Monday, April 24, 2006

Starry Night...


To be able to lie with you under a blanket of glittering stars, flesh against flesh--naked and soft and sated. Your hand in my hair, your fingers pressing gently against my scalp as my cheek rests against your chest, the beat of your heart like a whisper echoing softly in my ear.

For that, I would give more than you know
.

(Note: The image is Vincent Van Vogh's "Starry Night".)

Posted by SD at 8:24 AM 4 comments

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Sunrise, huh? Not what I woud've guessed.

I keep stealing these quizzes from Sasha because well, I love silly little quizzes like this and more importantly, I haven't written anything worth anything in a couple weeks. I'm having issues at the moment, but I'll post something original soon, I've already started, I just need to finish.

In the meantime...

You Are Sunrise


You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary.

You are a person of reflection and meditation.

You start and end every day by looking inward.

Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts.

All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

What Time Of Day Are You?

Posted by SD at 10:13 AM 6 comments

Friday, April 21, 2006

I love the stars...

...and because I do love them so and I love him, I gave my love his own star awhile back...







Which Tarot Card Are You?




You are the Star card. The Star is the light of hope. Shining in the night, sending light into darkness, the stars provide direction to sailors and are a field on which to dream. Humanity used to look up at the sky and desire to be there, to find out what it all meant, and now we have been a distance into space and have elementary ideas of the makeup of all the different stars. This kind of achievement adds further fuel to our hopes. The eternal, slow-moving stars that will be long shining past the end of our own existence provide hope of immortality, and the vast space they suggest and the very mystery they hold provide us with excitement and knowledge yet to be discovered. Image from: Danielle Sylvie Taylor http://members.limitless.org/~morpheum/gallery.html
Take this quiz!








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Posted by SD at 10:22 AM 2 comments

Monday, April 17, 2006

Tag, I'm it!

You know, I never really liked tag when I was a kid. Hmm, wonder why?

Anyhow,
Dane tagged me with this meme and because I love him ridiculously, I've decided to be a good girl and ignore the temptation to pretend like I didn't see it.

This meme was "originated" by SupaMum, and here are the rules: I ask a question and who I tag answers the question and then answers my question and thereby tagging other people and asking them a question. The question can be anything. And it can cause a thread conversation.

Dane's question: Who was the first celebrity/famous person that you ever had a fantasy (however innocent or dirty) about?

Jack Wagner--I had some rather lovely fantasies (some innocent, some dirty) about being Frisco's Felicia on General Hospital.

My Question: If you were given the opportunity to go back in time and completely change, slightly alter or otherwise delete one choice, decision or action you made that had a negative impact on the rest of your life, would you take it?

As for me, no, I wouldn't. Everything that's happened in my life--good, bad or otherwise--was meant to happen and to go back and change just one thing, no matter how small, would alter the course my life has taken and who's to say it'd be for the better? Nobody. It's a gamble and one I don't feel is worth the risk.

In regular SD fashion, no tags. If you want to answer the question in my comments or on your own blog, have at it and if you don't, that's cool too.

Posted by SD at 10:31 AM 5 comments

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Sweet Surrender.

As promised...

Another piece from the archives of my salacious mind, written for
Dane some time in my not so distant past. Enjoy.


My back is pressed firmly against the wall, and your body is pressed firmly against mine, trapping me. You lean down and lightly rub your lips against mine before gently nipping at my bottom lip, your teeth scraping over the soft flesh as you pull it into your mouth.

I can feel a thundering begin in my loins as the desire--a desire you’ve evoked in me--slowly seeps through my veins.

"God." I breathe against your lips.

You reach in between us and slowly pull at the tie of my robe, tugging until it falls open, exposing me. You run your hands up over my breasts and then back down over my stomach, sliding down to slip one hand between my legs, cupping me.

"Please..." I moan into your mouth.

"Please, what?" You ask, running your fingers between the warm, wet folds of my pussy.

Your lips leave my mouth, moving down, you begin to trace the line between my jaw and my neck with the tip of your tongue.

"God, I want..." I drop my head back against the door as your fingers continue to slide over my aching flesh.

"What? What do you want?" You press a finger into me and I bite down hard on my lip, "This?" You bring your thumb up to brush across my clit, "Or is it this?"

My body is on fire. Sensations overlap sensations. I need...

"Fuck, please..."

"What, baby? Tell me what you want."

You press another finger into me and begin to methodically thrust them in and out of me.

