the crack of my ass onto the towel he had laid on the bed. we fucked until our skin was damn near stuck together. and then we laid there, the smell of coppery damp earth thick in the air. part wolf... just what this bitch needs. thanks mother. so i'm askin' ya... have you earned your red wings?

half nekkid

2005-12-15T08:17:00.000-08:00

tree! i've had this tree since monday. and it's still half nekkid. and it just may stay that way. if you look close you can see a bit of trunk down there..... happy hnt!

2005-12-14T09:33:00.000-08:00

i have a formica burn on my cheekbone.... as you get older your skin gets thinner. you tend to bruise and bleed easier. the surface stuff tends to take longer to heal. he walks into the bathroom as i flush, my robe is open, i was going to go straight back to bed. i thought he was waiting for me. he wasn't waiting. he teased me last night, in the shower. as i rinsed my hair, eyes closed with the shampoo running down my face he slipped his fingers between my legs, rubbed my clit as he stroked his cock. he looked down his nose at me, his eyes half closed, mine half open. "like that?" mmm, yeah. are going to fuck me before the water gets cold? "no, you're gonna have to wait. the kids are on the other side of the wall" the kids are always on the other side of the wall "i'm gonna watch you" he takes his hand away and nods at me. i set my foot on the edge of the tub and rub my clit as he stands there stroking his cock. but he doesn't watch my hand, he watches my eyes. he watches my eyes as i let mine wander over his face, over his body. his body... he has long dark blonde hair, incredibly soft and fine. a full mustache and dark beard with a bit of gray that surrounds his soft lips. dark blue eyes that have a ring of brown around the pupils under long light colored lashes. his neck is brown from working in the sun, the skin there soft under my fingers and tongue. his shoulders are not broad, but strong and rounded. his arms, tanned and tattooed, scarred from work, are hard and lean. his hands are calloused but so gentle. his hands are one of the things that attracted me to him in the beginning. the way he holds a pool cue, like it is a living thing, softly with his fingers, cradling it in his hand. the way he shook my hand when we first met, wrapping both his hands around mine, his fingers hesitating there, letting my hand slowly slip out of his grasp. my name is tattooed on his taut chest, just above his left nipple, a different tattoo above the right. his nipples are always hard. always begging me to nibble them, hold them in my teeth while i roll my tongue around them. down his belly, his happy trail is not thick but lets your hand know it's heading in the right direction. his back is strong and firm, another tattoo on his shoulder blade, the skin so smooth. this man has the nicest ass. small, round, soft when he's relaxed, so kissable. yum. and the thought of my hands there, on his ass when we fuck, feeling the muscles working, the strength and stamina, well it just about sends me over. what finishes me off is the sight of his hand on his cock. the way he holds it in his hand, thumb on top, two fingers underneath, rubbing together like you would when feeling the texture of a fine fabric, slowly relishing the moment. as his cock stiffens in his hand he rubs the head of it against me and i look up at him. he has this little devilish smile on his face... "turn around baby" he slips his cock into me, and god damn i'm ready for that. ready for the way he grinds into me as i brace my head into the corner of the shower, he grabs those handrails, working his hips and his ass, his legs. jesus. i'm still rubbing my clit with one hand, pulling at his leg with the other, pushing harder and harder agianst him. then he stops. i am so fucking close. that place i love to be, just before. "a taste" he tells me. hmmm. after i got out of the shower i walked down to my daughter's. she cut my hair and dried it for me while i drank a beer or two. had a toke on the hash pipe. the combination of everything left me in a dreamy state. i found him waiting for me in the bed. i crawled in next to his warm body and ran my hands over him. he gathered me in his arms and we laid there a long time. my hand drifted down his belly and i caressed his balls and his cock. "mmm, that feels so good." i could feel his hips moving gently under my hand, and feel his cock responding to my touch. we both fell asleep with his cock in my hand. then i woke in morning as he put my hand back there. i'll be right back baby... he walks into the bathroom as i flush, my robe is open, i was going to go straight back to bed. i thought he was waiting for me. he wasn't waiting. he unties his robe, and as it falls open he looks down at his hard cock, then looks back at me. he signals for me to turn around and i do as i let my robe slip off. i know he likes to see everything. and i love watching him in the mirror as he watches us fuck. i bend over the sink as i point my ass at him, he steps up to me and rubs the head of his cock across my lips and my clit as his hand squeezes my ass. the sink is cold on my nipples so i grab my robe and put it between my boobs and the sink top. and he starts fucking me, his hands on my hips, then his hand on my shoulders. harder and faster, fuck. i reach back and grab his robe with both my hands and pull him into me harder. he slows down but each stroke is harder than the last, both of us pulling and pushing, my head knocking over bottles on the sink. he knows when i cum because i pull him tight and don't let go, hold him as my pussy contracts around him, as my legs stiffen and my back arches. i look into the mirror to see him watching my face as i cum. he slows to let me catch back up and then he starts that grinding again, now fucking me for his satisfaction. and i watch his face in the mirror as he cums, as his hips shudder against me and his hands clench my shoulders. we had spent too much time in the bathroom and were hurrying to get dressed when he saw the mark on my cheek. i didn't realize what it was at first. then i laughed. bitten again. :-)

i've got dead batteries

2005-12-08T10:33:00.000-08:00

sorry folks, no hnt here today, dead batteries in the digital. click on the button below and go see osbasso for other half nekkid folks. happy hnt!

down ass bitch

2005-12-05T07:24:00.000-08:00

we had a full house on saturday night. lots of young people here partying, shooting pool, folks crowded around the computers laughing while they checked out the comments left at their "my space" places. i was in the kitchen mixing some margaritas when my daughter came in and handed me a folded up piece of notebook paper. she didn't say a word, she just put it my hand and kissed me. i have shared some of the things i've written here with my kids, things i wrote about them and things i've written about my feelings for joe. my daughter told me that one night, her and my son and my son's new girlfriend sat up all night reading those things and talking. my son's girlfriend read "my kid" outloud to them. she told me the next time he raced he kept thinking about the things i had written, the things we had talked about. i stood in the kitchen and opened that note. it probably didn't help that i'd had a few drinks already, but i woulda cried anyway.... this is what it said: ~~~~~~~~~~ it's 3 in the morning and i'm going thru our picture box, and i'm looking at all these pictures of my mama, me and my mama, my brother and my mama, my daddy and my mama, my mama picking up shit and scrubbin' the toilet. my mama with the trophy queen (you are the trophy queen), pictures of my mama and her stepbabies and i realized something, well alot of things, you're awesome. you did it all and you still can (keep on keepin' on!). you're an amazing lady and i thank you for everything you've done because you made me the woman i am today. you filled me with love and now i feel like i'm ready to love and be loved. pictures say alot and every picture i see with you in it says you can be it all, the mama. the drag racer, the loving stepmama, the engineer... from making clothes to making cakes, fixin' cars and loving our animals, you did it all with stride and spirit. after all you will reach in the toilet to grab my keys just to make me happy. (you're a down ass bitch and i ain't made at cha) i love you and even though both of us have different names, eagles still don't catch flies and we will always fly with eagles! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pretty fuckin' sweet...

flappin my beak

2005-12-02T07:37:00.000-08:00

edge sent me a picture. it's my new profile pic, over there on the right. he took it because he said he thought i was stalking him in the woods. and my beak was flappin'. i told him i wasn't a stalker, a voyeur maybe..... besides, i like the view. and it's been good viewing, especially lately. just sayin'. in the process of changing my profile picture i found myself carousing around some of my old posts. back in the day when i used to post whether i thought i had anything to say or not. seems like nowadays i have so little time to post that i don't unless i feel profound. or horny. horny mostly... not feeling profound today, but fuck it, posting anyway. i won't say i'm not horny, but not posting horny. right now anyway....

i love the smell

2005-12-01T07:49:00.000-08:00

of metal in the morning. early when the shop is empty and i can have it all to myself. when i can mill and drill and cut and weld and the only sounds are my own. happy hnt!

thanks, okay?

