tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57536163010082984402024-02-07T12:30:17.393-05:00rachel-xxrachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-80397722195864299302015-11-06T00:40:00.000-05:002015-11-06T00:40:19.057-05:00Harley Is A Cuddler<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harley, believe it or not, is a cuddler.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Years ago, after we had just slept together for the first
time, I remember telling him not to worry, that I wasn’t a cuddler and for him
not to feel that he needed to be one just for my benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley proceeded to pull me tight against
him, wrapping his massive arms around me, and laughing that he didn’t believe me
for one second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I protested that I
wasn’t just saying it, that I meant it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I was being serious; I really didn’t believe that I was a
cuddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much later, I realized that the
entire time I was telling Harley I was not a cuddler, I was making zero effort
to get away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was, in fact, burrowing
right into his python grip w a great big satisfied grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley ended the debate that evening saying
it didn’t matter whether I was a cuddler or not – he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few moments later, he added in a whisper it
was also great way to keep me naked and close for when he was ready to go
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believed him on both
levels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, I came to believe that
Harley THOUGHT he was pretending to be a cuddler . . . for my benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think Harley really believes he is not a
cuddler, that he holds onto me after we sleep together because he believes I
have some level of expectation afterwards . . . and it does have the added
benefit of keeping me naked and close for rounds two, three, four, and “oh my
God does he ever run down”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
Harley will never admit the real truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
real truth is that Harley is a cuddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I teased him a little bit about it after I recently spent the night
until he threatened to spank me (need I point out that I definitely did not
stop then).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If wouldn’t admit it from
that night – then he will never admit it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harley was asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sun was asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like
every fucking body was asleep . . . every fucking body but me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was wide awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley was snoring
peacefully next to me in the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally,
his snoring lulls me to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess
because Daddy was always a horrible snorer and he could rattle the walls w his
snoring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned, as I turned into big
girl, that the little girl in me slept better when the big man in the house was
snoring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Harley was doing his
part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not Daddy ‘rattle the walls’ loud,
but he had decent volume w good consistency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But it was not working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
snoring was not lulling me to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was pissing me off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was jealous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to be the one snoring peacefully; well,
maybe not snoring, but you get the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead, I was wide awake.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>I reached behind me and ran my hand gently along Harley’s
muscular leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was on his side spooning
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a cuddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped pretending a long time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I enjoy the feeling of Harley next to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran my hand a little lower between
us until I felt his soft length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
held him gently in my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were both
naked still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had taken me out to
dinner and then we had gone for a walk along the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a long drive back, but it had been an
awesome evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were both tired when
we finally got to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made love, but
then we crashed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my case, I crashed
hard, which was probably why I woke up after just a few hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I held his length in my hand, very gently
running my fingers along it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted
him inside me again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Awake, w everyone
else in the world asleep, it was hard not to think about the night we had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the perfect romantic evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that time of night, it would have been
easy to start re-hashing our history, wondering if the night meant anything to
him too, wondering if our relationship would ever lead to anything serious
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I did not want to dwell on
those things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had intentionally
starting running my hand along his body because I did not want to think about
anything serious right then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
wanted to be in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
wanted to enjoy the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
thinking about rolling him over for a change; letting him get a taste of being
woken up for more loving when I realized I was not hearing his snoring anymore.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt him hardening in my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does not matter how many times I feel him
grow hard, I still find it fascinating to feel it when it is happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley kissed the back of my neck sending
chill bumps all down my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He moved
his arm which had already been holding me close, now alternating his fingers
attention between my breasts and my sheath, all the time still nuzzling the
back of my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I moved my head down
slightly to give him better access.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He grew
firmer w his nibbling on my neck and w his hand roaming my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His dick grew firmer in my hand as well.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>Harley typically tends to take the lead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is not bossy or domineering about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being in control is just part of being who he
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he seemed to be restricting
himself to nibbling my neck and his hand roaming my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started thinking he was waiting to see how
I wanted to proceed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley was more
accustomed to waking me up, not the other way around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me waking him up was not unheard of, I have
tried to surprise him in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think that was why I could sense he was waiting to see what I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not really sure what I wanted though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not like I had put any thought into
what I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only thing I knew
was that I wanted him back inside of me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I turned around to have us facing each other on our
sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We kissed and I pushed his
shoulders down onto the bed giving the hint that I wanted him on his back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I climbed astride of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither of us spoke . . . not w words anyway
. . . our bodies were communicating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Harley likes his bedroom to be dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sitting back on my knees, my legs astride his waist, I could not make
out any of his features.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was simply a
dark shadow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have loved to have been able to make
out his face as I used my hand to guide his manhood to my entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slipped him in like I was made to order for
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stayed mostly upright, leaning
forward upon my semi-straightened arms, my hair flowing down my head and forming
a curtain around his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rocked my
hips up and down along his body, pressing my sensitive spot into him, the
pressure of him inside of me and of him against my trigger felt wonderful.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me on top is the best way for me to orgasm w him inside
of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body responded to the beauty
of our evening and the beauty of this moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I no time I could feel an orgasm building within me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I wanted something more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not just want to orgasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted him to make me orgasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am probably doing a horrible job explaining
what I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat back more on my
knees, not leaning over him any longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I ran my hands along his arms until I found his hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took his hands and placed them on my
hips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still holding his hands in mine
against my hips, I began to rock back and forth again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley understood immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gripped my hips and began to move me back
and forth against him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, this was
perfect, I thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept the pace
slow and steady for the longest while, the two of us simply enjoying our being
joined into one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He must have been able
to tell I was nearing my moment, because he increased the pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His hands gripped me all the more firmly as
he raced me back and forth, my trigger being firmly massaged by the pressure of
our bodies against each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I
began to cum, he did not release me nor did he stop forcing me up and down
along his body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept me riding him
hard through wave after wave of my orgasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was awesome!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When he stopped me, I leaned forward again to be able to
kiss him for all that he was worth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>“Where do you want me”, I asked him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe those were the first words spoken
to that point.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He rolled us over, never separating our bodies, never
saying a word (our laughter not counting), taking me to my back, w him nestled
lovingly between my legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he began
to gently ride me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lifted my legs up,
my knees bent, my ankles in the air brushing against his side as he rocked to
and fro in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rocked my legs and hips
in time w his rocking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the
greatest feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagined his dick
deep inside of me slick w the juices from my recent orgasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought of him pumping me even more full
soon w his fluids; his fluids then mixing w mine, inside of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point, he stopped thrusting into me,
while I continued rocking my knees back and forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt like I was taking him for the ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was like earlier when I had him use his
grip on my waist to make my body move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now it was my turn to make him cum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I did not have the strength to rock his entire body, but I could rock my
body underneath his.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I suspect I
am doing a pitiful job explaining it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was awesome though and I loved doing it for him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Like Harley earlier, I kept my pace steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was totally into it when I felt him begin
to rock w me again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was nearing his
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoyed feeling that it was my
moving underneath him which brought him to nearly climaxing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think he enjoyed it as well because he did
not rock w me much, just every now and again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mostly, he was letting me do all the work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I held my pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to make this man cum inside of
me, I challenged myself silently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
lowered his head onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him
tight and close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to rock a
little faster without letting it become awkward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was his hands squeezing my shoulders, not
his breathing, which gave away that his moment was rapidly approaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt like a racehorse nearing the finish
line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My rider was in perfect synch w my
body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I raced for the finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more his hands squeezed my shoulders, the
more motivated I felt to bring him to his release.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His head buried into my chest, his hands
holding my shoulders, his grip suddenly tightened down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was exploding inside of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had taken him to the finish line.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I loved the bit that followed, and the point of my post, cuddling
after sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kissed me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not tell you how many times; enough
that I felt well appreciated for what I had done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he lay his head back down on my
shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My arms and legs wrapped
around him, hugging him, just as my pussy was hugging his dick which remained
deep inside me, filling my entrance, keeping his semen inside me, keeping his
juices mixing w my own juices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, I
am going to admit something that I have never told anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A long time ago, I took a vial and put some
of the aftermath of our love into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
keep it hidden in my jewelry box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
jokingly told Harley once, but he thought I was just joking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran my nails along his back the way I knew
he liked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a perfect ending to a
perfect evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a few minutes, w
