tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69313778202417219822024-03-13T11:47:48.021-07:00A View from the Top"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.comBlogger184125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-87309123400644769002014-09-11T05:46:00.000-07:002014-09-11T05:49:08.719-07:00We Must Never Forget<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDFPKU17oDPWbih1AYe9KF6jjBNGzh9x-ZawjEBtCQC0SeZFiGX0G6-oOE4BnNOSz6xAxTx8enBzlGcyYlKdmtX62zb0WiQ_Z6IhTox_FkC00YKXZPlA8Qw5qEzdiLORQ_15l81HmX8IR/s1600/Remember_9_11_X.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDFPKU17oDPWbih1AYe9KF6jjBNGzh9x-ZawjEBtCQC0SeZFiGX0G6-oOE4BnNOSz6xAxTx8enBzlGcyYlKdmtX62zb0WiQ_Z6IhTox_FkC00YKXZPlA8Qw5qEzdiLORQ_15l81HmX8IR/s200/Remember_9_11_X.JPG" height="200" width="195" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-6200781793972510592014-08-16T08:13:00.000-07:002014-08-17T07:08:51.999-07:00Self Expression, Want to be Better?<div align="justify">
Looking for a safe and fun way to improve your interpersonal skills and be your more authentic self? Join others in a weekend long exploration of friendship, intimacy and self discovery. Learn not to be afraid to express who you are and what you want.<br />
<br />
Spend a weekend with like minded souls in the beautiful Texas hill country about two hours east of Austin. The weekend will start with dinner on Friday. Dinner will be followed by games to help people get to know each other, and then there will be a campfire for relaxing and enjoying the evening.<br />
<br />
The rest of the weekend will include games, exercises and a ton of interaction. Take this opportunity in a safe and supportive environment to connect to your sexuality and overcome blocks to its free expression. See how you could better express yourself and interact with others in a way that is more fulfilling and authentic.<br />
<br />
<em style="background-color: white; color: #444444; flex: 0 1 auto; font-family: proxima-nova; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: start;"><b>What’s keeping you from the fullest, freest, most joyful expression of your sexuality?</b></em><br />
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I know the people who are presenting this event, and I can assure you it will be worthwhile and enjoyable.<br />
<br />
Learn more about this exciting weekend adventure at <a href="http://campfrolic.com/"><i>Camp Frolic</i></a>. </div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-63335741890139556232014-05-01T10:24:00.000-07:002014-05-08T19:23:50.822-07:00Concert - Raleigh North Carolina - Saturday, May 31st<div align="justify">
And you can tell people one day - "Yeah, I was there when . . ." <br />
<br />
So, what is this all about? Kat Robichaud was a contestant on the TV show, The Voice, and was one of the Top 10 finalists for season 5, fall of 2013. She had previously been in the band, The Design, which has disbanded. They produced two albums, Laziest Perfectionist and Young America; you can listen to samplings at Amazon.com and on iTunes, and other places I am sure.<br />
<br />
After the Voice she started a Kickstarter project (a crowd-sourcing-funding website) to record and produce her first solo album. You can see more about the project on her <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/katrobichaud/kat-robichauds-debut-album"><i>Kickstarter page</i></a>. And yes, I confess, I am one of the 880 people.<br />
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One of the promises she made as part of the funding program was if her second stretch goal was achieved, she would be having a concert in Raleigh, NC on Saturday May 31st. So was borne <b><i><a href="http://www.facebook.com/events/420424708094402/?ref=22">An Evening with Kat Robichaud</a></i></b>. Included in the show will be all of the songs from her new album, which she has just finished recording. Much more about the album and concert is here on her <a href="http://katrobichaud.com/"><i>Facebook page</i></a>. Tickets are like $10 and $12 - cheap at twice the price.<br />
<br />
Obviously being in Las Vegas I am not going to be able to attend a Saturday night concert in Raleigh, NC but would suggest that you do, I think it is going to be really awesome. It will include a couple other performers/bands, a costume party with awards for best costumes and a number of vaudevillian acts, both on stage and roaming the floor. The entire concert/show will be streamed live on Youtube, so if you are going to be there, let me know. Maybe I will see you on Youtube.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="350" mozallowfullscreen="" msallowfullscreen="" oallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed_widget/ab3u78e5rpht/s/28ir4fti9v47i9q04d30?view=list&sort=name&direction=ASC&theme=grey" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Unfortunately, I can't make the lovely little Box play bars anymore)</span><br />
<br />
That is one of her more mellow love songs, but you can find more of her music, more raucous rock on her <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=kat+robichaud+the+design">Youtube channel</a>.</i><br />
<br />
So, if you are anywhere on the east coast, or even NY or FL, head on over and have a great weekend in Raleigh NC which I understand is a beautiful place and a great place to spend a weekend if you are going to a Saturday night concert. And if you aren't in the east coast somewhere but are flexible and mobile, go ahead and go anyway.<br />
<br />
And if you are inflexible like me and can't make it, but find the whole idea interesting, join me on Youtube that Saturday night, May 31st!!<br />
<br /></div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-82135089490728075832014-04-14T10:15:00.001-07:002014-04-14T10:15:37.990-07:00Post No Bills<div align="justify">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YOjiXqg3i2w/U0htlwm90QI/AAAAAAAAC20/DgNhU_vbjaY/s1600/PostNoBills.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YOjiXqg3i2w/U0htlwm90QI/AAAAAAAAC20/DgNhU_vbjaY/s320/PostNoBills.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I am sure we all get the spammers who attempt to attach a comment to your blog post that has some nearly nonsensical verbiage that has nothing to do with your post and then encourages the reader to check out their website. Like this:<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Timeless in a Window's Light":</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Hi, all the time i used to check web site posts here early in the break of day, for the reason<br /> that i enjoy to learn more and more.<br />Also visit my site ... <u><span style="color: purple;"><i>get more views </i></span></u></blockquote>
<br />
This is the digital blog equivalent of the kinds of actions that resulted in the Post No Bills signs being plastered all over billboards and other signs "back in the day".<br />
<br />
Well, it occurred to me that since I am not writing anything of substance these days, that I could at least use this space, and the kindness of my readership to "post bills" about some projects that friends of mine are involved in. Things that I think are interesting and worthwhile, and perhaps entice you, the reader, to look into it and give it some consideration, perhaps even enough to become an active participant.<br />
<br />
More to follow...</div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-40427426318898040292013-12-06T00:01:00.000-08:002014-04-06T19:15:30.324-07:00Six Years<div align="justify">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hgz0xRWNJP8Olq7ru3JD8SlTk8TfSyltBrklMz2bzzeJWlvGCQVaRLBC5vQy0D4JiBJHAUNtYolgtyfWM56-AavKTIB0dHHLeCCUQnmhH4H-EB_vjNcnVPjRfEm2qHEx_0704xovBU8W/s1600/Six-Digits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hgz0xRWNJP8Olq7ru3JD8SlTk8TfSyltBrklMz2bzzeJWlvGCQVaRLBC5vQy0D4JiBJHAUNtYolgtyfWM56-AavKTIB0dHHLeCCUQnmhH4H-EB_vjNcnVPjRfEm2qHEx_0704xovBU8W/s1600/Six-Digits.jpg" /></a></div>
Five fingers, and a thumb? Maybe this explains why I haven't been writing/typing? Well, probably not.<br />
<br />
Six years of blogging. Well, 5 years of blogging and then the last year of owning the blog but barely using the blog. I am surprised, and pleased, to see that people are still visiting the blog even though I have contributed little to it over this past year.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am certainly not done with Frederick and Agnes although I have left them alone for over a year and I wonder what has developed between the two of them. We will have to watch and see.<br />
<br />
The whole landscape of Dominance and submission and BDSM seems changed over the past six year. So much more prevalent and accepted these days, more outlets for opinions and perspectives; things like FetLife, Shades of Gray, and a gazillion blogs, so much more "out there" than it was six years ago. I am not sure if that is better or worse?<br />