2005-11-28T15:21:00.000-08:00

i received an email from someone who matters regarding my last post. he has graciously granted me his permission to post it here. thanks johnny. it helps. okay... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I remember the first time I kissed a girl in front of my parents. I looked at them afterwards, suddenly remembering that me and my then-girl were in mixed company. I saw my parents relieved because I'm pretty sure they were afraid I was gay up till that point. As far as writing about sex, well...not many people do it as well as you do. Somehow, it doesn't sound all penthouse "I never thought this would happen to me but it did." I have a hard time writing about feelings, much less something so personal. In other words, keep it up. As to your stepson, well...I can only speak for myself, but I've had a couple of friends who went through issues with tweaking. I had to do the hardest thing I could do at that time: I had to turn my back on one of them. She was so rabidly paranoid and into her world that there was nothing my friendship or love could offer her that would compare to how the drug made her feel in the short term. Drug addiction is like a haze; no matter how horrible it is, it's at least comfortable and easier to deal with than that bullshit people call "reality." I'm going to make a leap of logic, here, just because some of the things you've written that I've read lead me to believe that you have an idea about abusive relationships. And if I'm out of line, please let me know. Abusive relationships and drug addiction aren't that far removed from one another, in my experience. I've had a little of both in my life (both through my own experiences and those of others I've let into my life). The main commonalities are a) a fear of the unknown b) an unwillingness to change your lifestyle because of that fear and c) a feeling of worthlessness because of a) & b). Of course, the worst parts, once you're away from it, are the memories and what they lead you to believe. "Why did I wait so long, am I just stupid or masochistic or is there something inside of me that craves this...." Shit like that. If my guess is correct, you can probably understand him a bit more than you give yourself credit for. And if you can, maybe you can make a reach he hasn't had before. If I'm full of shit and misread something, well...sorry.:) It took me a long time to realize that all we can do is help people dust themselves off. You can't MAKE someone do something they don't want and aren't ready to do. It sounds like your step-son is stuck in his comfy old shoes and can't imagine going through life without them on his feet. And there's not much you can do about it if he doesn't want to be helped. Meth is an ass-kicker of a drug, especially when you're trying to beat it. The only thing I've ever seen work when someone I knew was getting off of it was isolation from everything involved with the drug, which mean all of his friends and all the places he likes to hang out. One of my friends recently moved back in with his mother, just because he couldn't do it on his own. Ultimately, to beat anything that's beaten you down, you have to believe in yourself again. I've never had a major drug problem (smoking excluded), and even I have a hard time with my self-belief. And above all else, let Joe know that it's not his fault. He and you did the best you could, from the sounds of it. You gave him the place, you gave him the space, you gave him the time. Hard as it may be, the fact is he made the decision to go out and get lost again. All you can do is wait and let him know you're there, which Joe did by putting out the word. Okay, I'm going to go now. I've probably overstepped my bounds, but you sounded a little lost and I figured this might help. Okay, I'm done. Meatsticks

2005-11-22T07:13:00.000-08:00

lately it's seems i only post sex or hnt. can you tell what's on my mind? really there is more on my mind, but sex seems to be the only thing i can really wrap my mind around enough to articulate.... but i'm gonna try. i saw my son kiss a girl for the first time. i know he's kissed a girl before but this is the first time he's kissed one in front of me. and i saw the look on her face. sweet. and the tender way he held her when he kissed her. sweet. she sang karaoke for him the other night and he grinned and he blushed. they are so fucking cute. my son has it in him to fall hard, i hope she has a big enough heart to catch him. my step son has been back on the streets since thursday. we took him to his mom's after his addiction class that night. he took his mom's car that night and didn't bring it home when he was supposed to. he dropped the car off the next morning and hauled ass. we saw him friday night at the bar. he was amped and his pupils were dilated. he missed his "na" meeting over the weekend and he was supposed to go to his addiction class last night. we always take him to his classes, but didn't hear from him. after dinner we went out looking for him, we asked around some and found out where he had been. holed up all weekend with a bunch of tweekers. we found the trailer where they lived, but missed him by a half an hour. i've been worried something like this would happen. he's been doing really good, but the end of the month he has to meet with his probation officer. he has to show proof that he has a job (he says he's gotten one unloading trucks for mervyn's, but he has yet to start work), he has to go to all his classes and na meetings, and show that he's made some kind of payment towards his restitution. the end of the month is close and he hasn't done everything he needs to do. i've been worried that he would get discouraged and go underground. last night his dad put word out on the street. we still haven't heard from him. it's weighing on joe, there is distance in his eyes. i was talking to someone about how much this kid has going for him, how much love and talent there is in him. why is it that this shit seems to happen to the ones who seem to have so much to lose? but it's not just them, it also happens to the ones that never had anything to start with. it's just that we don't want to see them. but fuck, i can't help them. i don't know how to help this one kid. can we drag him back kicking and fighting? or do we let him go and hope for the best? there has got to be a middle ground, but i don't know where that is. thursday is thanksgiving. my favorite holiday. family, friends and food. no presents, no pretense. bring your favorite beer and sit at my table. i have a big old farm table, pull out the leaves and it will seat twelve. there is no "head of the table" here. sit where you want. dig in.

lovin' spoonful

2005-11-16T13:04:00.000-08:00

warm skin, next to mine, the way your body fits me, curve for curve and bend for bend. my knees tucked in behind yours, my chest pressed against your back, my arm around you, my face in the back of your neck breathing in the smell of your hair. my hand finds your shoulder and slips down your arm. the muscles there relaxed from sleep and contentment. my finger tips trace the fine hair on your chest and wander down your belly as you stir, your body awakening to my touch. my hand slides up over your hip and down the back of your smooth thigh and i hear you mmmm as you press against me, the soft skin of your ass in the warm place where my hips bend. our feet tangle together as you turn towards me, laying on your back as i nestle my head on your shoulder, as your arm slips under my neck to cradle me. my thigh slides up over yours as i wrap my my leg around yours, feeling the warmth of your calf with my toes. your hand brushes the hair from my face and caresses my cheek as you lean your head down and kiss my forehead. i tilt my head up and kiss your mouth, soft sweet lips. mornin' baby. my hand rests on your chest, rising and falling with your breath, fingers tracing your hard nipples. your hand stroking my arm. i turn on my back as you turn again, your arm still under my neck, your leg slides over my hips, your sweet breath in my ear as you mmmm some more. your hand slides up my belly and caresses my breast, you roll my nipple in your fingers and i mmmm as another part of me awakens with your touch. my hips press up into your thigh and you wrap you leg around me tighter, pulling me to you. i turn again and you wrap your arm around my waist and tuck me into you, your belly in the small of my back, your warm breath now on the back of my neck. i reach back and run my hand across your ass and pull you to me as i feel your hips press against me, the front of your thighs into the back of mine. and i feel you stirring behind me, feel your cock awaken with each motion of your hips against me, feel the heat of it against my skin. it makes me wet, the feel of your cock there, rubbing against my ass. mornin' baby. mmm i turn once more onto my back, slide over, perpendicular to you, slip one leg between yours and the other over your waist, as your cock finds it's way into me. you wrap your arm around my leg as i hook my elbow around your knee. and we begin that slow sweet fucking, the heat of you inside me. right now i want you to stay there forever, your knee on my belly, your thigh between my legs, sweet warm friction. i reach down and hold on to your ass, squeeze it, scratch it, dig my nails into in. our hips grind together as you pull my leg down farther and farther until i can feel the hair of your beard on the back of my ankle. we are locked together and each in our own sweet place. not thinking, only feeling, the heat there, where we are joined. and the feel of soft warm skin, the way we fit together. and i want you to stay there forever...