"Oh God, I can't..."

You crouch down, sliding your tongue over my skin and stop to circle my nipple with the very tip, "Tell me."

"No, I..."

You pull my nipple into your mouth, trapping it between your teeth and begin to ruthlessly flick it with your tongue.

"Yes. You. Can."

You release my nipple and drag your tongue down across my belly, stopping to dip it into my belly button.

"Baby..."

You pull your fingers out of me and bring your other hand up to help spread my lips.

"Tell me."

You lean forward and stroke my clit with your tongue. Softly. Slowly.

I grab your shoulders for support and clutch your shirt tightly in my fists as my hips buck forward and you pull my clit into your mouth.

"Fuck."

You suck hard on my clit, destroying me with your lips, with your teeth, with your tongue, "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck, baby. You... ."

You pull back slightly and swirl your tongue around my clit again, teasing me, and your fingers dip back down, finding me. You push them back into me and I begin to languorously rock my hips, riding your fingers.

Oh, how you slay me. Everything inside of me clutches, a white hot ball of need longing to unravel.

"Fuck, I need..."

You curve your fingers inside me, brushing them against my walls and I feel myself begin to unravel.

I slide down the wall, your fingers still inside me and you capture my lips, your tongue snaking in to tangle with mine. And God, I can taste myself in your mouth.

I reach for you, quickly pushing your pants down over your hips and grasp your cock in my hand, deftly stroking. Your fingers slip from me and I urge you to your feet, your cock still snug in my hand.

I push you back against the wall, inching forward on my knees and lean in, taking you into my mouth. Your hands slip into my hair and I take you in further. I moan because you feel so good in my mouth and the vibration against your cock has your hips pressing forward. My hand is still wrapped firmly around the base and I slide my mouth back up the length of your cock, stopping to twirl my tongue around the tip before moving back down to drag my tongue from tip to base. Your cock slides smoothly in and out of my mouth and I tighten my hand around the base of your shaft and begin to pump, my hand brushing against my lips with every stroke.

I lift my eyes to look at you and I see you watching me as I make love to you with my mouth. I lower my eyes and watch transfixed as your cock slides between my parted lips.

You gently tug on my hair and my eyes meet yours again. "Come here."

You begin to pull me up and I reluctantly release my grip on your cock. Our bodies rub together on the way up and it feels splendid. I slide my hands up under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head before dipping back down to drag the flat of my tongue across your nipple.

I feel your hands settle beneath my ass and I run my lips up your chest, settling into the crook of your neck as you lift me and turn to press my back against the wall. I feel the head of your cock press against my entrance and I wrap my legs around your waist, digging my feet into your back as I thrust my hips down trying to take you inside me.

"Please." I whisper against your neck and you press forward, burying yourself inside me.

You pull back and press forward, over and over again, your cock sliding in and out of me.

"God, you feel good."

And you do. God, you do.

Your thrusts quicken as you set a punishing rhythm and I'm powerless to do anything but hang on and enjoy the ride.

And I do, oh, I do.

That soft, sweet tug at the center of my core begins to spread, beckoning me and I shamelessly surrender to it. My muscles clamp down, gripping your cock tightly as I come and with a couple more thrusts you follow me down the path toward your own sweet surrender.

Posted by SD at 8:37 PM 3 comments

For Nina...

...because she misses me. And I miss her too.


And I'm sorry I've disappeared for a spell, but I've not been feeling myself. But that aside, I do intend to post something later tonight. Promise.

Posted by SD at 4:56 PM 3 comments

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Vulnerability...

...in my opinion, is a two sided coin.

On the one side, you've got people who have absolutely no concept how difficult it is to push past that wall of vulnerability your waning sense of self confidence has erected and put yourself out there, be it emotionally or physically, when it would be just as easy to hide behind that wall for fear of emotional injury, whether it be rejection or an off-handed comment that may or may not be innocently given, but is none the less hurtful. And on the other side, you've got those people who understand perfectly how very hard it is because they live their lives behind that wall and the mere thought of stepping out from behind it leaves their palms sweaty and their hearts racing. I typically fall into the latter of those two sides.

In my last post Freya commented that, "We can be our own worst critics, can't we?" And there are no truer words. I know that I am, without question, my own worst critic in everything I do, from writing all the way down to the image that stares back at me in the mirror.