<br />
And there has been a nearly complete turn over of the blogs I discovered and followed 3 and 5 and 6 years ago. I know many people say, 5 years is a good run for a blog. Perhaps I have run my course? Who knows, I certainly hope not.</div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-27448674447625853662013-09-20T00:01:00.000-07:002013-09-23T14:40:06.521-07:00Knock Knock - Flash Fiction Friday<div align="justify">Knocking several times and not getting any response, she leaned in close to the door and said,“Sir? Hello?” and still there was no response.<br />
<br />
Against her better judgment, and her training, she balled up her fist and pounded on the door three times. Still there was no response, so she leaned in close again. Aiming her voice at the crack between the door jamb and door, and in a much louder voice, she said, “Sir? Are you there? Please answer!” She was alarmed how loudly her voice echoed in the courtyard and looked around embarrassed.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWckC5anztZBOwdK7jhoQzZ9a3RvFm-EPkEGPWb_Was_lGzkQm2V_ZniHoBNsPdv-pt1crefYbC3DaSm7kr-zyQDNbcR8uhf6dX9ITgOLJxs3UPMNcXTRuRjRwPsttJx8J3HYVwYN5d2M/s1600/tumblr_m97ab6cOa71ru37cgo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWckC5anztZBOwdK7jhoQzZ9a3RvFm-EPkEGPWb_Was_lGzkQm2V_ZniHoBNsPdv-pt1crefYbC3DaSm7kr-zyQDNbcR8uhf6dX9ITgOLJxs3UPMNcXTRuRjRwPsttJx8J3HYVwYN5d2M/s320/tumblr_m97ab6cOa71ru37cgo1_500.jpg" width="252" /></a>Leaning her ear against the door she listened for any sound inside the house. Finally she heard the sound of footsteps inside and spoke again, “Sir? Are you there?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, I’m here, who is this?”<br />
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“It’s me Sir, Sally. I’ve come to get my forgotten shoes.”<br />
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Now she could hear his voice right at the door, but there was no sound of him unlatching or attempting to unlock and open the door.<br />
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“Sir, can you please open the door?”<br />
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“Hang on, I’ll go and get your shoes for you.”<br />
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“Sir, may I please come in, it’s not just my shoes that I’ve left behind.”<br />
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<hr t="t" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Word Max = 200, Word Min = 200, Bonus Words - None, Key Phrase - None - - Just tell a story</i></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/p/flash-fiction-friday.html" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz05dssx1lcQFq-_d2ZrJGTsZF8L6molwLRe-1eWJqu1e91xVisUCCUzFyzYnghrnyo06OW0MeLP1F65Dub0t7NUsDtZmEkZHLSxBtD2T_bVQ0E6GuZsnAGWecNSCvhThGyKwPk4tIp2G5/s1600/fff2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/p/flash-fiction-friday.html">Click here for FFF Details</a></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-56661977797254171752013-09-11T13:57:00.000-07:002013-09-12T13:58:56.489-07:00<div align="justify">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1FiS5jgGeOXZV7VM8sZde1ypJ5NGkhLSnbUpxgjf4VkUg5DjYys9rMRYf-GlWnRXBFNtnH4eWoCA4KETnvqG_UtfhYJBsy2doVHbAwD_cMEfjkzgCM4n6goh20n-gq2cHUaItcppQa0/s1600/ribbon-black_68.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1FiS5jgGeOXZV7VM8sZde1ypJ5NGkhLSnbUpxgjf4VkUg5DjYys9rMRYf-GlWnRXBFNtnH4eWoCA4KETnvqG_UtfhYJBsy2doVHbAwD_cMEfjkzgCM4n6goh20n-gq2cHUaItcppQa0/s1600/ribbon-black_68.png" /></a></div>
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Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-38939586087129401872013-05-11T09:27:00.000-07:002014-09-19T16:20:17.220-07:00The Incredible Power Of Concentration - Miyoko ShidaWorth the time to watch. <i>Amazing!!</i><br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/K6rX1AEi57c" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-92130796242655031692013-02-08T14:23:00.000-08:002014-01-24T15:25:39.623-08:00Writing Exercise - Septolet<div align="justify">On a monthly basis, <a href="http://erotica-readers.blogspot.com/"><i>The Erotica Readers & Writers Association Blog</i></a> offers an exercise or challenge to provoke writers to try new forms of expression. I did one of these a while ago, <a href="http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/2012/06/captured.html"><i>back here</i></a>, and now have tried the current suggestion, the Septolet.<br />
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<br />
<b>Listening</b><br />
<br />
eyes closed <br />
lightly <br />
listening to her breathing<br />
<br />
sensing her effort <br />
straining <br />
against the bindings<br />
<br />
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<b>Feeling</b><br />
<br />
lying quietly <br />
on the couch<br />
her below<br />
<br />
arm dangling<br />
tracing her stomach<br />
muscles flexing<br />
<br />
<hr t="" />Go and visit their site, and learn about this alternative style and give it a try, <a href="http://erotica-readers.blogspot.com/2013/02/writing-exercise.html"><i>T<span id="goog_909318313"></span>he Erotic Readers and Writers Association - septolet</i></a><span id="goog_909318314"></span><br />
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If you decide to give it a try, please think to leave a link below in the comments so we might all enjoy it.</div><br />
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-84944074391762569742012-12-21T00:01:00.000-08:002012-12-21T00:01:01.762-08:00Father Christmas - Flash Fiction Friday<div align="justify">
I came in and found sweet slave Sally, wonderfully naked, decorating the Christmas tree. Her nakedness had an immediate effect on me.<br />
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“Oh, Sir, I am so glad you are here. These branches are too high for me to reach.”<br />
<br />
I went over behind her, pressed against her backside and leaned in to help place the ornaments.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But she smiled, saying, “Father is looking for you.”</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhefB59pwp4_RPVXzcNwKcELtD0sZ3Hrzxc7sdYbepnYyJe-IxWzA5GFU4C8EgiTqfy03oo8jAW1NKr4jdOpXxwk7cGfEpGGlnU5BTWkG_HEUUapQLMgs3a7sflhZgdYB3qeyZ2qJxGCx0/s1600/xmas1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhefB59pwp4_RPVXzcNwKcELtD0sZ3Hrzxc7sdYbepnYyJe-IxWzA5GFU4C8EgiTqfy03oo8jAW1NKr4jdOpXxwk7cGfEpGGlnU5BTWkG_HEUUapQLMgs3a7sflhZgdYB3qeyZ2qJxGCx0/s320/xmas1.jpg" height="320" width="252" /></a></div>
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* * * * </div>
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In the foyer I found sweet patient Patricia, tethered to the centerpost of the room, in clamps, a plaid skirt and heels.<br />
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Taking advantage of her, I leaned in kissing her under the mistletoe and slid my fingers up under her skirt. She moaned softly and squirmed from side to side. I leaned in, going for more.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But she smiled, saying, “Father is looking for you.”</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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* * * * </div>
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I reluctantly walked off toward the back of the house, calling out, “Father, where are you?”<br />
<br />
I heard his voice in the distance, “Stay!”<br />
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And then his voice boomed, “Sit up!”<br />
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I turned the corner and found a totally <i>unexpected</i> sight, a sweet new girl, collared and leashed, sitting up.<br />
<br />
“Ahh.” he said, “There you are.”<br />
<br />
“Just doing some final training with your Christmas present, Puppy.”<br />
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Woof! Woof!<br />
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<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Challenge, as issued by Advisor:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So many choices..... I've been thinking about a holiday post, something Christmas/Holiday oriented, because, believe me, there's not a lot of Hanukkah porn. I checked. I know that this time of year is busy for everyone but I hope you will find some time to write a naughty little something to keep our holiday spirit hard in our hearts. :-) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: red;">I decided to give you a gift of my own. You get to choose from three of my favorite Christmas Pictures, but, the prompt and word count are the same for all three!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Prompt Word = Unexpected </span></span></span><b style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">(Check)</b><br />