i'm the boss

2005-11-10T07:18:00.000-08:00

i am pretty much alone every day until about mid-morning. i usually work at my desk while it is quiet and then head out to the shop when other folks start showing up. it's pretty laid back here, there's no time clock, no bells ringing or whistles blowing. and you know what? i'm the boss, which makes it even better. the buck stops here and i like that. i surround myself with good people, people i can trust to get the job done without much direction from me. which leaves me free to do things that i need to do. self employed. oh yeah. happy hnt!

imagine that

2005-11-09T13:52:00.000-08:00

i was thinking about a day when i first met joe it was the first time i called him. after we had been together at the motel. he was on my mind, the look of him in my head, the smell of him in my nostrils, the feel of his hands on me. i paced the house, i paced the yard and couldn't shake it. i picked up the phone and paced with it in my hand. finally i dialed and waited for someone to answer. and he did. that voice of his, there was no question in my mind that it was him. i could hardly speak, but he sensed the hesitation in me and talked quietly to me. i finally told him i wanted to meet him somewhere. he didn't know where i lived and i didn't know where he lived, and at that point that was how i wanted it. we decided to meet at the 7-11 near his place. he was waiting in the parking lot and climbed into my car when i pulled up. we decided to go to a park that was nearby. i wanted to be in public with him. i wanted to talk to him and didn't trust myself to be alone with him. when we got there, there was a cop parked in the parking lot. we turned right around and left. there was another park not far away and we drove there. i parked my car in the crowded parking lot and climbed out of the car. we walked through the park looking for a place to sit, him slightly behind me, his hand on my elbow, me very conscious of his confidence and my lack of it. i felt like i could hardly hide the fact that i wanted to wrap my arms around him, my legs around him. fuck. we finally sat under a tree. we watched all the kids around us, all the families doing what families do. we talked a little, we held hands. i was a wreck. he would catch me looking at him and he would smile and say "what?". all i could do was shake my head and say "nothing". my heart was pounding, i was a wreck. i put my hand on him and ran my fingers down his leg. he didn't say anything, he just looked at me. man we have to get out of here, i can't keep my hands off you. "well, we're going to have to wait a few minutes." he lifted the bottom of his flannel shirt and i could see his hard cock under his jeans. we laughed quietly and looked at each other. "where are we going to go?" fuck, i don't know. let's just drive and see where we end up. and that's what we did. i drove and we groped each. we drove out to the country, on roads that we remembered from our youth as being quiet. roads that aren't so quiet anymore, thirty years later. roads that used to be pretty deserted and now have driveways and gates and traffic on them. we drove farther and farther out, each mile seeming longer. i finally saw a wide spot in the road, oak trees all around, and i pulled over. we climbed out of the car and headed into the woods, my pulse racing. we walked through a gate and found a little stream running, hidden from the road. i turned to him and we kissed, deep and frantic. i felt his hard body under my hands and his hard cock between us. i don't even remember who unbuckled who, but i stepped out of my wet panties and jeans and bent over in front of him, standing in the gravel and the weeds. he fucked me hard and i came fast with all the build up, but he kept on and on, his hands pulling my hips, his belt buckle jangling against the sound of the water running in the stream. i was conscious of the sound of cars on the road, the soft look of his leather boots down behind my feet. i remember thinking "who the fuck is this guy and what the fuck am i doing here". we fucked for a long time and i don't think he came. i wondered about that, although i don't anymore. his cock stays hard and he's usually unconcerned about whether he comes or not, just that i do. imagine that. he finally pulled out of me and patted my ass, i was woozy when i stood up and he held onto me. i pulled my clothes back on and we looked around, chuckling to ourselves. i realized later that something had bitten me, twice, on the leg. it took a month for those bites to heal and before they could i had moved him in with me.

life is hectic sometimes

2005-11-08T07:35:00.000-08:00

yesterday my daughter got married! to a young man she has known since she was 14. his first words to me after were "hey mom!" he told me how much she means to him, how much he loves her, what a good girl she is and how he had never had anyone love him the way she does. and i saw my daughter's eyes while he said this to me. she was glowing. it amazes me, but i think they figured it out. figured out what it took me decades to figure out. if you don't communicate what you want and need, how you really feel about things, how can anyone ever know. they have a depth of passion in them that i've only recently uncovered in myself. yesterday i witnessed the beginning a new life for my girl. i'm so fucking proud to be her mama. yesterday we took joe's son to his third outpatient treatment class. and he told us he got a job. full time unloading trucks at one of the big shopping malls. he just needs to pass the piss test, no sweat he says, and he can start on thursday. his attitude is great, he is looking forward to working, he told me he's looking forward to having money that he didn't steal or get from selling drugs. he's looking forward to the physical labor, getting back in shape. he's eating better and putting on weight, gained 12 pounds in the last couple weeks. his cheeks aren't hollow anymore, his eyes are clear. i spent friday evening with him at the kitchen table, i did my first tattoo on his left arm as he coached me. he feigned tears and then ribbed me for going easy on him, we laughed and he hugged me, told me i did good and he was proud of me. joe watched us with a smile on his face, and pride in his eyes. yesterday was my three month wedding anniversary. we had a little time to ourselves, we always make that time. we sit quiet and kiss and look into each others eyes. his arm around me, my leg draped over his. our fingers interlocked. his breath on my face as i snuggle into his neck. it's sweet, that place, our time, our sanctuary. life is hectic sometimes, but we always find that place.

i'm a rebel

2005-11-03T07:45:00.000-08:00

it's been a hellava week for me. but i'll get through it i always do thistle the scottish symbol for courage and rebellion

i feel a little guilty because i haven't been out to read your blog all week, but i sure need to see your skin this morning. forgive me? happy hnt!

turning point

2005-10-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

joe's youngest son is a tweeker. a meth addict. he is 22 and weighs 135 pounds. he called here last night. no one has heard from him in three weeks. he called and asked us to come and pick him up from a place in a hard part of town. when i saw him my heart sank. he is gray and sucked up. he climbed in the car and about passed out in the backseat. his dad talked to him but he hardly answered more than "yeah" and "no" and "i know". we stopped to get him a pack of smokes and when his dad got out of the car i told i was glad he called, his dad had been worried about him. he said "i know, i haven't called anybody. i feel like a piece of shit" he told me that he had been sick for two days. coming down. later he told us he had seen someone die a couple of days ago. die from too much dope. i saw the look in his eyes. haunted. hunted. i know it was hard for him to call us. i know it's hard for him to listen when his dad tells him that everyday we check the county sheriff website to see if he's in jail. i saw his lip quiver when his dad told him that when the phone rings he doesn't want to answer because he's afraid it will be the call that tells him his son is dead somewhere. i worry because i know he needs to hear those things, but i don't want him to run. he is on probation and is supposed to start outpatient treatment soon. they will drug test him and if he comes up dirty he will go back to jail. he has used up his county time and will go to the state pen. joe's tells me with the condition he is in now, in the pen, they would have a field day with his ass, and he would end up someone's bitch. he has agreed to go to NA meetings. we told him we would go with him. i think he is at a turning point. i'm worried which way he will go.

bitten

2005-10-27T07:01:00.000-07:00

sometimes i feel like a kid

hell, a lot of the time i feel like a kid

but you know i ain't a kid

and that's just fine with me.

happy hnt!