his steady breathing, and not moving, I realized he was sound asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Okay, this was new . . . ?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I continued to gently scratch his back while he slept on
top of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not know as I have ever
had a lover go to sleep on top of me while he was still inside of me
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did know that Harley had never
gone to sleep while still inside of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
decided I kind of liked it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not
something I would want to happen often, but it was a nice feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoyed him being that relaxed and that
comfortable w me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was hard for
the moment not to feel intimate w his dick still inside me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harley was asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sun was asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like
every fucking body was asleep . . . every fucking body but me still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Except now I was kind of okay w it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I must have gone to sleep, because it was not as dark in
the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harley was still inside of
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had moved his arms some, one of
them was now stretched down along our sides instead of holding my
shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was surprised that I
remained pretty comfortable really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was in no special hurry to lose my Harley-blanket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking back, I wonder if I would have felt
the same if he had slipped out of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
dunno.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is hard to tell because it
was not what happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not know if
I went back to sleep or if I simply lay there is some semi-trance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What I remember is feeling him wake up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He quickly began to apologize for literally
going to sleep on me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped him,
telling him that I really enjoyed having him exactly where he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him that I could have slapped his ass
for a change if I had wanted him to move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The entire time we were having this discussion, I was still firmly
impaled on his length.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Looking down into my eyes, he asked if I was in a hurry
to be anywhere that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took
this to be Harley-speak for his wanting to get up but his wanting to say it was
because I wanted to get up. When I saw that the sun was coming up, I had fully
expected Harley to jump out of bed the moment he was awake and no longer inside
of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him “no”, quickly adding
that I understood he had things he needed to do before he went to work. His having to work the next day is why we had
not stayed in a motel along the beach the night before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew his shift was in a few hours and I
knew Harley was not the type to lie around in bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he surprised me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this is my final proof for why I say
Harley is a cuddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lie around in bed
is exactly what we did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He slid off me,
pulling his dick out of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
strange sensation suddenly being deprived of the fullness he had given me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he lowered his head to kiss me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was at this point, after he kissed me,
that I expected him to jump out of bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead, without saying a word, he turned me to my side, wrapped his
arms around me, holding me tight, and went right back to sleep, my back to his
front.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I put my hands on his forearms and slid peacefully into
sleep my own self.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was in heaven.</span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-72393224403342753912015-10-31T00:23:00.000-04:002015-10-31T00:23:52.873-04:00Naked Chess<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am sure my fascination w this picture, like Rorschach's Ink Blots, says something about me. And I am not sure I want to know what it says about me. :)</span></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8i3HS_RfmFBklcSI8Hfw5v7CPgVB6hC-k2OzKxR36qJp-68uX7nbJuDlp7_HwjOREVk1hqGfD2Ay6tOR_G5JCixVnOPPhlck5rAMBez9sxfaflaNWz56IQXznoPmbgZaVUAPf8N8hdqo/s1600/strategem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8i3HS_RfmFBklcSI8Hfw5v7CPgVB6hC-k2OzKxR36qJp-68uX7nbJuDlp7_HwjOREVk1hqGfD2Ay6tOR_G5JCixVnOPPhlck5rAMBez9sxfaflaNWz56IQXznoPmbgZaVUAPf8N8hdqo/s1600/strategem.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think it was Advizor who originally posted it as part of his weekly FFF. I remember seeing it and being immediately turned on by it. After spotting it on his blog, I had two tasks that needed my immediate attention. The first, I needed to write a short story. I got it written, but did not get it posted. The second, I needed the Boyfriend inside of me. I got that handled as well. Scrolling through some old photos, I came across this photo again. It still turns me on. And the Boyfriend is getting ready to benefit again!!!</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like being naked.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like being naked for the man I love. I like the idea of him still being dressed while I am so exposed.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I would probably HAVE to be naked if I
hoped to win a game of chess (LMAO!!).</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why does it turn me on so much? I really do not know. Y’all figure it out.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Okay, time to go wake up the Boyfriend . . . :)</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-22699057420798970802015-10-23T00:50:00.001-04:002015-10-23T00:50:21.432-04:00Blogger Still Hates Me<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been home sick for the
past week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I caught the Boyfriend’s
cold and I thought it was going to kill me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Had all the usual symptoms, but probably the worst for me has been the
exhaustion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another Rachel fun fact –
snotty tissues need to be immediately destroyed, burned to ashes, sent to an
alternative dimension, whatever it takes for them to NOT be around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom would sit in the living room, blow her
nose, and leave her biohazardous waste on her table until someone – usually me –
cleaned up after her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot even have
a waste basket in my bedroom w them in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So, when my nose was pouring snot, to where I am nearly drowning it is
so bad, I have to go to the bathroom to blow my nose where I can flush the
tissue gone from my universe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the
teeny walk from by bed to the bathroom felt the Boston Marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up sleeping in the bathroom simply
because I did not have the energy to crawl back to my bed.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, except for still feeling
wiped out w the slightest task, I started to feel better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Home alone, pretty much stuck in bed, no one
to talk too w everyone I know being at work – what’s a girl gonna do to pass
the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why, take naked pictures for
my blog, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Except that Blogger still hates
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or possibly Blogger does not like
the way I look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both make me sad .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not know why Blogger would hate me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while I am not ravishing, I do think I am