The lovely Freya also said, "We have to love ourselves first, which is so difficult in a world where the idea is virtually unobtainable by all but the slimmest margin of woman." And she's absolutely right, as is the delectable Nina who said, "All of us are forced to be so self critical of our beautiful bodies because society has decided that a woman is not attractive unless she looks like some mans vision of the perfect female specimen."

With those odds, it's hard not to be our own worst critics and harder still to move past that wall of vulnerability we've erected, but yet there are those of us who occasionally throw caution to the wind and step out from behind that wall. And it's those who humble me because I understand the risks.

I don't kid myself into thinking that the things I write or the feelings I express here will touch or move everyone who passes through here on a daily basis, I imagine a good amount of people skim through my words and move onto the next blog or site without feeling anything at all, but when something I've written does touch someone to the point that they feel confident enough to step out from behind their own personal wall, it's an incredible feeling.

With that thought in mind, and her permission, of course, I'd like to share an e-mail I recieved from Amy of South Coast Pleasure yesterday...

SD,

Your vulnerability moved me. Your photograph touched me. I am not Gay or Lesbian. I am not a writer either. I feel that sensuality is neither male/female or straight/gay. It just is. So here I am returning to you a bit of my vulnerability.


Fingers. Fingers that gently lift the fabric of your gown to reveal the luscious area of desire.

Fingers. Fingers that gently press against the flatness of your tummy, the center, the beginning, oh, the softness of your skin.

Fingers. Fingers that point down, down, down urging, wanting, needing to touch more.

Fingers, my fingers reach, touch to explore, drawn by the power of your beautiful sexuality.

Fingers, my fingers flirt with the silky black material that separates my touch from the soft warm home of your womaness.

Fingers, fingers that find their way to the depths of your physical sensuality. Deep, inside, warm, wet, moving, throbbing, thrusting, orgasmic.

Fingers.

I found this incredibly beautiful. Not only that she'd share such a personal piece of herself with me, but because allowing some of my own vulnerability to slip through allowed her to share some of her own vulnerability with me as well, and now with you.

Thank you, Amy.

And though I've already told her this, I think it merits mentioning here--you don't have to be a writer to write, you just have to feel and as long as anything you write is written with feeling, there's beauty in it.

Last but certainly not least, I want to say thank you to everyone who left a comment on my last post.

OdalisqueK--I think you look fine too, sweetheart.

Nina--Size is no matter, I'll take a handful of your luscious flesh any day. And you know that I find you exquisite and oh so beautiful, don't you?

AAG--I think you're gorgeous too. Sincerely, I do.

Dane--I try not to care what others think of my physical self and with a good amount of people, I don't particularly, but because I love you, I do care what you think. Always. Thank you, darling.

Freya--As are you, gorgeous! And I'll echo your sentiment, I said so. So it must be true.

Jeff--That is such a beautiful quote you left in my comments and I thank you for adding it, my friend! And that lovely gift you gave Dane and I on your blog last night made me weepy (a good weepy). You are a prince and I adore you, you know?

Sasha--Yes, I do believe you have a point! And you're a sexy temptress yourself, sweetness, you truly are.

Posted by SD at 12:15 PM 6 comments

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Be gentle with me, it's my first time...

My ex-roommate (her and I no longer share living space but are still the best of friends) likes to taunt and tease me mercilessly because, as she puts it, I’m too insecure with my body to reveal or exhibit myself, which she thinks is silly because while I am a big girl, I’m not an unattractive one. I object to her taunts as I’ve posted a picture of my breasts twice, but as much as I object, in a very real way, she’s right. I admit it, I hate the way I look. And not liking the way you look breeds insecurity, it’s a vicious cycle, but one I’m fairly sure many women go through at various times in their life.

If I looked as she does...



There certainly wouldn’t be a problem. But sadly, the gods of shapeliness haven’t been that kind to me. Mores the pity, but what am I going to do?

Anyhow, since she vehemently insists that I’m too insecure to post a picture of myself that I feel would leave me vulnerable to negative criticism, I’m hellbent on proving her wrong (the bitch).

So because she said I wouldn’t do it--this is me, it’s only a small part of me, mind you, but it is the part of me that I’m most insecure about.



And I want to say that as a bigger than average woman, I know how hard it is to put yourself out there for fear of insults or worse rejection, but honestly, some of the most beautiful women I’ve met are women that, by most, would be considered overweight. Big can absolutely be beautiful, and I have the utmost respect for those women who know and embrace that. And even bigger respect for men who do.

Posted by SD at 8:16 PM 12 comments