beautiful

2005-10-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

"you're beautiful" i laughed, "what's so funny?" i don't know, it just seems funny. i'm sitting here in my dirty work clothes, hair a mess, reading glasses parked on my head... it's just funny to me that you say that when i look like this. "what, nobody ever told you that before?" well yeah, but not to my everyday self. you know what i mean. i was out of circulation for a long time. and then, the men i was with, they never really saw me like this, i plucked at my work shirt and rubbed the dirty knees of my jeans. "no, what did you wear when you went to see them?" well, i usually wore jeans, but they were always clean. "you never wore a dress or a skirt?" no, well, once i did. i wore my little black dress, the one with the flowers on it. "and who did you wear that for?" for the young guy, he asked me to. "did you wear panties?" no, just the dress and shoes. "did you finger yourself on the way to his place?" no, it was too fucking cold. he found the dress in my closet "put it on, show me." i took off my clothes and pulled on the dress, slipped on the shoes i wore that night, two inch platform sandals. "was he waiting for you?" when i came in he was sitting at the computer looking at porn. "show me what you did" i turned him around, showed him as i talked to him, i came up behind him and kissed his neck, ran my hands down his chest. his cock was already hard, just like yours is now. he stood up and faced me, we kissed, he kissed me hard but we didn't kiss like you and i kiss, just little kisses and i kissed him gently, several times, as i ran my hands down his back and across his ass. "then what did he do?" he turned me around, bent me over, flipped up my dress and fucked the shit out of me while he spanked me. "mmm, yeah?" yeah he took the paddle off the doorknob and slapped his hand with it, motioned for me to turn around. when i did, he put his hand on my back and i bent over the bed. he lifted my dress and ran his hand across my ass then smacked me hard with paddle, i jumped and stood up but he put his hand on my shoulder and i knew to bend over again. he knows i like it hard and my acting defensive is part of the ritual. he smacked me again as i pointed my ass at him. "such a sweet ass" and he smacked it again, i jumped and then pushed back towards him. i could feel his hard cock in the crack of my ass and i pushed against it, working my hips as i looked back at him. i could see the paddle in his hand as he looked at my ass, see the intent in his eyes. he swatted me again on each side and i felt a little moan come from my throat as he slipped his cock into me. i turned my head away so i wouldn't see the paddle, wouldn't know when it was going to land. he fucked me steadily while he smacked my ass again and again. but his rhythm with the paddle was not consistent, i was never sure when it would hit, and the anticipation of it made me more and more anxious. i pounded against him, reaching back to grab his leg or squeeze his balls. i felt his nails dig into my waist as mine dug into his thigh. he dropped the paddle and smacked me with his hand and the tone of our fucking changed, my breath more ragged, his grunts more pronounced. i kept trying to regain my footing as the bed inched closer to the wall. i could feel myself so close to cumming, contracting my pussy around his cock, feeling the pressure there, the ache, the almost delirious feeling just before... i came as he smacked me again, pushing onto him, pulling at his legs, and then i felt him cum as he grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. we stayed that way for a minute, me with my ass pointed up, his cock buried in me, the rest of me limp on the bed. he caressed my ass as he pulled out of me. i crawled up on the bed and he laid down next to me. we smiled at each other, "did you like that?" i chuckled, i'm so glad you're bad. "yeah?" oh yeah...

is it tuesday already?

2005-10-25T08:19:00.000-07:00

the birds are eating the pecans off my tree. the crows take them on to the roof and peck them open. it sounds like someone's knocking at the door.... i was sitting on the toilet in a campgound bathroom the other morning and saw a beetle trapped in a trashcan. i should have let it free, but i didn't. i was busy. later that night i went back and the beetle was dead. i felt bad. and i wondered why beetles always die on their backs, legs sticking up in the air. do they kick themselves over in their final death throws? i was stoned.... i sometimes wonder if i'm enough for him. and then he tells me he sometimes wonders if he's enough for me.... the phone rings but i don't answer it. my business phone. fuck 'em, they'll leave a message. my coffee is cold. do i drink it cold or nuke it? it's a dilemma. my feet are cold. and i don't know where my slippers are. do i look for them? another dilemma. i have two male dogs, one has balls and the other one doesn't. it's the one without balls that tries to hump me. what the fuck is with that? perhaps i should reword that question.... i am seriously hating my work this week. i need some creative outlet. i need my hands to create something beautiful, not just something functional. but my hands have been doing functional for so long i'm afraid they've forgotten how to do beautiful. and i'm afraid to find out if that's true....

beggin' for your mark

2005-10-20T07:20:00.000-07:00

soft white skin yearnin' for your caress soft white skin putty in your hands soft white skin yours for the taking soft white skin beggin' for your mark happy hnt!

happy birthday kid

2005-10-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

today i will be cooking ribs and baking a cake for a friend of my daughter's. it's his 24th birthday. he doesn't remember anyone ever making him a birthday cake. christ. his mother left him when he was two. he lived with his drug addicted father in a house that his grandmother paid the rent on. when he was twelve his father went out and never came back. he lived alone for two months until someone noticed. he has never met his mother and only knows his father was in town recently because he found a warrant for his arrest on the county jail website. he's been hanging out around here for a little while now, and has had dinner with us, shot pool with us, drank beer with us. he's a sweet kid, always polite and respectful. when he says thanks for dinner i can see it in his face. we sit down to dinner here. all of us around the big table. there is no assigned seating, no head of the table so to speak. sometimes the chair at the end of the table is empty. no one person rules this place. it's more like a commune here. and we tend to pick up strays. or they pick us up. we eat simple food, meat and potatoes, hamburger helper. a double batch. usually there's none left over. bread and butter take up the slack, stretch it enough to fill one more plate. one more potato in the pot.

there are places i remember when i was growing up. places that just felt like home even if they weren't. warm, soft places. somewhere you could land if you needed to. my daughter commented to me the other day how good we have it here. yeah, it's home.

right there

2005-10-13T07:46:00.000-07:00

you put your lips right there, whisper to me, make me shiver with anticipation you put your lips right there your warm breath your soft tongue the coarse hair of your mustache you put your lips right there nibble my earlobe pull my earrings with your teeth that little growl of yours you put your lips right there whisper to me tell me how much i want you tell me how bad i want you you put your lips right there run your tongue down my neck while you hold my hands behind my back you put your lips right there whisper to me tell me that i want you tell me that i need you you put your lips right there your chest grazes my hard nipples your hands tighten around mine you bite my shoulder you put your lips right there whisper to me tell me where you will put your lips tell me where you will put your tongue you put your lips right there kiss me

tell me goodbye let me simmer all day....

more left undone...

2005-10-11T09:08:00.000-07:00

i've been talking to my daughter a lot the last couple weeks. she has recently ended a seven year relationship. she's only twenty two, but she is an old soul. we've been talking about the similarities between that relationship and my twenty seven year relationship with her father. we've been talking about her relationship with her father. we've been talking about my relationship with joe and her new one with a different guy. we have laughed and cried and hugged and smoked and drank... my daughter lives in a small house in my back yard. i get to see her everyday. she is a beautiful, talented, honest, brave, responsible, up front and ferocious. she don't take no shit. i have written before about some of the turmoil she has gone through with her father. she is coming to the understanding that her father has some serious issues. i mean, she has always known that to a point, but she is starting to realize that it's something she can't fix. that it's something that started before she was born. it's something that she was the focus of and not the cause of. she has struggled because she felt like he didn't love her. she felt his rage and it scares her because she knows that she is capable of that same rage. he has said things to her that cut her to the core and she knows that she has that in her too. the ability to say that one thing to that one person that can scar them for life. she has been talking to an old friend of ours. someone who knew my ex before i did. someone who knows me separate from my ex. he's been giving her history, helping her see from the outside. he's been telling her things i had forgotten. or blocked out of my memory. i am indebted to him. i am not one to talk trash about anybody. and i always tried not to bad mouth my ex to my kids, but i never actually tried to hide the truth from them. did i? for a lot of years i didn't know the truth, or knew the truth and couldn't face it. my friend told my daughter about the time her father tried to kill himself, how he wrote letters to everyone and gave those letters to our friend, then drove his car into a concrete underpass. our friend still has those letters. i have never seen them. he told her about a conversation i had on the phone with him years ago. he had asked how things were going at home. i told him "the kids have to see too much". he told her that he never forgot that. i did.