fairly cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I really do not know
what Blogger’s attitude is w me posting pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I know is that I have tried everything I
know to try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone blames it on
Windows 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I had issues
before w Blogger before Windows 10 was even a glimmer in Bill Gates eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, until I can figure out why
Blogger hates me, the best I can do is DESCRIBE my naked pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I was pretty cute in all of them <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I might have even been “ravishing” in a
few</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">. </span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-66155098404255637882015-10-17T11:00:00.000-04:002015-10-17T11:00:03.297-04:00The Boyfriend Gets Lucky Again<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Indulge me returning to the day of the Boyfriend's heat stroke. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He had slept through the
night w/o issue.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By morning, I was less
worried about him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Nurse Rachel had
saved another patient.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Nurse Rachel, however, was having
issues of her own. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Nurse Rachel had woken up
thinking about last night.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had made
love one more time last night after the game. It was slow and pleasant.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was different.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And thinking about it had made Nurse Rachel
very horny.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the game, I had turned off
the light.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He woke up enough to roll
over and lay his head on my chest.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think
that was all he initially intended, just to cuddle w his head on my
shoulder.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I said good night.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He thanked me yet again for being there for
him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We ended up talking, nothing
serious, just light chatter about nothing serious.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After a bit, while we were still talking
about nothing in particular, I felt his hand beginning to roam.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I laugh thinking about it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Does not matter the age, men and boys, they
never change.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Telling the story now, it
is hard not to remember all the boys who started making their move the same way
years ago in high school.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But those are
stories for another day.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Like I said previously,
I never stopped loving the Boyfriend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
just wanted more from a relationship.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
don’t know – maybe the problem is that I don’t know what I want.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As far as for right then, I did know what I
wanted.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted his hand to keep doing
what it was doing.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted him to be
happy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted him to feel good.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And he was certainly making me feel good as
well.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The interesting thing, to me
anyway, was that as his hand roamed my body, pausing at the interesting places,
and then continuing on, we never stopped our idle chatter.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you could only hear us talking, you would
have been surprised to know that he was getting his index finger slick w my
juices and then running it around my nipples.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot begin to tell you how long he kept this up.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He seemed to be happily enjoying himself.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It made me feel good that, after all the crap
he has had to endure lately, he was able to feel some pleasure w me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And it felt good.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Really good.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was in no hurry to get more intense.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was curious to see where he was going w this.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We just kept talking about nothing in
particular.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The conversation did drift
towards past dates we had gone on.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
mentioned the night we went to the movies for one of our first dates and how he
spent most of the movie trying to cop a feel.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I laughed and asked if he could name the movie.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“There was a movie?” he laughed back.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s kind of how the conversation went.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He dipped his finger into my soaking sheath,
flittered it across my clit a time or two, then would draw on more parts of my
body w my wetness.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was like he was
finger painting me w a shiny coat of me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aside from pulling my top off me (I was already w/o panties), he said nothing
about what he was doing.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think it was
all the more pleasurable because we just kept talking, but never talking about
what he was doing to me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Slowly, he began to focus more on
my trigger.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At first, he simply lingered
there a little longer before moving on to paint me elsewhere w my wetness.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Several times, he took his wet finger to my
lips for me to suck my fluids from it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(Men seem to enjoy watching me taste my own juices - Is it all men or
just the men I pick?)</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over time, his
fingers lingered longer and longer on my trigger.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After he had particularly covered my nipple w
my juices, he lowered his heard further from shoulder and took my breast into
his mouth.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hmmmmm, his gentle bite felt
good.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And as he took my breast into his
mouth, he slid his finger deeper inside me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had my arm around him, both hands playing w his hair and he continued
to suckle my breast.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Leaving my sheath,
he took his extra wet fingers and began to massage my trigger at length.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our idle chatter had stopped finally.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All that could be heard now was my moaning
and his hunger as he devoured my breast.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The more I moaned, the more aggressive he became w my breast and w my
trigger.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the more aggressive he
became, he more I moaned.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were a good
pair!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I do not know if I gave him any
warning or not.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I remember only when the
first wave hit me that I squeezed my legs together, holding his fingers inside
of me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I pulled his head harder into my
bosom.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He responded by taking more of me
into his mouth and biting all the harder.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As the waves crashed over me, I squeezed his hand inside of me all the
harder w my legs and pulled his head all the harder onto my breast.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was being impaled and devoured