<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Word Count = 200 (same as my Christmas budget) </span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>(Spot on: 66 + 66 + 66 + 2 = 200)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Extra Credit = Use more than one picture...</span> </span></span><b style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">(Absolutely)</b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
<br />
Find out who else is playing along today, their links are at the bottom of the current post at <a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/"><i>Advisor's blog</i></a>.<br />
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<br />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-44547206156724342362012-12-14T00:01:00.000-08:002012-12-14T05:18:19.173-08:00Next - Flash Fiction Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvLvSrhu7kQrdieqWxAq0w9MC3BFr3dfzHGsRpyF0tgsHR9JX-rNLomDpTEzWD0JNV7IVdtTXeErZGPkrIVqBPdx7ESPQbgugH2wXjSS3_sGNDt0rRbX_uNe4qwT4t0JF6UpwMVUOFsA/s1600/tumblr_md6k13LVJg1rkfo52o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvLvSrhu7kQrdieqWxAq0w9MC3BFr3dfzHGsRpyF0tgsHR9JX-rNLomDpTEzWD0JNV7IVdtTXeErZGPkrIVqBPdx7ESPQbgugH2wXjSS3_sGNDt0rRbX_uNe4qwT4t0JF6UpwMVUOFsA/s320/tumblr_md6k13LVJg1rkfo52o1_400.jpg" width="204" /></a></div>
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Hearing their noise, I could not help but peek and stare into the room and watch the action. I knew I was to be next and wanted a bit of an inkling as to what would be happening.<br />
<br />
As he would thrust forward and back there was squealing from both the girl and the bed springs. With them both on their knees the old wire spring form bed frame was stressed and showing it’s age. Odd that my <i>discovery </i>of the bed frame and its structure and compliance would be so distracting. But knowing I would be next made me wonder if my stature would have a similar effect. The noise nearly overshadowed the sounds of both of their pleasures.<br />
<br />
With each thrust she would scream and grunt. She pushed back to keep from being driven forward to collapse, rocking back as he withdrew slightly, shifting his weight back over his knees.<br />
<br />
I reached down, touching myself, still so sore from the last time in the room down the hall. But here I was again, next, hearing the man explode and release and her loud reaction. I steeled myself for my turn; still so sore from where the strap-on had rubbed against me, I wondered if I could be as forceful with her as the man had been.</div>
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<i>For this week, <br />
The key word is, "Discovery"<br />
The world limit is 219<br />
Extra Credit for NOT using the word, symbol, or synonym for 3/three or any variation thereof (or in any language)<br />
Extra Extra Credit is given to anyone who suggests a FFF picture <a href="http://morebadadvice.tumblr.com/submit"><i>HERE</i></a>.</i>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-52605236177843866372012-12-07T00:01:00.000-08:002012-12-07T00:01:00.310-08:00Right Here - Flash Fiction Friday<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cE1m31xG-GDKxw6dAUIZnMLmeGlL0ia7WQLjjJjXGgUjvzNXtIOoxzDOZchz2Uvcq_krIhTP0aOpFvxnLsDCXGl6gQ8AfNErlCTrldOACvae6xtl6joEAzdgTcvkd3I1Ud_3I5mM3Kk/s1600/52o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cE1m31xG-GDKxw6dAUIZnMLmeGlL0ia7WQLjjJjXGgUjvzNXtIOoxzDOZchz2Uvcq_krIhTP0aOpFvxnLsDCXGl6gQ8AfNErlCTrldOACvae6xtl6joEAzdgTcvkd3I1Ud_3I5mM3Kk/s320/52o1_500.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>click to enlarge</i></td></tr>
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When I answered the door, I didn't think it would be a problem, I invited him in and said, “Let me go pull on a pair of shorts.”<br />
<br />
As I hurried down the hall I heard his footsteps behind me. I started to turn but he grabbed me by the back of the neck, pushing me forward. He said he was going to push me up against a wall and do dirty things to me. I said, “No, don’t!”<br />
<br />
He seemed uncertain what to do, but finally made his <i>decision</i> and pushed me face first against the wall. He pressed me hard against the wall, right here. Exactly, right here, my face, see? the oil from my skin, and sweat?<br />
<br />
I felt his hand slip down my back, his fingers between my cheeks, and, well, you know how much I love that. All I could say was, “Please. Don’t. Stop.”</div><br />
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<br />
This week's Flash Fiction Friday (FFF) challenge phrase (and this is the hard part): <b><i>Decision</i></b>. The word limit is <b>150 </b>or <b>300 </b>if you do the extra credit of writing both perspectives. (I will have to settle for the Extra Extra credit, but not the Extra).<br />
<br />
Reference back to <a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/2012/12/fff-challenge-dec-7th-prompt.html"><i>Advizor's blog</i></a> for the original challenge and other contributions. I hope many of you will one day (next week?) decide to join in the fun, would that be FFFF?Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-10726699054346303382012-12-06T00:01:00.000-08:002012-12-06T05:35:29.470-08:00Five Years<div align="justify"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDzKQt-HXbWCBaCQiNTOufMJajxI0cV7eooizzJFpvF9zDjxKVQUa1ciUJFVoqcc4xZ0LQ8gzZeisF18QXwkoSppck7rwjdQwtbdChHzw53ztGWZHzfOwX9BNxs7cnco-OZ5Y9aQERf0/s1600/k9156514+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDzKQt-HXbWCBaCQiNTOufMJajxI0cV7eooizzJFpvF9zDjxKVQUa1ciUJFVoqcc4xZ0LQ8gzZeisF18QXwkoSppck7rwjdQwtbdChHzw53ztGWZHzfOwX9BNxs7cnco-OZ5Y9aQERf0/s1600/k9156514+(1).jpg" /></a></div>Five years blogging, one half of a decade, seems like such a long time although in truth the time has flown by. It has been a quiet year for me blogging, somewhere about mid year I lost my fire and have not found my voice. Ideas percolate but never seem to issue forth or get mired in drafts.<br />
<br />
Part of it was the “demise” of Flash Fiction Friday (FFF) which helped keep me inspired, and it is coming back. In fact it has been around being kindly shepherded by a couple of good souls but I had lost my visibility to it. I will welcome it back as it was helpful in keeping my mind engaged. Previously there was a dedicated blog that housed/hosted FFF but that owner/host has been overwhelmed by circumstance. Hopefully it will find a permanent home again soon, a place where people can be directed to and get ensnared into the game. Tomorrow, 12/7, I will be posting another FFF offering, based on a picture I found that sparked my imagination.<br />
<br />
Another pending loss is <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/"><i>e[lust]</i></a>, which will go silent at the end of this month unless a new mistress(es) can be found. e[lust] was a resurrection of the idea behind Sugasm, a monthly collection of blog posts centered on erotica where bloggers submit their favorite pieces each month and some sort of evaluating is done and monthly top choices are made. Even if a piece is not selected, all of the stories submitted receive very wide distribution and I have found some of my favorite new authors or undiscovered writers through their inclusion in the e[lust] monthly offerings. It will be a greater loss than we realize even now.<br />
<br />
Neither of these, or other prodding were my impetus to write, but they were like snacks along the way. They were/are tasty little treats that sustained the energy level and kept the creative juices simmering. I still have every intention of continuing the story of <a href="http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/2010/11/frederick.html"><i>Frederick and Agnes</i></a>, and other little projects like <i><a href="http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/search/label/100%20Words">100 words</a></i>.<br />
<br />
So it is a much more subdued recognition of the annual marker this year but rest assured I am still here even if it is currently more as a blog reader rather than blog writer. I will accept that writers’ energies wax and wane and forge on.<br />
<br />
I am pleased to see from my statistics that there is a steady stream of friends/readers/visitors passing by each day, your interest and participation is greatly appreciated.<br />
<br />
</div><br />
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-3664668882955425442012-09-11T05:46:00.000-07:002012-09-11T05:46:00.513-07:00We Will Never Forget<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKyzrNdWsoAmyGji-k2XJBbx8ym7TcJm58oIDzQeBi1El75IfEGuHq9xtab50wNGuxPVlA3FNTp0Ag4HZ86IDh_GnGsqlcCiyoXZ5mLzfYnDC_-qHwCzLTvi_KvYHi81Vw2zuBO02Gj8w/s1600/ny-twin-lights.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKyzrNdWsoAmyGji-k2XJBbx8ym7TcJm58oIDzQeBi1El75IfEGuHq9xtab50wNGuxPVlA3FNTp0Ag4HZ86IDh_GnGsqlcCiyoXZ5mLzfYnDC_-qHwCzLTvi_KvYHi81Vw2zuBO02Gj8w/s400/ny-twin-lights.bmp" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDFPKU17oDPWbih1AYe9KF6jjBNGzh9x-ZawjEBtCQC0SeZFiGX0G6-oOE4BnNOSz6xAxTx8enBzlGcyYlKdmtX62zb0WiQ_Z6IhTox_FkC00YKXZPlA8Qw5qEzdiLORQ_15l81HmX8IR/s1600/Remember_9_11_X.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDFPKU17oDPWbih1AYe9KF6jjBNGzh9x-ZawjEBtCQC0SeZFiGX0G6-oOE4BnNOSz6xAxTx8enBzlGcyYlKdmtX62zb0WiQ_Z6IhTox_FkC00YKXZPlA8Qw5qEzdiLORQ_15l81HmX8IR/s200/Remember_9_11_X.JPG" width="195" /></a></div>