a post i couldn't finish

2005-10-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

both my kids are bloggers. i knew my daughter had a place at "my space" but just found out my son does too. i don't think they know about this place. i could be wrong. i used to worry that they would find it, maybe i would leave something open on my computer that would lead them to it. lead them to see parts of me that i wasn't ready for them to know about. there are things here that i would not put in their faces, but they are grown and if they happened to find this place they could deal with it. this place has been on my mind. a lot. it's the one secret i have from my man. and that is eating at me some. the other reason it has been on my mind is because i have made some wonderful friends here. friends that have followed me and had my back, people that put light into me everyday. i even got to meet one of them. got to put my arms around her, have coffee with her and see the sunshine in her eyes. it was incredible. meeting someone face to face who already knows your insides, your wants and needs, your hopes and dreams, your nightmares and your hurts. someone who knows your real face and not just the one you present to the world. i want joe to get to know these people. from the inside. like i do. my daughter has been writing to a guy that she knew from high school. they were very close, but lost touch with each other until she recently ran into a mutual friend that put them in contact with each other. they have been writing to each other for the last couple months. we were talking yesterday and she was telling me how wonderful it was that they were getting to know each other again through these letters. she told me how many of their letters were very similar, how he would send her one and it would be almost word for word the same letter she had just sent to him. the look on her face when she said how amazing it was that he wasn't afraid to express his feelings. i've felt that look on my own face.

backspace and delete

2005-10-11T08:37:00.000-07:00

i have a lot of shit rolling around in my head.

i have three drafts that i can't finish.

i keep going back and forth but can't find the words to continue any of them.

i even tried starting something from scratch.

that just added to the list of unfinished drafts.

so here i am.

i am so not here...

i am in the past and in the future.

in bed but not asleep.

my hands resting on the keyboard and the only keys that seem to function are backspace and delete.

hnt

2005-10-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

do me right....

goddess erotica, promises ~ part 2

2005-10-05T07:00:00.001-07:00

this is part 2 of a audiopost collaboration of my post "promises" for part 1, go listen to flygirl for part 3, go listen to simply satisfied for part 4, go listen to maddy for part 5, go listen to muse

he will lay there still, for a little while, and let me suckle him, let me take his balls into my mouth, probe him with my tongue, my hand on the inside his thigh, stroking his smooth skin. i feel his hand in my hair as his cock stirs, his hand caressing my head as my mouth caresses him. his hips rise to meet me and i slip my hand under his ass and squeeze his cheeks, and pull him to me. "god damn, baby" mmm happy humpday!

promises

2005-09-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

i love sucking his cock when it's soft. when it's pliable. when i can roll it around in my mouth, suck it gently while he lays still on the bed. when i can cup his loose balls in my hand, rub the skin there between my fingers. i run my teeth down the base of his shaft, bite him gently, hum my pleasure to him while he watches me. he will lay there still, for a little while, and let me suckle him, let me take his balls into my mouth, probe him with my tongue, my hand on the inside his thigh, stroking his smooth skin. i feel his hand in my hair as his cock stirs, his hand caressing my head as my mouth caresses him. his hips rise to meet me and i slip my hand under his ass and squeeze his cheeks, and pull him to me. "god damn, baby" mmm his hips keep my rhythm as i move my mouth up and down, tongue circling, teeth grazing and i grip the base of his cock with my thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing him as his cock grows in my mouth. longer, thicker and harder. i slide my free hand up to pinch his nipple and he turns on his side. he slides one leg up over my shoulder and rocks his hips as i wrap my leg around his other leg and run my fingers down the crack of his sweet ass. "mmm, god damn...." we stay this way for a long time, tangled up together, him fucking my mouth as i stroke his ass, his balls as his sack tightens around them. his hands in my hair, pressing my forehead to his belly. i love the taste of that first little bit of cum as it touches my tongue, love the promise of it. every so often i will let his cock slip out of my mouth, grip him with my hand and let his cock rub my cheek or my neck. when i take him back into my mouth he moans as my tongue runs down the underside of him. i feel the urgency brewing him him, but then he will back off a little, linger there a while longer as he tangles his fingers in my hair. then the urgency builds in him again, and in me. he pulls me tighter to him, his hips move quicker, then slow again as he grinds his hips into my face, then faster as my forehead bounces off his belly, his fingers twisted tighter in my hair, me feeling the muscles working in his ass and his legs. i relish this moment, just before he cums, the fever in his body, the slickness of his sweat, then his final hard thrust, my mouth explodes with the taste him. then he slows, the tension going out of his body as i tease ever bit from him. mmm promise fulfilled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to hear a five part audiopost of this entry start here

santa ana winds

2005-09-29T08:31:00.000-07:00

it's fucking hot here.... hnt.

love letters

2005-09-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

the man keeps a small notebook in his truck, mostly for figures and phone numbers and the like. but tucked in the back of that notebook are letters he wrote to his ex. he left her last december. and then had second thoughts. he tried his best to get her to take him back. she didn't, but he tried. he had told me before about the letters and poems he had sent her. he would write them down longhand and then type them and send them to her by email. while we were on the road he showed me those letters. we spent three days at her house gathering up his stuff, me listening to them bicker over belongings, what food to feed the dog. she was sweet to me and it was not uncomfortable. i had apprehensions about it, but after the first night it was fine. she offered us her bed but i just couldn't do that. on the way back home, he asked me if i'd had some worries about meeting her, he had sensed something in me when we were on our way to washington. i told him that i had worried some because i knew he had loved her and i also knew he hadn't seen her since he left. i worried that being in her presence might spark something in him, in them. but seeing them together i knew it was over between them. seems silly now.... as we drove we talked and he told me he was glad that i knew it was over, how what we had was different than anything he'd had with anyone before. he talked about the things i had written and given to him, how the words made him feel. "i still have the letters i wrote to her, they're right here in this notebook" oh yeah? "yeah, when we get home i want you to take them and shred them" really, you want to shred them? "yeah, but you can read them first if you want to" i would love to read them, if you're sure you want me to. "sure, there's nothing in them that i haven't already told you" he pulled out the notebook and handed me those letters, nodded his head and said "it's okay, go ahead." as i read them, i got choked up. not so much by the thought that these words were directed at her, but just by the fact that he had written them. that these words were inside of him. that he had spent the time to put them together and write them down. it touched my heart... baby, those are beautiful. "you really think so?" yeah baby, i do. i hope it doesn't take something like that before you write to me. he looked at me and smiled, patted my hand, "now we'll take them home and you can shred them." you shred them if you want to, but don't do it because of me. those are your memories and i would never expect to erase them. i have things i wrote before i met you. it doesn't change the way i feel about you. we have both been through a lot in ours lives, things that made us who we are now. i'm just thankful she didn't take you back. "me too. thank you deborah" thank you deborah... as different as we are, as different as our lives have been, the longer i know him the more i realize we are the same. we have brought things out in each other that have been dormant for a long time. at 46 and 53 we are like teenagers, but we are realizing what life has laid before us. and ain't it fucking grand!

my mind

2005-09-22T09:20:00.000-07:00

is in the toilet this half naked thursday morning. too funny....