simultaneously. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When the last wave passed, I lay
there intoxicated in the moment.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
released his firm grip on my breast, but continued to caress it w his tongue
and lips.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He kept his fingers deep
inside me for a while longer maintaining that feeling of him being inside of
me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He gently spread my knees further
apart and then, w/o words still, got between them.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He easily slipped into me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is a special feeling that initial feeling
of fullness.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I missed you”, I said to him w/o
thinking about it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I missed you more”, he said
back.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I love you”, I said.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I expected him to say, “I love
you more”; instead he said, “I have always loved you Rache”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Damned if he did not almost make me cum again
just by saying he loved me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Much like he had that entire
evening, he rode me gently that evening.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He thrust slowly into me like he was gently massaging me from the inside
out.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had stopped the idle chatter,
but still we continued to talk.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now we
talked more about how we felt about each other.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He said again how much he appreciated my helping him w the lawns.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And while that was like the millionth time he
had thanked me, it led to appreciating me for the blow job I gave him in the
shower.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What’s a girlfriend for,” I
laughed, “if not for getting on her knees when her boyfriend is having a
matter”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We talked about different times
we made love in the past.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He would
recall a memory.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would recall a
memory.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was interesting to listen to
him tell me things he was thinking or visualizing</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">when we had made love before, all the time he
continued gently riding me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Much like me w him, he did not
give me any real warning that he was about to cum.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was just suddenly very close.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He had stopped talking and had buried his
head into my shoulder.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wrapped my arms
around him and held him tight.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Cum in me baby”, I whispered,
“cum in me”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After he came, we were both as
relaxed as any two people could be.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was something so special
about the night that, come morning; I just lay there thinking about it again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got all worked up again and desperately
need him back inside of me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He woke up
to the feel of my mouth going around his dick - a perfect way for any man to
wake up, if I do say so myself.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I held
him deep in my mouth, my tongue wrapping around him, feeling him grow harder
and harder.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I like it when I make him
hard in my mouth.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then, I straddled him
and slipped him back home inside of me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“This is where you belong”, I said to him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was my turn to gently ride
him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-64918746767243206332015-10-15T23:56:00.001-04:002015-10-15T23:56:14.004-04:00Not A Good Week To Be A Gator
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The week ended awesome w another
Florida victory.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had sat there, on the Boyfriend’s
bed, w him snoring peacefully, and me sitting cross-legged and nervously
hugging my pillow, watching the closing minutes of the game.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I read once about how you spot a true Florida
Gator fan (I cannot take credit for this):</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Up by three touchdowns, one minute to go, Gators have possession of the
ball, a die-hard Florida fan will still be on the edge of their seat thinking –
“somehow, someway, I know we can still lose this game”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That night, and the post game celebration w
the Boyfriend (more on that later), made for a perfect night – a night I want
to remember forever.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this week has been one I
would like to forget forever.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The UPS man came into the office
and sought me out like he normally does.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is an Alabama fan so he likes to gloat.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It occurs to me that now might be
a good time to pause and explain.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a
girl that likes sports.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I do not think
that odd, but apparently I am something of an exception.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like I said, it does not seem odd to me
because I have always liked sports.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some
of my favorite childhood memories w Daddy are the two of us watching the Gators
or the Dolphins together.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And later,
when things got rough between Mom and me, sports was something that me and Daddy
could talk about.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember once when
Mom and I had been fighting really bad, Daddy called me into the garage.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went w an attitude because that’s what I
did back then.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He threw my baseball
glove at me and asked if I would play catch w him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was never on a softball team or anything
like that.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Playing catch was just
something Daddy had liked to do when I was much younger and he taught me to do
it w him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those are also special
memories.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It had been a few years since
we last played catch, so it caught me off guard.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was no “talk”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We said very little actually.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We just fell back into enjoying being
together.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Daddy can be Andy Griffin
smart sometimes.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe because of that,
maybe because of some internal genetic wiring, I am a girl that really likes her
sports.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know we cannot be that rare,
but you would think I was the only one from the way my girlfriends act.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I say that about my girlfriends and the guys
never say a word.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guys are another reason I really
like sports (get your minds out of the gutter).</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Daddy was in the hospital last year (part of the reason for my
disappearing act and I will talk more about it someday soon), it was a lonely
scary time for me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Football made it
easier.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One time, I was walking the hallways
when I passed a group of hospital staff, all men, debating the rankings and who
deserved to be in the top four.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a