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Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-11288204592401328242012-09-03T07:40:00.000-07:002012-09-03T07:40:36.023-07:00Beginning<div align="justify">Holding her hands in mine, arms outstretched, I backed through the archway into the living room. She walked forward, following my progress toward the large overstuffed chair.<br />
<br />
I sat down in the chair and positioned her on the ottoman facing me; and placed her hands on her knees. She sat calmly, seemingly comfortable with her nakedness.<br />
<br />
I pulled her list from my shirt pocket and read it over. Then I read it out loud, watching her reactions.<br />
<br />
I handed her the list, “Read the two immediate goals out loud.”<br />
<br />
She did.<br />
<br />
“Okay, let’s begin. Tell me about the first goal.”<br />
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-73153163008878972582012-08-16T17:56:00.002-07:002012-10-18T19:50:28.892-07:00e[lust] edition # 39<div align="justify">
<strong>Welcome to<a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/" title="About"> e[lust]</a> </strong>- The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #40? Start with the newly updated <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/about-2/" target="_blank" title="About">rules</a>, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/feed/" target="_blank">RSS feed</a> for updates!<br />
<br />
<em>See many more of the great submissions, <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/2012/08/elust-39/">Read More . . .</a></em></div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-34823082886598231452012-08-15T13:08:00.000-07:002012-08-16T18:01:03.866-07:00Ready Now<div align="justify"><i>Came from <a href="http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/2012/04/noticing.html">here</a></i><br />
<br />
Noticing how calm and compliant she was, I continued to circle around her. I moved from in front of her, to behind her, stopping there, looking at the back of her head.<br />
<br />
Calm and quiet, I didn’t make a sound, she turned her head left, then right, looking for me. I traced fingers through her hair, her whole body shivered.<br />
<br />
I walked around in front of her again and lifted her chin with the tip of my finger and smiled at her. I put my hands out to her and she put hers in mine and I lifted her up.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-60962497355359677572012-07-30T09:20:00.000-07:002014-11-01T08:53:19.498-07:00When Frederick Met Camille<div align="justify">
Frederick got up from the desk and went to answer the knock at the door, surprised they hadn’t used the bell. Standing before him was a lovely young girl, dressed in something resembling a bell boy’s outfit including the stylized hat and white gloves. She offered him an envelope with great flourish. With an upturned, open palm she indicated that he should open it, and she stood silent and still. The whole routine made him grin.<br />
<br />
Before he turned his attention to the envelope he looked the girl up and down. The bell boy costume was very true to form except for one obvious unusual feature, the lack of buttons down the front of the shirt. The shirt was open at the neck, plunged down to a single studded closure at the navel and with the tails tucked into a pair of tailored low-rise trousers. A pair of suspenders bracketed her smallish, but ample breasts, pressing them together into a cleavage that amplified the open front of the shirt.<br />
<br />
He stood and stared at the girl’s chest, her navel and the snug fit of her trousers, largely ignoring the envelope until a second gesture reminded him to open it.<br />
<br />
Finally, Frederick broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out its contents, a card which read:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><u>Personal Invitation</u></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>You are invited to spend the evening as the guest of Patrick</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A limousine will arrive to pick you up at 7:00 PM</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Transportation will be provided to and from the event</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Dress is formal casual and all your needs will be attended to for the evening</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>R.S.V.P. to the delivery boy</i></div>
<br />
<br />
Laughing out loud, he said to himself, Patrick, you sneaky bastard. This explained Patrick’s dinner invitation for this very evening issued a couple weeks ago, an obvious ploy to lock in his calendar.<br />
<br />
He looked back up at the girl, still standing stark still in front of him, again noticing her breasts, but this time also the stylized page boy haircut, very bright red lipstick and dramatic eyebrow makeup. She was an attractive girl, probably in her late 20s and she obviously seemed to be enjoying playing this role, if it was a role she was playing.<br />
<br />
After giving the girl another once over, he returned his attention to her face and invited her in, but she waved off the invitation with a dismissive gesture. She tilted her head with a quizzical look, begging his response.<br />
<br />
“Please tell Patrick I am happy and excited to accept his invitation and will be glad to attend the event.” <br />
<br />
At that the girl tipped her hat, smiled, and turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving him to stand and watch her trim little body flow off down the hall. It was his first opportunity to notice just how nicely the trousers had been tailored all around. She turned right and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine and a not so faint, lovely memory.<br />
<br />
He walked to the end of the hallway and stepped through the French doors into the bright morning sun and onto the little balcony. Looking down he saw a shiny black limousine with a driver holding the back door open. Just then the girl came out of the building and stepped into the back seat. The driver closed the door and walked around to his side of the car. Looking in through the sunroof he could see the girl removing her hat and shaking out her hair as they drove off.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * *</div>
<br />
Walking back into the apartment he read over the invitation again, turned it over, looked into the envelope and realized it didn’t offer any explanation of the nature of the evening ahead. <i>“All your needs will be attended to”</i>, was very broad, and seemingly all inclusive. And the dress code; dress formal casual, what was formal casual, black silk pajamas? He sat down in his easy chair and pondered his knowledge of Patrick and tried to imagine exactly what he had in mind for the evening ahead. He leaned his head back and soon dozed off.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * </div>
<br />
After awakening from his late morning nap, he went about his routines, doing some business online and reading/responding to various emails. <br />
<br />
At 5 o’clock he got up from his desk and went about showering and shaving and dressing for the evening. He decided on a pair of relaxed slacks, a button up collarless shirt and a pair of sandals. It was going to be a warm evening and he wanted as much comfort as his wardrobe could afford him.<br />
<br />
Just as the sun was setting the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, 7 o’clock on the button. Opening the door he found a nice looking gentleman in a black suit, white shirt with an open collar and a black beret, the chauffeur.<br />
<br />
“Frederick, yes? Your ride is here, are you ready?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, I am, thank you. Just let me get my things and I will be right down.”<br />
<br />
“Very good Sir, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”<br />
<br />
Frederick turned back into the apartment to make sure everything was turned off, put his keys and coins and billfold into his pockets and grabbed his shoulder bag. One last look around and he walked out the door and headed down the stairwell. At the front door the limo driver stood holding the back passenger door for him. He climbed in, the door was closed and he settled back, enjoying the nice cool air blowing through the vents.<br />
<br />