inside of us

2005-09-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

last night i found the man sitting in his truck listening to some old country music. i had been working late in the shop and i think sometimes he is still a bit lost around here. it's a busy place, this house of mine, with the kids coming and going, the people that come here to work and with me running around in circles. sometimes he needs a quiet place of his own. so i found him in his truck listening to some old song, "i believe in you" by don williams, i don't believe in superstars, organic food and foreign cars. i don't believe the price of gold, the certainty of growing old. that right is right and left is wrong, that north and south can't get along. that east is east and west is west. and being first is always best. but i believe in love. i believe in babies. i believe in mom and dad. and i believe in you. well, i don't believe that heaven waits, for only those who congregate. i like to think of god as love: he's down below, he's up above. he's watching people everywhere. he knows who does and doesn't care. and i'm an ordinary man, sometimes i wonder who i am. but i believe in love. i believe in music. i believe in magic. and i believe in you. well, i know with all my certainty, what's going on with you and me, is a good thing. it's true, i believe in you. i don't believe virginity, is as common as it used to be. in working days and sleeping nights, that black is black and white is white. that superman and robin hood, are still alive in hollywood. that gasoline's in short supply, the rising cost of getting by. but i believe in love. i believe in old folks. i believe in children. i believe in you. but i believe in love. i believe in babies. i believe in mom and dad. and i believe in you.

and he sings to me in his rough voice, whispers the words to me between kisses. after the song was over i told him to wait there, i came in the house and printed out the text from my post yesterday, rumble, and took it to him. it still takes a force of will for me to hand him my words, just some bit of insecurity in me.

he took the sheet of paper and put on my glasses. i read it over his shoulder and even though i wrote it and even though i had read it before, i started to cry. the tears were running down my face. and when he turned his face to me i could see that he was fighting back his own. he put his hands on my face and wiped my tears, he doesn't ask me why i'm crying because he knows.

the world is alive, inside of us.

later, he took that sheet of paper and showed it to my mother. my mother has no idea that i write, has never read anything i've ever written. i was nervous about that. she stood quietly at the kitchen counter reading it as i cooked dinner. when she finished she looked at him and said "you need to frame this". my mother is not easy with compliments. it's not that she isn't interested or enthusiastic, it's just that she is not very expressive, verbally. or physically. this man is changing my mother, for the better, with his honesty and his love.

i didn't realize how much i needed her to know the passion that is in me, the depth of the love i feel for this man. she looked at us differently last night. and she smiled.

rumble...

2005-09-20T07:25:00.000-07:00

it's raining here this morning. i like the rain. but it doesn't rain much here, usually. thunderstorms preceding hurricane mike. thunder and lightening. i like thunder and lightening. i never remember being afraid of thunder or lightening. even when i was a kid.

i can remember laying under the covers of my bed listening to the thunder, hearing the world alive outside my window, feeling the rumble in my chest.

last night i laid next to the man, flesh to flesh and listened to the thunder, felt the rumble in my chest, felt the rumble in his chest. his arms wrapped around me, his leg over my hip. i have never felt a part of another human being the way i feel with him.

i remember when my children were babies, when i held them and nursed them, i felt they were part of me. i missed the feeling of them in my belly, missed the movement of them, the kicks and the pokes and the rumble inside me when they turned and rolled. the twitch of their hiccups, watching the shape of my belly change as an elbow or knee pushed outward. after they were born i felt physically empty and the only cure for that was to hold them. and i held them, nursed them, rocked them, walked them, looked into their eyes as i caressed their brow and saw the love there. people told me i spoiled them. maybe i did. but now they are grown and they are still part of me. they still look at me the same way, put their arms around me and say "how's my mama?"

they will always be a part of me.

now i am part of someone else. it's a different connection. all my life i have been the shelter from the storm. now someone shelters me. it was strange to me at first and hard for me to believe, that there was someone that wanted to be there for me. not someone who wanted me so i could be there for them. someone like me.

sometimes he looks at me and says "where have you been all my life?"

sometimes i look at him and say "what took me so long to find you?"

sometimes we look at each other and say "where'd i find you?" and we say "in a bar" and we laugh.

last night when we laid together, his fingers tracing my spine and mine tracing his, i could feel that rumble that passes between us and the world was alive. but not outside the window, it was alive inside of us.

did you feel it?

the crow has landed

2005-09-13T07:44:00.000-07:00

but i'm still going in circles trying to catch up. bleh. still trying to wrap my mind around the work i need to do, getting the toilet back in the bathroom, dealing with a new dog, trying to figure out the new noise my car is making, ants in the kitchen. and right now all i want to do is lay in bed with joe.... feel his body under my fingers, his warmth next to me, his hand on my breast, his breath in my ear... see? it's no wonder i can't think. fuck.

you made a difference

2005-08-25T15:57:00.000-07:00

you did. go see my satisfied sister thanks, really.

DON'T LET IT DIE

2005-08-25T08:25:00.000-07:00

from protect.org

there's an old saying in politics, "children don't vote" that old saying is supposed to explain why children do not inspire fear and respect among elected leaders. but the real reason children always lose out in the political arena is that adults don't fight for children the way they fight for themselves.

fight people. get off your asses and fight. those are my words. i am challenging you.