remark, I forget what now, intending to just keep walking.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead, they got me talking and for thirty
minutes I did not feel so alone.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got
to know quite a few people there all from just having football to talk
about.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I work w mostly men.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sports, especially football, is that
universal topic I can talk about w almost all of them.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nobody gets weird thinking I am trying to
flirt w them.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most don’t get caught into
trying to impress me w their knowledge.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which all circles back to the UPS
man coming into my office, I’m thinking to gloat again about Alabama or Nick
Saban.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead, he asks me what I
thought about the news.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What news”?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m thinking he is playing a cruel joke when
he tells me about Florida’s quarterback being suspended, so I race to open up
Google.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seconds later, I just want to
cry.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that has been pretty much how I
have felt all week.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something else
happens and I just feel like crying.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, Will Grier is suspended (I
will not be commenting on this . . . ever).</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, Spurrier resigns.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will always
consider him a Gator foremost, no matter where he is at.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And last night, another player was suspended
for firing a gun at his pregnant girlfriend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not bad enough he had to shoot at his girlfriend . . . he had to shoot
at his “pregnant” girlfriend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">C’mon . .
. really?!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, last thing, my ‘Bama UPS fan
really was not trying to upset me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aside
from the occasional gloating, he is a pretty good guy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think he was really just trying to be
supportive.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He did not think that I had
not heard yet.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best thing I can say about
this week is that it is almost over.</span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-20728584831314678292015-10-10T20:30:00.000-04:002015-10-10T23:46:42.874-04:00Changing The Boyfriend's Luck<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am sitting cross-legged in the Boyfriend’s bed, laptop
in my lap, watching the Gator game.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The
Boyfriend is sound asleep next to me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Call it my own little superstition.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I feel like the Gators have more luck when I am doing something more
than just watching the game.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Make fun of
me all you want.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Boyfriend has not been having a good week.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He bought a new car.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This may not seem like much, but the
Boyfriend is thrifty (this is me trying to politely say he is cheap).</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He white knuckles every penny before he will
grudgingly let go of it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He liked his
car and was not looking to let her go.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But the mechanic said he was looking at a lot of repairs in the near
future, convincing him it might actually be cheaper in the long run to go ahead
and spend the money for a new car.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It
took a little Rachel-encouragement, but he avoided practical and finally found a
car he really loved.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He stopped for a
red light - the car behind him did not.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Less than a month old, his shiny red Charger was a crunched mess.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He has a new Director.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And she was apparently trying to run everyone
off who had been brought in by her predecessor.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I never understand why upper management allows these firing-fests to go
on, but we have all seen it happen time and again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Boyfriend has been living w a bull’s eye
on his chest.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The poor guy went to work
every day waiting for the phone call to come to her office.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot even begin to imagine what it is
like for him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His dad has been sick.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His uncle (on his mom’s side) has been
sick.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A co-worker of his, an older woman
w no children on this side of the continent, had fallen and broken her
leg.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He offered to help each of them w
their yard work until they were able to do it again for themselves.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And none had a small yard either.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Boyfriend, the man who lives in an
apartment w no yard of his own to take care of, now spends an entire day every
week mowing lawns.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He had one Hell of a
tan.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then he comes down w a cold.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I said it was a cold - he insists he is dying
from the plague.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ugh, this is me rolling
my eyes and saying again, “It is just a cold”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I will agree w him about one thing – it is killing him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well, what is actually killing him is that
he keeps pushing himself and is not getting any rest.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He felt it dangerous to call out sick given
the politics w his new Director.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And
sick or not, the lawns were not going to mow themselves.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whether he simply had a cold or was dying
from the plague, he was trying to power through.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is where I come in.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When he called me this afternoon,
he was in sad shape.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was finishing his third lawn,
trying to get them all done so he had nothing to do tomorrow.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He had finished his dad and uncle’s lawns and was
apparently trying to power through his co-worker’s lawn.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He said he was trying to get her lawn done
when he finally just could not stand up any longer.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He sat down right there in her yard to catch
his breath.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then he lay down.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Twenty minutes later, he still had not gotten
back up.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He called me from his cell
saying he was not sure he could stand back up.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“There’s nothing left in the tank”, he kept saying.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I do not think he realized that he was
repeating himself. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was miserable.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I ran to him in no time.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I managed to get him into some shade, the
entire time he was apologizing for calling me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In addition to all the apologies, he kept insisting he would be okay in
just a few minutes, that he would be able to finish mowing, and if I would mind