The driver got into the car and leaning around over the seat back, through the partition to say, “I have one stop to make along the way and then I will get you to Patrick’s club straight away.”<br />
<br />
“Very good, thank you.”<br />
<br />
As the heavily smoked partition was closed he found himself in a nearly dark backseat, which was very comfortable and offered legs-straight-out leg room, a luxury he really appreciated. Looking around he saw a sound system control panel and what looked like a small liquor cabinet beside a mini refrigerator. These were flanked by cushions for fold down rear facing jump seats which would consume a good bit of the spacious leg room, but in their folded upright position were completely out of the way.<br />
<br />
He was so engrossed in surveying the surrounds he had not paid any attention to where the driver was taking him and was startled when the car pulled over out of traffic and settled into a parking space on the wrong side of the street in front of a dress shop. Looking up through the sunroof he could see that the building was three stories tall; there was the street level business and two floors of what appeared to be residences above it. The driver got out and went through a doorway at the side of the storefront, probably a stairway up to the second and third floors.<br />
<br />
He continued to explore the fitments in the back of the limo, changing the sound system from the FM radio to the CD function and the system clicked into some very nice soft jazz. He decided he would let the CD continue to play. It was not an artist that he knew, but he very much liked the music.<br />
<br />
Suddenly the opposite back door of the limo was opening and someone was climbing into the back of the limo with him as the driver closed the door. It was the bellboy girl who had delivered the invitation to him earlier in the day, still dressed in the same silly costume. He turned sideways in his seat and just looked at her as she sat looking at him.<br />
<br />
“Hello, I guess I’m giving you a ride to work at Patrick’s?” He wondered if she would speak this time or continue to be mute as she had been at their morning meeting.<br />
<br />
“Hello. Well, not exactly. I’m going with you to Patrick’s, yes, but not to work. I’m your blind date for the evening.”<br />
<br />
Frederick sat there astonished. What had Patrick arranged for him? Who was this girl? What was going on? He suddenly realized that he was staring at her with his mouth half open in amazement. He mentally shook himself. He tapped on the partition and told the driver to remain here for the time being while he straightened this out.<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry young lady, but I’m really not interested in some hired escort for the evening. I don’t know what Patrick has promised you or what arrangements he might have made, but I don’t think this is something that is going to work out.”<br />
<br />
She smiled and said, “There have been no arrangements made by Patrick, or anyone, for you in regard to me. I am here of my own free will and interest, and am not an escort of any kind or someone who can be arranged for in such a manner.”<br />
<br />
“Really? Then can you tell me what this is all about?” he asked.<br />
<br />
“My name is Camille and I am one of the owners of this <a href="http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/2011/05/frederick-shopping.html"><i>dress shop</i></a><i>.</i>” she said, gesturing out the window to the storefront. <br />
<br />
“I’ve worked with Patrick on the arrangements for this evening, but as an accomplice, and have outfitted two girls for him with dresses and fittings for this evening. However, they have nothing to do with you, or me. That was business I had with Patrick. Being here with you and going to Patrick’s party with you is something I arranged for on my own. You might say I invited myself to his party. In fact, I invited you to his party as well.”<br />
<br />
“Then what is this evening all about, what is it that you and Patrick have cooked up? And how do I figure into this scheme?”<br />
<br />
“Patrick made arrangements for a few of his very special customers, a surprise party in the private part of his club; you know where I am talking about. When he was telling me about the evening and asking for my help, I asked why you were not included. He said he didn’t think you would enjoy such an arranged evening and so had not included you.”<br />
<br />
“He was right; this kind of a party is not my cup of tea. You should have listened to his counsel.”<br />
<br />
“Sir, please hear me out. This is not about you being part of some special party at Patrick’s, but rather about me having found an opportunity to spend some time with you and get to know you. We met briefly at my 30th birthday party at Patrick’s a couple years ago; I found you very intriguing and appealing. Tonight’s party has simply afforded me the chance to invite you to be my guest for an evening. I want you to be my date; I want to be your date, for the evening.”<br />
<br />
He stared at her and thought about this. What an interesting and elaborate ruse she had concocted. He looked at her, she was a cute girl, he had noticed that even in the morning and decided he might enjoy this evening after all. And he had complete faith in Patrick and so would trust his involvement.<br />
<br />
“Well, if we are going to go through with this evening’s plans, whatever they might entail, we need to change your clothes. I don’t want to spend the evening with a girl whose outfit looks like a cross between an organ grinder and his chimp. I loved your costume this morning, but it is not appropriate for an evening out.”<br />
<br />
Frederick tapped on the partition again and told the driver they were going back up to the apartment for a few minutes and would be back down shortly.<br />
<br />
He reached across Camille’s lap and pushed the door open and followed her out. She unlocked the door to the stairway and he followed her up the stairs to the third floor. He had to admit that he really did love the way her trousers were tailored and would not have minded several more flights of stairs for the opportunity to enjoy the view of her cheeks swaying back and forth, so snugly contained.<br />
<br />
He continued to follow her up the stairs, down the hall and waited patiently while she opened her apartment door and let him in. He looked around and saw a very nicely appointed living room, sparingly furnished in a semi-modern style. The decor showed semblances of her profession, she clearly brought her fashion and dress shop work home with her.<br />
<br />
“Where is your closet?”<br />
<br />
She suddenly seemed quite shy, in contrast to the girl who had just told him how she had arranged this evening as a bold and forward way of getting to know him. Suddenly she was shy about him looking into her closet. Finally, she pointed to a hallway off of the living room and he could see a set of double doors on the left side of the hall.<br />
<br />
He stepped into the hall and in front of the doors, “Right here?”<br />
<br />
She nodded her head and he pulled the doors open and found a surprisingly large walk in closet, completely out of proportion to the size of the apartment. He walked in and could instantly see how the closet was arranged. Pants and slacks hanging over here, then jackets, then skirts, blouses next and finally dresses. He started browsing through the dresses as Camille came up beside him, looking very anxious. As he thumbed through, he would occasionally push a space open to view a particular dress and then move on. Toward the end of the section of dresses he came upon a dark blue halter dress secured to its hanger by braided ties. He spread open some space and gave it a more thorough examination. It was a very simple dress, almost skimpy in design with a hi-low hem style, considerably shorter in the front than in the back. It had a deep plunging back and nice peek-a-boo slit between the breasts. He glanced over at Camille and the plunging neckline of her shirt and could imagine how nicely the dress would cling to the shape of her breasts and show their roundness through the open slit.<br />
<br />
He pulled the dress down off the pole and held it up to Camille. She instinctively grabbed the material and spread it across her body to show how it would look on her. He nodded his approval and draped the dress across the back of the chair in the corner. He turned back to the closet and looked through the rest of the dresses, but couldn’t find anything else that would overrule his first choice.<br />
<br />
He turned and looked back at Camille and saw a strange look on her face, “What?”<br />
<br />
“No man has ever come into my home, taken over my closet and selected something for me to wear quite like this. Certainly men have suggested what they would like to see me in, but never has anyone taken over a clothing selection so thoroughly. I am not sure what to think about it, I find it very appealing, it is a very sexy thing to do to a girl. Do you know that?”<br />