DON'T LET IT DIE

~~~~~~~~ California Senate Bill 33 is now on suspense. This is not a good thing folks so here goes... here's the pitch... I need all my blog buddies and blog lurkers (I know you're out there) to send letters (faxing would be best) to the Assembly Appropriations Chairperson asking to allow the full Assembly to vote on it... don't let it die. The decision by the Chairperson will have to made by Friday, August 26th... If you want to help... and you can help even if you don't live in California... go here Do it for the children. They need your help. ~Simply Satisfied

look over here....

2005-08-23T07:08:00.000-07:00

i have been working this evening, trying to get caught up so i can leave town on the first. he has fallen asleep on the couch watching tv, waiting for me to call him to bed. i can hear him softly snoring. that's a soothing sound. he only snores when he's lying on his back and he's quiet about it, not that sawing logs sound some folks make, just a soft sound, almost like he's purring..... arms folded over his chest, he looks so peaceful, so sweet. i know better, he's a devil. we sit on the front porch in the morning when we drink our coffee. on the sofa. you know the sofa. nice view of the neighborhood out there, on the front porch. there are also two old office chairs out there. the kind with arms. you can kick back and prop up your elbows, which is conducive to holding a coffee cup or a bottle of beer. they also give you leverage when you are sitting bare assed in someone's lap. i know what's up when i come out and he's sitting in one of those chairs. he'll sit there rubbing his cock thought the fabric of his pants "come here baby, sit in my lap" he looks at me sideways as he slips his hard cock out of his fly and slides down to the edge of the chair. i look back at him over the rim of my coffee cup. "come on babydoll, come sit in my lap" you're a devil "you know i am, come on babydoll" he pats his leg, that sideways look, the little grin on his face. he's a devil. and i can't resist him. even on the porch. i wear this long gauzy nightgown around the house in the morning. we both sleep naked, most the time without a sheet or blanket, and i'll slip that old nightgown on before i come out of the bedroom. as i get up and i set my coffee cup on the table, he rubs the head of his cock with a little spit. i hike up my nightie and back up to him as he holds his cock. as i ease down on top of him his cock slips right into my pussy. damn i love that feeling. the first stroke, my pussy so tight around his cock, and i'll sit there for a moment grinding into him as he spreads the cheeks of my ass so i can take more of him. "mmm, godamm babydoll, it's feels so good being inside you" fuck yeah my nightie swirls down around us, hiding what we're up to from the neighborhood. he slips his hands under it and caresses my tits, pinches my nipples, puts his hands on my waist and pushes me up. i reach back behind me and grab the arms of the chair, pulling myself back down on top of him, slowly grinding his cock into my pussy. slowly fucking as the little old lady from down the street goes by on her morning walk. will she sense what's going on here? will she look over at us? we keep slowly fucking as she walks by. is she unaware or is she choosing not to look? in my mind i'm saying to her, over here honey, look over here.... the thought of her seeing us, her realization that we are fucking on the front porch, the thought of the look on her face makes me want to fuck him harder, faster, louder. he must sense what i'm thinking and when i lean back he starts talking to me, "you like it this way, don't you?" oh yeah "you like to ride it, be in control." fuck yeah "and you don't care who sees us, do you?" no, i don't care. i wanted her to see. give her something to think about for the rest of the day. he chuckles in my ear, "you're so fucking bad." yeah, you like me this way "hmm, i love you this way." he slides further down in the chair, grabs the cheeks of my ass as i lean over forward and grab the legs of the chair then fuck him harder. i love the feeling of being bent over this way, love the feeling of his cock deep inside me, knowing if he could see it he would be watching my ass riding up and down on him. i'm feeling the blood rushing to my head as he pats my ass, getting my attention. i raise up my head to see a middle-aged man with four dogs walking past the house. the biggest dog has stopped and is looking our way, ears up, almost pointing at us. the man gives the leash a tug, but the dog is reluctant. i sit straight up as the man tugs again, glancing at us quickly, but not "seeing" us. as i make eye contact with the dog he slowly starts to walk away and the man hurries off down the street. now i am practically frantic, so close to cumming i couldn't stop if i wanted to. i grind his cock into me and cum as i hear our room mate walk past the front door on his way to the shower. i want to cry out but i don't, i keep fucking him slowly and then lean back into his chest. he hmmms into my ear and i hmmm back at him. "you're so fucking bad" yeah, you love me this way "yeah i do. now i'm going to take you in the house and take off your nightgown so i can spank that sweet ass." i wonder what the room mate thinks.... he never gives a clue.

bursting

2005-08-18T08:18:00.000-07:00

my brother is home. doing pretty well considering. the suspect is still at large, but at least they know who he is. now they just have to find him. yeah. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i am getting ready for a trip. going to see a my other best girlfriend. in idaho. it's been too long. then to pick up joe's dog in washington. from his ex. we're taking our little tent and hitting the road. kinda like a honeymoon. seems funny to meet his ex on our honeymoon. she wants to take me shopping. i'm not a shopper. oh well. i'll survive. leaving on the first, back on the twelfth. can't fucking wait. i have not had a real vacation in years. a couple of long weekends, but not a real vacation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ two people i love have professed their love for each other. my heart is bursting.

dedicated

2005-08-16T08:03:00.000-07:00

my soul sister dedicated this song to me and joe. it fits. perfectly. love you darlin' i mean you, sister. i believe... shattered dreams, wasted years, here am i encased inside a hollow shell, life began, then was done, now i stare into a cold and empty well the many sounds that meet our ears the sights our eyes behold, will open up our merging hearts, and feed our empty souls i believe when i fall in love with you it will be forever, i believe when i fall in love with you it will be forever without despair we will share, and the joy of caring will not be replaced, what has been must never end and with the strength we have won't be erased when the truths of love are planted firm, they won't be hard to find, and the words of love i speak to you will echo in my mind i believe when i fall in love with you it will be forever, i believe when i fall in love this time it will be forever i believe when i fall in love with you it will be forever, i believe when i fall in love this time it will be forever.....

2005-08-16T06:55:00.000-07:00

this is my brother what the story doesn't say is that he was stabbed 17 times. over a parking issue. got that? the story says his injuries were not considered life-threatening, but what it doesn't say, what the doctor said, that any of five different wounds he received could have killed him. he was stabbed 7 times in the chest, five times in the head, one of which fractured his skull at his temple. he was stabbed in the face, the wound just missed his eye and entered his sinus cavity. he was stabbed in the neck, arms and hand. the guy even stabbed him in the ass. he has a fractured rib and a partially collapsed lung, another wound barely missing his spleen. he was walking his dogs early in the morning and talking to himself about the inconsiderate way someone had parked their car on the sidewalk causing him to have to go out into the street. a woman heard him and hollered out the window that she could park any damn way she pleased. they had words as he walked away. her "significant other" came out of the house and told my brother to come back so he could kick his ass. my brother said "if you want to kick my ass, come down here and do it." he continued walking, but heard the man get in his car and squeal out of the driveway. my brother runs his two large dogs with them leashed around his waist and when the man came at my brother he didn't know the man had a knife. my brother thought he was being punched and caught the guy around the neck with his elbow, wrestling with him and the dogs on the ground. he finally subdued the guy after realizing he was being stabbed and asked him what the fuck was wrong with him. the guy said "you hit my wife", my brother said he didn't touch the wife and the man stopped fighting him. then asked him if he wanted him to call him an ambulance. what the fuck? the man got away from him and my brother ran two blocks to the house where he lives with my mother, shouting for help the whole way. he got back to the house, went in through the garage door, put the dogs in the house and called 911 from the garage phone. he said that when he took his hand off his side he could hear the gurgle of air escaping his lung. the paramedics came and took him to the trauma unit while my mother slept inside the house. she heard the dogs barking and aggravated, she finally got up to see what they were barking at. someone was pounding on the door, but my mother is not one to answer the door. when she looked out the window she saw the sheriff and finally answered the door she saw my brothers bloody shirt. the blood trail leads right to her driveway. the sheriff called me shortly after 6 am to have me come and be with her. when i got there i could hardly get down the street and they would not let me into the house, now considered a crime scene. we gave the sheriff her house key and went to the hospital. when they finally let us in to see him, i expected it to be bad and i am not usually affected by the sight of blood, but looking at him and realizing how close he came to dying made me weak in the knees and i broke out into a sweat. physically, he will be a hurting mutherfucker for a little while. the suspect is still at large. i hope they catch the fucker before my brother gets out of the hospital. my "inside" sources tell me they know who he is, he is a known gang banger. fucking great. my mother will not leave her house. my son and his friend spent the night there with her last night. this shit doesn't happen to people like us. it doesn't happen, every fucking day......

it's still unfolding

2005-08-11T14:42:00.000-07:00