waiting for him to finish mowing and just help him drive home, then he would
leave me alone.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yeah, I pretty much just
ignored him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Putting him into the shade
(the goof had been sitting in the sun), I wrapped a wet towel around his neck and
gave him a Gatorade.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I proceeded to
finish mowing the lawn myself (read my blog to see that I am quite popular for
my mad mowing skills).</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was using her
mower, so I simply had to return it to the shed when I was finished.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then came the more challenging task of
getting him into my car and back home (I decided we were going to leave his car
at her place for now).</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We managed it,
but then I questioned the walk from my car into his apartment.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I debated taking him to my home where I had
Daddy for more help if needed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But he
needed a shower and to get into something dry – the poor thing was soaked
through – and that meant a stop at his place anyway.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His place was, of course, the exact opposite
direction from my place.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And he probably
would feel more comfortable in his cave.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I debated calling Harley for help.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have no doubt that Harley would have rushed over to help.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But then I would need therapy for the rest of
my life.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Internal debate settled, I
turned towards the Boyfriend’s apartment.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got into his apartment, but
that seemed to tap whatever reserves he had found.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He insisted on laying down on the living room
carpet saying he just needed a moment.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
knew the Boyfriend and I knew from his tone that a “moment” was going to be
anything but a “moment”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I fought the
useless battle - he was spent.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I did
manage to get a beach towel under him thinking that might feel better than the
stiff carpet.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And I managed to get him
out of most of his clothing.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yuck is all
I have to say about touching those sweaty things!!!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was not much better.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was covered in dirt and grass.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The sweat was still rolling off him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another plus for the beach towel under
him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Driving him home, we had to put the
windows down because he had complained of freezing from the A/C.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was afraid he might get too cold now that
he was inside and still wet w sweat, so I covered him a little bit w another
towel.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I insisted he wake up enough to
drink a little bit more.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was pretty
sure he was dehydrated.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He drank a
little bit more because I think he knew it was the only way to get me to shut
up.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He lay there, dead to the world.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I sat down on the floor beside
him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After yet another internal debate,
I got a rag and bowl of warm water, then I proceeded to wipe down his face,
arms, back, and legs.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I did not know
what I was doing.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He looked clammy to
me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I did not want to disturb him
resting.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I also was not sure
anything could disturb him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And again, I
did not like the way he looked.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was still
afraid he might get a chill from being covered in sweat and now in his air
conditioned apartment.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If nothing else,
I thought, after I wipe him down a bit he might rest a little better.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess I did something right.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He seemed to enjoy it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I asked him if he wanted me to wipe down his
chest too.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He rolled over without saying
a word.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got the hint.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I toweled him dry.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then I just continued to sit there beside
him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am not really sure how I knew
since his eyes remained closed and he had not really moved any, but I sensed he
had woken up.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was sitting close.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He stunk – love is not a perfume – to bad for
me to lie down next to him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got on my
knees to whisper into his face, “want to try getting that shower now.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I still think a warm shower will help you
feel better”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He grunted okay, but I think he
was just trying to shut me up again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If
he had his way, he would have stayed right there the rest of the weekend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He kind of got to his knees.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was not moving fast.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Rach, I really don’t think I can”, he
finally said. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I helped him to his feet.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The two of us managed it to the shower;
slowly.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He sat, more like fell, onto the
toilet while I started the shower.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He insisted
he would be okay to take a shower when I asked him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He insisted he would be okay, but he also
kept sitting on the toilet; not moving, eyes closed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another internal debate later, I began
stripping out of my clothes.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It should
be a testament to how he was feeling that he did not notice until we were both
literally standing in the shower together.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I should call you for help more
often”, he teased when he did notice.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Shut up and give me your back”,
I said in a teasing firm tone back to him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Done washing his back, I turned
him around and just had him stand there for a bit w the hot water on his
back.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Washing his chest, it was hard NOT
to notice something developing.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh my God”, I shouted at him, “I
swear a man can be on his deathbed and will still get a boner”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It’s not my fault”, he
protested.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Like it’s mine”, I joked back.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Most beautiful girl I have ever
known, naked, in a hot shower, rubbing me . . . yeah, I’d pretty much say it’s
your fault”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Besides”, he added, “you’re like
the best thing that’s happened to me all week . . . all month . . . ever”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You’re just trying to get into
my pants”, I joked.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Must be working since . . . um .