<br />
He broke out in a broad smile and said, “Yes, I do. Perhaps it is part of what makes me, how did you say it, “intriguing and appealing”? If you had not liked it, it probably would have signaled a very short evening.”<br />
<br />
He stepped over in front of her and pulled the suspenders and shirt down off her shoulders. Without waiting for a reaction he stepped past her, gave her a firm but playful backhanded swat on the bottom and walked into the living room, “Hurry up now and get changed.”<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * </div>
<br />
Frederick went and sat down on the couch and waited for her, casually looking around at the room’s furnishings. It was a very comfortable room. He sat back and relaxed.<br />
<br />
When she came out, she stopped in the middle of the room, turned around slowly and said, “What do you think? Is it what you expected?”<br />
<br />
He was very impressed, the dress clung to her features exactly as it was designed, it cupped her pert breasts, flowed down off her hips, and the dipped back came right down to the dimples in the small of her back, just above her buttocks. He raised his eyebrows and said enthusiastically, “It’s lovely and looks exactly how I had hoped it would on you, wonderful. And I really like the shoes.”<br />
<br />
She had added a pair of fairly high heels that really accented her legs, but he noticed something wrong and told her to come closer. She came up and stood right in front of him, “Yes?”<br />
<br />
He reached out and put his hand on the outside of her calf and paused to judge her reaction. Finding none, he slowly slid his hand up her calf, past her knee and on up the outside of her thigh until he felt the top of the thigh-hi stockings she was wearing. He hooked his thumb into the elastic around their top, looked up into her eyes and made a clucking sound, “These will have to go.”<br />
<br />
She registered no surprise, just acceptance. He moved his hand further up her thigh until his hand was on her bare hip. He shook his head back and forth, “No, no, this isn’t right. Sit down here and remove those stocking.”<br />
<br />
He got up and gave her a hand sitting down onto the couch then walked off into the hallway out of sight. When he returned Camille was sitting with her legs half tucked under the couch, stockings folded neatly, sitting on the coffee table. He walked up to her and said, “Here, put these on.” <br />
<br />
It was a small pair of black mesh bikini panties.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * *</div>
<br />
Once they were back out in the limo and heading towards Patrick's place Camille fell silent again and he took to alternately looking out the window and looking her over head to toe, becoming more and more intrigued with her audacity at setting up such an arrangement. It was not often that he was so actively pursued by someone, preferring to be the aggressor himself, and usually beating them to the punch.<br />
<br />
When the limo pulled up to the VIP entrance at the side of Patrick’s club Camille started to get out of the car, but he gestured toward her to stay and said, “I need to speak to Patrick for a minute and then I’ll be back for you.”<br />
<br />
Camille nodded and settled back down in her seat as he got out and walked through the entrance into the club.<br />
<br />
Patrick stepped forward and greeted his friend with a hug, “So good to see you Frederick. I’m very pleased you accepted my invitation and decided to join us for the evening. I promise, you will have a wonderful time.”<br />
<br />
Looking around past Frederick’s shoulder Patrick seemed confused, he said, “You are always so punctual, you're actually a little early, things won’t be starting for a while now. But where is Camille?”<br />
<br />
“She’s out in the car waiting for me. I’m looking forward to the show tonight, but I have a couple things to do first. I assume you won’t mind me using the limo and driver for a while longer?”<br />
<br />
“Not at all, just don’t be too long, I wouldn’t want you to miss anything. How long will it be before you are back?”<br />
<br />
“Probably not much more than an hour, maybe a bit longer.”<br />
<br />
“Hopefully not, we should just be getting underway in an hour or so. What do you need to do first?”<br />
<br />
He smiled at Patrick, shook his hand and clapped his shoulder with his free hand, “See you in a while Patrick,” and turned and walked back out.<br />
<br />
After exiting the club he walked around to the driver and tapped on the window. The driver lowered the window, “Patrick has extended me the use of you and your car for a couple of errands I need to run before the party tonight. I hope you will be able to accommodate me?”<br />
<br />
“Most certainly Sir. I was hired for the evening and would just be waiting around for several hours to drive you home at the end of the night. I’ll be happy to have something to do.”<br />
<br />
“Very good, thank you.” At that he gave him instructions on where to drive to and went around and got back into his seat.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * *</div>
<br />
Frederick slid his hand across the back of the seat as he got into the car, letting it come to rest on Camille’s shoulder and then neck, and said, “Patrick says hello and he hopes you’re having a nice evening; that everything is going as you’d planned.” <br />
<br />
Rather than pulling away from his hand she leaned in his direction, smiled and said, “So far so good, wouldn’t you say?”<br />
<br />
He just smiled in response and lifted the big armrest divider up and back into the cushion so there was nothing between them. At that, Camille moved over across the seat a bit more so that his hand was now on her opposite shoulder and she leaned in against him slightly. He responded by tightening his grip around her and they both settled back and fell silent and both seemed absorbed in listening to the music. <br />
<br />
After they had been driving for a few minutes she asked, “Where are we going? Aren't we going to go to Patrick’s party?”<br />
<br />
“We’ll be going back to the party after a while, but nothing will be starting for an hour or two, and rather than hang around all those people I thought we might enjoy the quiet night or maybe going for swim.”<br />
<br />
Camille gave him look of surprise, “A swim? Where on earth would we go swimming?”<br />
<br />
He looked down at her with a conspiratorial smile and said, “I’m a member of a private club that has a very nice facility that just happens to include a full sized swimming pool.”<br />
<br />
She looked up at him and smiled, and moved closer, raising her head and offered him a kiss, which he willingly accepted and prolonged. He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arm around her tighter and turned in his seat to more fully engage with her. When they broke the kiss they were both looking into each other eyes, smiling, even grinning. He moved his hand up to the back of her head and slipped his fingers into her hair, taking a tight grip of a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. He leaned in and kissed her again, more aggressively than before and worked his mouth over hers, parting her lips with the tip of his tongue.<br />
<br />
She let out a little moan at the tug on her hair and fell back, not offering any resistance to his pull, her lips parted slightly. He could feel her jaw relaxing as her mouth opened more. He rotated his body toward her and deepened the kiss which she returned with equal ferocity, her mouth now fully open and accepting his tongue as it probed and explored the insides of her mouth, her own tongue, her teeth and even the roof of her mouth.<br />
<br />
Still gripping the back of her head by her hair he reached over and tucked his hand under her arm and pulled her over toward him. She rotated with the pull, but rather than ending up laying against him she moved so she was astride his left thigh, hands against his torso. He had to lean down even further to continue the kiss since she was nearly out of reach. As he tried to pull her up closer she put her hands on his chest and pushed off, breaking the kiss.<br />
<br />
He let go of the kiss and his grip on her hair and took hold of her upper arms with each hand as she slid back even further, rocking herself in a grinding movement against the muscles of his upper thigh. His grip on her arms helped balance her on his leg. He smiled at her as he saw her eyes begin to glaze over, recognizing the pleasure she was bringing to herself. He could feel the damp heat in his leg as she rode up and back, making low gasping noises and he flexed the muscles on his leg to provide an even firmer surface for her.<br />
<br />
