The Text

It was 9:30 in the evening when the cell phone started vibrating on the desk next to her. Propping her glasses on top of her head she leaned back in her chair and picked it up. The number was unfamiliar and the message read, "Meet me at the Venetian, rm 1023 at 11:30".

Quickly she sent back, "You must have sent this to the wrong number" readjusted her glasses and went back to work.  No more then a minute passed when the phone vibrated again, "No, right number. Stop working and get in the shower." She stared at the message completely baffled.

Now her curiosity was peeked, "Who is this?" she sent then waited, staring at the phone.

"The ONLY way to find out is to be at the room in 2 hours." the return message read.

She waited a moment before sending, "Who is this?" again.

"This is the last message, the ONLY way to find out is to be at the room in 1 hour 57 minutes now." the return message read.

She felt the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she contemplated the whole situation. She had a feeling who ever was sending the messages meant what they said about not answering but she couldn't resist trying, "I'm not going drive to the hotel this late at night when I don't know who you are!", then waited.

She knew what they were thinking, "oh yes you will." though she never got that message.

100th Post plus pictures!

Read through to the bottom to find out the secret of this story.

You know the moments in life when you want to stop and witness something right in front of you over and over again? That's how he felt every time he looked at the pictures.

He swore to himself that the afternoon they spent together would never interfere with his life. His wife would never know, it was just this one time. 

He should have been happy with the fact he was with her. People dreamed about being this close to her. He had spent that afternoon wrapped up in her arms, legs and lips.

The moment they closed the door, their hands could not reach each other fast enough. The passion was intense, the moments passing way too quickly. Their time was limited but would not be wasted.

He had brought his camera at her request. She wanted him to have a reminder of the time they spent together.

Leaving her was harder then he had expected. Driving away from that hotel, he felt his heart was left behind. But he kept the pictures near.

Coming home from work a few days later, he found his wife upset. The floor littered with HER pictures.  He couldn't decide if he was more angry that he was caught, or the fact she was touching the pictures.

Looking up at him, tears streaming down her face, she leaned over to pick up one of the photos. Watching him, she slowly lit the fire, daring him to stop her.

In that moment he knew.

Today marks my 100th post. When I started this blog a few months ago it was just a passing hobby. Now I look forward to writing, sharing and reading each one of your blogs every day. I am always awed by the openness, honesty and caring that I find. I have laughed, worried and talked about many of you, even though I haven't met you!  Thank you for sharing this journey with me as I continue forward!

Each of the pictures within the pictures are of me. Just a small thank you for coming back as often as you do!

                                   

The Kiss

I'm thinking of you.

 The sound of your voice,
the weight of your body over mine.

I'm thinking of you, again.

Your hand moving through my hair,
tilting my head to meet your lips.

The Club

The tempo is swift and accelerating while the air hot with desire. Music moves through me in waves. People melting into each other as the lights played across the floor. My back against your chest, my hips grinding into yours. Arms wrapped behind my head around your neck, my body open for your hands. Completely immersed in you, the moment and I am lost.

TMI Tuesday!

1. Do you have "your" side of the bed? Which side?
Yes! Usually it is the side closest to the wall. I hate being near the door.

2. How old is your pillow and what condition is it in?
A year old and flat! Just like I like it. 

3. What is your favorite position to sleep in?
On my stomach, one arm under my pillow and head with the other pulled closed to my body.

4. How often do you change your sheets?
Once a week! Laundry day heheheh

5. What helps you fall asleep when insomnia strikes?
Usually I'll just daydream until I'm sleepy enough to fall asleep.

6. Does sex make you sleepy or energized?
Depends on the session and how tired I am. Though usually I'm energized.

7. What is the minimum amount of sleep that you need to be functional the next day.
To function? 3-4 hours. To be a happy healthy person, 8!


You know you want to play TMI Tuesdays!!

Strawberry Red, Part 3

Her lips were as full as the strawberries, tasting just as sweet. Sliding my tongue over the top, I felt her moan softly. Her fingers grasped my nipple, twisting it towards her. My hand snaked up her back, wrapping into her hair. Pulling her head back to lay her on the blanket, I gave her a sly smile.

"Let me help you out of those," I said pulling her shorts over her hips. She wasn't wearing anything beneath. I shivered at the thought that she had planned this. My hand rested on her mound, smooth to the touch. She laid perfectly still, waiting.

Moving my hands down to her thighs, I parted her legs. Then sat back to stare at the beauty in front of me, skin shining in the sunlight. Reaching into the basket I pulled out a strawberry, placed it between my lips and leaned over. I begin sliding the strawberry between her lips, pressing inwards until I hear her gasp. Leaving the strawberry where it rests, I move back to see the green leaves laid against her skin creating a lovely flower in the most appropriate spot.

"You do intend on eating that strawberry, right?" She asked with an evil grin.

"I intend on eating more then just the strawberry," I said as I lowered my head between her legs.

Work

You're busy, again. The keyboard clicks with a purpose as you sit head bent, concentrating. I'm not worried that you haven't noticed I walked into the room. It always starts this way when work beckons.

I stand near the window, my reflection shining in your monitor. You watch as I slowly start to remove my clothing. The shirt is pulled over my head, my body stretching as I toss it to the side. Bending at the waist I slide my short and panties over my full hips. Then moving my hands behind my back to undo my bra, letting it slip to the floor.

The keyboard clicking has long since stopped, your eyes burning a hole into the monitor.