i hadn't realized, really, how much i had written about joe and me. brian's comment in yesterday's post about us getting married had me thinking about the whole story. i had to go back and read it all. it has only been about four months since i met him, but it seems like so much longer. it's been a hell of a journey for me. i've never met a man that made me feel this intensely. i needed to gather it all up, in one place, here is the story of joe and me. it's still unfolding..... my, my, my sidetracked the game is on bad influence i learned my lesson downstream well, i took him home monogamy have you ever he redeemed himself spit in your eye how to walk with a lady perfect fit there i am weekday blogger come, sit wild hairs? no problem! opening the book chapter one happy anniversary baby ragged dare me mornin' darlin' tattooed again and did you know and i felt like running trusting you slow and fast, fast and slow is this a test? i am a trifle hungover this morning coming to visit sin city the crow soars morning routine five months later, look over here.... the crow has landed rumble... inside of us love letters promises beautiful turning point life is hectic sometimes imagine that lovin' spoonful lately it's seems.. i have a formica burn on my cheekbone.... so, i'm askin' ya... i have no title for this spill it let the wind take it two lone wolves dangling cut the rope not sorry not yet it's an honest, true love story. to be continued....

morning routine

2005-08-11T09:19:00.000-07:00

the alarm went off at 6 this morning, like it does every morning. our room mate was quick to the bathroom this morning and beat joe to the shower, so we had a few minutes to kill before the morning routine started. he always wakes up with a hard dick, just the sight of it makes me crave it. him standing there, me on the edge of the bed, eye level to that wonderful thing looking straight at me. you know i can't keep my mouth off it. even with a split lip from too much sun and dry heat from the weekend, i can't help it. i lick the head of it gently, mmm. wrap my lips around it, gently. roll my tongue around the head, gently. take him deeper into my mouth, gently. mmm. run my tongue down that ridge as my split lip follows. little bites, little nibbles, gently caressing his wonderful ass with both of my hands. mmm mmm. he pulls my head away from his cock, tilts my chin up and looks at me "get out deep purple" i have this dildo. it is officially named raspberry rhapsody, we call it deep purple. holy shit. it's a fun thing, i'm tellin' ya. it can get me off in a couple minutes. i lay down on the end of the bed and slide deep purple into my lubed pussy as he stands at the side of the bed between my legs and watches me. the clit stimulator is instant gratification as i slowly work the dildo with my left hand. he watches me as my hips move, the dildo inside me. watches me as my eyes roll back and my other hand twists my nipple. he moves alongside me, his hard cock in my face. i let go of my own nipple and cup his balls as i take his cock into my mouth. he leans into me as his fingers begin pinching my nipple, harder and harder. i like it hard, like that, the pinch and the pull. he fucks my mouth as i fuck myself, faster and faster. i squeeze his cock hard as i cum. he likes it hard like that too, and he moans as i groan, arching my back, my whole abdomen contracting in orgasm.... as i regain myself i leave the dildo inside and hold it there with my ankle and turn my attention to his hard cock. he likes to see the dildo inside me, watch me move against it as he stands over me and fucks my mouth. he is more gentle than i know he wants to be because of my split lip. he says "are you going to cum again?" i just might he reaches down and takes the dildo in his own hand and starts fucking me with it, deeper and harder than i would fuck myself. good christ, i can feel it in my gut and i put his hand below my belly so he can feel it too. he pushes hard on my gut, the pressure, the fullness, it sends me right back over the edge, and i am reeling in it. as i am gasping for air he slips the dildo out and tosses it on the bed. he pulls me down to meet him as he climbs on top of me and pulls my legs up on his shoulders. he slides his hard cock into me "goddam you came hard, you are soaking wet" oh yeah my pussy is so loose and wet i wonder if he will be able to cum, but he fucks me harder and harder. his cock finds that spot in me, man i can hardly breath. i watch the look on his face, that intense look as he cums hard inside of me. he holds himself there for a minute, kisses me, then slips quickly out of me. i am still trying to catch my breath and he is off to the now vacant bathroom, as i feel our juices run down between my legs and puddle on the sheets.....

the crow soars....

2005-08-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

sunday afternoon at 4:00 i became misses joe, or misses crow, whichever you prefer. did you know the marriage division of the county court house in vegas is open from 8:00 friday morning to 12:00 sunday night? continuously. the line was out the door. we had been joking around about getting hitched in vegas. i talked before about wild hairs... we were at the stock car race saturday and i was giving him shit for something. he was leaning up against the truck and just looked at me and said "shut the fuck up and marry me" truly a poignant moment, huh? anyway, i gave him my standard answer which is "someday" but somebody else heard us and started teasing us about already being newlyweds (you know we can't keep our hands off each other). there was talk of a double wedding with us and another couple that was there. the other woman made a comment about "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". we all laughed and it passed, but it was on my mind all day. this "marriage thing" is real important to him. it's not so for me. that's what i thought anyway. it is a sign of true devotion to him. to me it's been more like a consent to captivity. later that night when we were in the hotel room taking a shower i said to him i had half a mind to take him to the elvis chapel. he kissed me and said "you don't love me enough to marry me" and walked out of the bathroom door. i was quiet as i finished my shower. i thought about the way he looks at me, the way he holds my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. i cried in the shower (you know i do that), cried because i had found a man who looks at me that way. who knows where i've been and the things i've done and still looks at me that way. cried because i know where he's been and the things that he's done and the thought of being without him makes me ache inside. when i got out of the shower i found him laying on the bed. i laid down next to him and put my arms around his neck. he said "take me to the elvis chapel.... shit, you shouldn't tease me like that" i told him shut the fuck up and marry me "are you serious?" fuck yes, i'm serious "right now?" right now we're so fucking romantic.... we would have gone right that minute but the chapel was closed... and you knew it had to be elvis. and he did sing love me tender...... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ thanks, all of you, for your wishes and love.

sin city

2005-08-08T14:09:00.000-07:00

that's misses crow to you

you knew it would be elvis, right?

coming to visit

2005-08-04T07:23:00.000-07:00

hey. i'm getting ready to go to vegas tomorrow. yeah, sin city. i'll be looking for edge..... i would love to bump into him on the street. i would know him in an instant. i'm sure of it. but i don't think he would know me. maybe if he saw my tattoo, but he's never seen my face, except in my dream. i would love to amble by him and caress his ass..... leave him wondering.... so, fuck. i'm working my ass off so i can go out of town and i won't even be gone a single work day. what the fuck is up with that. leave friday afternoon and be back sunday night, and everybody is acting like i'm going to new zealand.... "oh, before you go can you do this, can you go here, can you make sure this gets done.." fuck. we are going to a stock car race in vegas saturday. it will be joe's first experience as a member of the pit crew. he is a little nervous. he still doesn't know many of my friends very well and can feel a little apprehensive because most of my friends are men. but he's a good sport and he'll fit in just fine. and i'm feeling the need for heat, rubber and exhaust. i've been to see my kid drag race and that's a blast, but it's something he does with his dad since the divorce and i'm just a spectator there. and i don't spectate well. i need it under my fingernails, in my hair, in my pores. on sunday we will go to visit joe's sister after we check out of the hotel. other than that and the race, i don't care if we even leave the hotel room. seriously. i will bring my own pillow, my sunscreen for saturday, the lube, maybe a few toys and i'm set. i pack light. i've got joe cocker, mad dogs and englishmen, on winamp right now, bird on a wire with leon russel, feelin' alright..... god this music brings back memories. memories of the backseat of someone's car, smoked just enough to make you feel fluid, feeling the gospel of that music in your backbone. it seems like another life. it was another life. a past life that comes to visit once in a while. joe showed me a picture of himself and his younger brother that was taken ten or twelve years ago. a polaroid. it looks like an ordinary picture but when i looked at it it gave me a strange feeling. it was like the "then" him was looking right at the "now" me. like someone took this picture of him all those years ago just so i could look at it right now. like that picture was taken just for me. that picture is on my bedroom mirror now, but the image of his face, his "then" face, it's like that image has been with me for a long time. it's more like a memory than a recent experience. a different past life, coming to visit. and now winamp plays superstar.... long ago and oh so far away, i fell in love with you... hope your weekend is a good as mine will be. kisses.

i had a dream

2005-07-29T07:55:00.000-07:00

last night that i was walking down the street and happened upon the edge motel i peeked in the door and saw this beautiful silver haired man sitting at the desk. when i looked into his eyes he knew exactly who i was. he put his arms around me and kissed me lightly on the mouth. he said to me, "have i told you lately how bad you are?" i just smiled at him. he wanted to show me around his place and as we turned he gently took my elbow in his hand, leading me this way and that way, introducing me to people i knew, but didn't, never speaking their names, but somehow conveying to me who each of them was, looking each of them in the eye and knowing them. everyone was in their element, including me. it was an easy place. the light was good. not bright, just good. it just felt golden somehow. i didn't get to finish this dream. maybe i will another night. i used to wonder if you dreamt about someone you didn't know if they were real people and maybe at that exact moment they were dreaming of you. but i know the folks there, in that dream. it's all of you.

2005-07-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

i am a trifle hungover this morning. didn't plan on it. do we ever? yeah, we do... went out to shoot pool. you know, i'm fucking good at pool. i lost one game last night. i dropped the eight ball... i played in a bar league when i was 22. then didn't pick up a cue stick for 24 years. started shooting again this last march. do the math... now i shoot better than i ever did. maybe it's the mature vision, seeing with both eyes, or feeling the shots instead of seeing them, or sensing the angles, or gauging the force needed to set up the next shot. kinda like good sex, in the zone... i am a trifle hungover this morning. didn't plan on it. and i'm not quite sure, but i think we have a date with a woman tonight. hmmm

or a cigarette...

2005-07-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

nah. fuck.