As he held her arms, looking into her eyes, she looking back at him, he could feel her arms becoming tense. Her leg muscles grew tense as her whole body stiffened and she threw her head back and grunted out, panting and shaking all over. He held tight to her arms to help steady her until her spasms passed and she collapsed down against him, breathing heavily, gasping in short breaths. <br />
<br />
Slowly but surely she relaxed and began taking longer, slower breaths, still with her face buried in his chest. Camille looked up at him and shook her head as if to clear her mind. She gave him a sly smile then collapsed back down against his chest again.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * *</div>
<br />
As she laid there relaxing the limo came to a stop and the engine was shut off. Frederick heard the driver's door open, felt the car jostle, and then the door closed, then silence. He knew they had arrived at the club and the driver was excusing himself as they had discussed. <br />
<br />
He took Camille’s head in his hands and said, “We are at the club swimming pool and the driver has left us for a while. He will be enjoying himself in the lounge until I call him back. Would you like to go for a swim?”<br />
<br />
She shook her head, “No, not just yet.”<br />
<br />
She laid there against his chest, still astride his thigh resting against his knee, he felt her hand on the inside of his leg. She was slowly running her hand up and down the inside of his thigh, stopping every once in a while to lightly pinch or squeeze a handful of flesh. He could feel her breathing starting to change again and the heavier her breath the more time she spent with her hand rubbing and pressing his erection.<br />
<br />
Suddenly she moved, sliding down off of his thigh and landing on the floor of the back seat, between his feet and pulled herself up into a cross legged sitting position, and scooted herself up close to the seat between his thighs. She shifted around and pulled up on her dress so it rose and then bellowed down around and over her crossed ankles and legs. Once settled she put a hand on each of his thighs and rubbed them up and down, pushing further up each time until her hand were up around the waistband of his slacks. She curled her fingers inside the waistband and slid them to the center; she fumbled with buttons and zipper until she had them undone and was able to peel them open.<br />
<br />
He felt her hands working to undo the waistband and then the feel of the material being peeled down. Next he felt her hands rubbing him through his shorts, knowing she could feel his involuntary throbbing. He looked down at her and saw the concentration and determination in her face. He reached out and was barely able to tangle his fingers in the hair at the top of her head, but could tell she enjoyed the tease, her head swayed and she hummed a soft tune. <br />
<br />
Just then she reached up and roughly pulled down his shorts, so hard that he had to lift his hips off the seat to allow them to slide down off of his bottom. Once freed she took him in her hands and stroked slowly, stretching the skin, causing him to grow even harder as she worked him up and down. He let go of her hair and settled back, enjoying her handiwork. As she continued to work him with her hands his breathing got shorter and his hips moved up and back in rhythm with her stroking. <br />
<br />
His arousal built more and more until he was starting to throb, he involuntarily moaned his pleasure. He was sure she should be able to feel it in her hand but was not slowing down or changing her pace in any way. He was feeling his release building deep in his groin and wasn’t sure how much more attention he was going to be able to tolerate without exploding. She looked at him and gave him a big smile then lowered her head again.<br />
<br />
Suddenly she increased her pace and he knew he was moments away, sweating all over. All of his muscles tightened and his legs tried to push out straight. She leaned up onto her knees and forward toward him and pulled him down toward her and just as he could hold it no longer and burst out with his orgasm she placed her mouth over the head of his cock. She swallowed quickly, several times, until he stopped throbbing and began to relax, even though he did not soften yet. <br />
<br />
She settled back on the floor, but continued to hold and caress him. After a couple minutes he began to relax and soften. He reached down and lifted her head until their eyes met, and they both smiled. He settled back and continued to hold her head, tangling his fingers in her tousled hair.<br />
<br />
Camille moved up to the seat and sat close, cuddling up while he grappled with getting his slacks rearranged and buttoned and zipped up. After he had himself back together he pulled his phone and called the driver back.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * *</div>
<br />
When the limo dropped them off at the club they were greeted just inside the door by Patrick himself, “Well, where have you two been for the past couple hours?”<br />
<br />
“It is such a lovely night, we went to go for a swim. I hope we got back in time and didn’t miss much?”<br />
<br />
“No, in fact things are just getting started. Go ahead on in and make yourselves comfortable. Someone will be around to get your drink and food orders shortly.”<br />
<br />
“Thank you very much, we are looking forward to a very nice evening.”<br />
<br />
As they walked by Patrick noticed that neither of them had wet hair. But before he could ask again they had moved into the crowd, into the noise, and on into the night.</div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-28514319973967886332012-06-17T12:10:00.000-07:002012-10-18T19:46:54.485-07:00e[lust] edition # 37<div align="justify">
<strong>Welcome to<a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/" title="About"> <i>e[lust]</i></a> </strong>- The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #38? Start with the newly updated <i><a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/about-2/" target="_blank" title="About">rules</a>,</i> come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/feed/" target="_blank"><i>RSS feed</i></a> for updates!<br />
<br />
For a full list of all the excellent submittals - <a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/2012/06/elust-37/" title="FAQ’s"><i>read more…</i></a></div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-35331308478184217522012-06-08T10:33:00.000-07:002013-02-08T18:32:34.602-08:00Captured<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJo-yqoZcRqaeaJweASyPPc8HV3ZXBUJgKJAxYBagyYbqDP_PeaGiuUp6L-DMzZC0T7tg2yAvnHdg5xDJZP7mZUbpL_ucu-EahRceDnkIbIFKtKlLUQP7wo-PPUWLsn4pjQ8YHOH0Ht0Y/s1600/bound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJo-yqoZcRqaeaJweASyPPc8HV3ZXBUJgKJAxYBagyYbqDP_PeaGiuUp6L-DMzZC0T7tg2yAvnHdg5xDJZP7mZUbpL_ucu-EahRceDnkIbIFKtKlLUQP7wo-PPUWLsn4pjQ8YHOH0Ht0Y/s320/bound.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
captured</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
held immobile</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
kinked, inked, pinked</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
waiting for further attention</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
bound</div>
<br />
<br />
Inspiration from <a href="http://erotica-readers.blogspot.com/2012/06/writing-exercise-cinquain.html">Writing Exercise - Cinquain</a>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-71600935377380638172012-05-31T18:40:00.000-07:002012-11-12T19:04:52.490-08:00Equal but Different<div align="justify">
A current post by <a href="http://xpygarx.blogspot.co.uk/"><i>Pygar, A Kind Dom</i></a>, asks, “<a href="http://xpygarx.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/who-is-in-control.html"><i>Who is in control</i></a>?”, I responded:<br />
"Ultimately, they each have the power to end the exchange, but it is a power exchange. She exchanges her power for his control and having done so, as long as the relationship/exchange continues, the Dom is in control.<br />
If the sub withdraws, there no longer is a "who?"."<br />
<br />
Two related topics, again by Pygar and his correspondents, “<a href="http://xpygarx.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/submission-and-feminism.html"><i>submission and feminism</i></a>” and “<a href="http://xpygarx.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/submission-feminism-and-equality.html"><i>submission, feminism and equality</i></a>” also talk about who is in control but goes on to discuss the question of the value of the submissive in the power exchange relationship. The construct for women that is called <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminism">feminism</a> </i>is about a quest for equality, and the full and complete right to choose from all the available options. There is nothing about feminism that equates to dominance just as there is nothing in it that is tied to submission.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://beingaisha.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/bdsm-lite/"><i>Aisha</i></a><span id="goog_1560799806"></span><span id="goog_1560799807"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a> also spoke on this topic in response to the Newsweek article about <i>50 Shades of Grey</i> that suggests that the submission portrayed in that story is anti-feminist. She says:<br />
<br />
". . . they’re trying to figure out the connection between women being equal and being submissive at the same time without understanding BDSM at all."'<br />
<br />
and<br />
<br />
"But i think it increases the split, creates a greater dichotomy, between feminism and submission, when in fact, it is not even a split. Not a dichotomy at all."<br />
<br />
I think it is interesting that she titles her post, BDSM Lite because it reflects the common misconceptions. Until you have the real, personal, and visceral experience of Dominance/submission as Aisha says, you are almost sure to see the two positions in a hierarchical view where one is above the other, not a linear view, where they are truly side by side, <i>equal but different</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
Feminism is about having equal rights; what is done with those rights and that choice, it seems to me, is up to the individual. Some women may choose to take on a strong business challenge or be a dominant leader in her career, or to grab the reins of her relationship and lead her husband/man in the course of their connection and activities. Or, exercise that same free will and equal opportunity to choose letting go of her power in the context of a power exchange relationship where she knowingly relinquishes control and ceeds it over to her partner. Of course, she knows she can always take that power/control back, effectively ending the power exchange dynamic and perhaps consequently the relationship, or at least the currrent formulation of the relationship.<br />
<br />
But there is no hierarchy like:<br />
<br />
Dominant<br />
<br />
Feminist<br />
<br />
Submissive<br />
<br />
where if one is a feminist there is a better/higher position called Dominant and/or a lower/lesser one called Submissive. The feminist is a feminist, whether she chooses to be dominant or submissive or neither. Perhaps it is more like this:<br />
<br />
Dominant - Feminist - Submissive<br />
<br />
where she can choose either on a linear scale with no hierarchy involved at all. One is no better than the other, except as it relates to her personal feelings, perspective and desires.<br />
<br />
There seems to be a popular sense, a misconception, that Dominant is superior to Submissive, higher, better? Admittedly in the context of a power exchange there may be that appearance. A feeling that the Top is above the bottom, qualitatively, not just physically, but I have always seen the dynamic as, again, "<i>equal but different</i>." I am not a better person because I am a Dominant nor do I see a/my submissive as a lesser person, nor would she view herself in that way. That “who is in control” discussion poses the exact question, who is in charge, who has control, who has the ultimate power. I would suggest that both parties have the power and control because without them being in the relationship 100% each, equally giving themselves to each other, there is not power exchange, no dynamic, and really no relationship.</div>
<br />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-50935626011089534312012-05-30T22:44:00.002-07:002012-06-05T17:40:44.627-07:00Ohh, Be One<div align="justify"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3ZtIo6BzGMNN6LFJKgOMz4ZKFm0MBgu0yqWi597GLcAaJDNA3EDMvRq8is9jvknQ_TbW-Q9eUMP6N_CR7-44Rwq2UTJFrKw6nfCYszb05kEZitiJpbAOgR1OftZNA9lm4ahBBx8QA1I/s1600/AnpDNnjCEAA8UmA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3ZtIo6BzGMNN6LFJKgOMz4ZKFm0MBgu0yqWi597GLcAaJDNA3EDMvRq8is9jvknQ_TbW-Q9eUMP6N_CR7-44Rwq2UTJFrKw6nfCYszb05kEZitiJpbAOgR1OftZNA9lm4ahBBx8QA1I/s320/AnpDNnjCEAA8UmA.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>These aren't the droids you're looking for.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Credit: <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/shinyredthings">@shinyredthings</a></span></div><br />
</div><br />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-7396058773637205002012-05-11T00:01:00.000-07:002012-05-11T10:20:05.075-07:00Chiquita - Flash Fiction Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZIGQyDc2WJAAmjJpLYc3698n6btZlUAGi7Nmq1dGn75lZ2sh89cz_j-Q4ukRbxNT17nKiJ0OZlPfgryUbca_hwvNfQAOzTXy2w_LNqvLGy5TKQ7ghHmVUmxdPvVs4a3rrzmoCTb2Z8Q/s1600/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZIGQyDc2WJAAmjJpLYc3698n6btZlUAGi7Nmq1dGn75lZ2sh89cz_j-Q4ukRbxNT17nKiJ0OZlPfgryUbca_hwvNfQAOzTXy2w_LNqvLGy5TKQ7ghHmVUmxdPvVs4a3rrzmoCTb2Z8Q/s200/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" width="162" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>click as she gets closer</i></span></div>
<div align="justify">
I'd started snapping pictures from about 50 meters away. She was gorgeous, her bouncing breasts becoming more prominent, the closer she came. I could just barely hear her unintelligible song that was causing men's heads to swivel. <br />
<br />
She playfully twirled her fingers through her hair with more than <i>a hint of mischief</i> as her other hand popped the buttons of her denim shorts. Now, just three meters away, in that singsong voice I hadn't understood, I heard her singing, “Gatito? gatito?” <br />
<br />
Then, looking directly into my eyes she said, “Hey, chico, you wanna snap my kitty?”<br />
<br />
<hr />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Your challenge, use the picture above to write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission: "...a hint of mischief..."</span></i></div>
<i><br />
</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: <span style="background-color: #efefef; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;">(Source image unknown, provided a long time ago by the lovely <a href="http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/" style="color: #336699;">Lexi</a>)</span></span></i></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-32826707002106666972012-04-23T22:22:00.000-07:002012-11-12T19:18:16.470-08:00Starting<div align="justify">
On so many occasions she had walked by my shop, and I’d smile, and say, “Hey. Hello.”<br />
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She would half-smile and keep walking, sometimes looking back, sneaking a peek.<br />
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And now, here she was, sitting on the edge of my desk, looking shy, nervous. What was she doing here? Sitting in her little plaid schoolgirl skirt with charcoal gray knee socks, her tender thighs open slightly, offering a tempting space.<br />
<br />
I put my hand on the inside of her left knee and she jumped a little. But as I moved my hand up her inner thigh, she opened even further.</div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6931377820241721982.post-63416058206904227822012-04-06T13:07:00.000-07:002012-04-06T13:07:02.878-07:00Noticing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26d-SPKpduEDU_mYLeqBsVsCgj0pgxY7-NRNtntS6TTcCGpHwfsg7s5h0xHLsPCbG1YgX6Qdg9BpV8Q1erH5wo3w1GTcjSFht_JBDAF8AQ_yutyPIhpD-ug1OkPNUtoD4xFFY-HpCEX8/s1600/sub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26d-SPKpduEDU_mYLeqBsVsCgj0pgxY7-NRNtntS6TTcCGpHwfsg7s5h0xHLsPCbG1YgX6Qdg9BpV8Q1erH5wo3w1GTcjSFht_JBDAF8AQ_yutyPIhpD-ug1OkPNUtoD4xFFY-HpCEX8/s200/sub.jpg" width="153" /></a><span id="internal-source-marker_0.633800612995401" style="font-size: 15px; text-align: -webkit-auto; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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"Yes." she said.<br />
<br />
I let go of her chin, resumed circling around her, examining; bothering her attention, noticing. I noted the smooth soles of her feet, her high arches. <br />
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I grabbed a handful of hair, holding her head back, noticing her face. She stared up, half smiling, three quarters fearful. I let go her hair and her head flopped back down.<br />
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I moved around to her side, noticing the curves of her uplifted breasts, perky nipples.<br />
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Circling further, I noticed how her thighs were parted, opened, glimpsing the glistening darkness of her pubes, full and fluffy.<br />
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Was she <i>really </i>ready?</div>
<br />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04943867226010869367noreply@blogger.com3