. . they’re off”.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He reached his arms around me,
both pulling me closer and pulling my hair so that my face angled up to meet
his.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We kissed.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I do not deny it – I love the
Boyfriend.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And I love Harley.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Boyfriend loves me too.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God, I wish so many times that was enough to
make me happy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But apparently it isn’t
because being w the Boyfriend does not make me happy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Harley loves me . . . I think . . . maybe it
isn’t love . . . because he runs away.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But being w Harley makes me happy . . . until he runs away.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the Boyfriend has his own way of running
away too; we have gone months w/o his touching me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t know.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is all so confusing to me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It
is partially why I started writing this blog years ago, to kind of try to think
about it out loud so to speak, and here I am still trying to figure it out.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">None of those thoughts were in
the front of my brain just then.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What was foremost in my thoughts
at that precise moment was the Boyfriend’s hard-on which was pressing into my
mid-section while we kissed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had not
gotten into the shower w him w the intention of making love.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had spent the past several hours worried to
death about him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was truly concerned about
him and my being in the shower as well seemed like the safest way to make sure
he did not fall and kill himself.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I suppose you’re hoping I will
help take care of that for you”, I asked him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I wasn’t sure you’d be
interested”, he said.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He did not say it
in whiney mode.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was more like a statement
of fact.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He understood why I had gotten
into the shower w him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It had been a
while since we had been together sexually.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Normally, I prefer a strong confident man.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Strangely, I appreciated his understanding in
this case and in an even more bizarre way it made me all the more wanting to
sleep w him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well, I am naked in your shower
w you . . . that’s pretty much universal girl code for you’re gonna get lucky”,
I joked w him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Tell me what you would like me
to do”, I continued, taking his erection into my hands.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It may only be a Rachel thing, but I like
hearing the Boyfriend tell me what dirty thing he wants me to do for him.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The dirtier his instructions, the
better.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is another place the
Boyfriend has a problem though – it is hard for him to open up w me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Imagine it – I am naked, holding his dick in
my hand, essentially offering to do whatever he tells me.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">How much more of a ‘sure thing’ can it be?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And yet, w all that, he is still too nervous
to tell me to bend over like the slut I am for him to fuck.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Except this time apparently . . . </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I want to see my dick in your
mouth”, he said.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was shocked to say
the least.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I knew him so I also heard the
nervousness in his voice.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But still . .
. he did it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">How could I not reward him
for it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I can do that for you”, I said
in my most submissive tone, lowering myself onto my knees.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His back blocked the spray from my face,
making it possible for me to give him a good show of his dick filling my
mouth.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-32685879212459155102015-10-06T23:23:00.000-04:002015-10-06T23:23:00.610-04:00Awkward
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Touching base w an old friend
that you suddenly stopped talking too for no apparent reason is fucking
awkward.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No matter what you say, there
really is no good excuse for being a lame ass and disappearing.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Harley has made me an expert of sorts on lame
ass boyfriends who disappear.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Harley is
always the lame ass getting into the “Vanishing Cabinet” and I am always the confused
girlfriend left behind wondering what she had done wrong.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I pulled a Harley, it only seems fitting that I use his method of
returning – namely, I completely ignore that I was ever gone.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, stop throwing things at your computer,
I mean only that I will ignore my disappearing act FOR NOW.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to talk about the past – but at
another time.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And maybe not all at
once.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is some great stuff that I
am excited to share.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And there is some bad
stuff that I am not so excited to talk about.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am always so fucking angry w Harley when he reappears.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the same time, my heart is about to burst
because it feels good to just see him again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That’s me, for right now, I want to just enjoy feeling good because I am
back and talking again here w y’all.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And none of that was actually the
awkward I was talking about for this post!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am dying to tell someone about
what happened last night.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew Daddy had been dating
again.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was not something we talked
about.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mom has been gone ("gone" - I notice that I use almost every euphemism there is rather than say "Mom died" - and yes, it hurt to write it just now) for a while now
and, well, Daddy is still pretty young and in awesome shape in my biased
opinion.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Never the less, my naive brain
had not imagined bumping into an over-night guest . . . literally.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was the middle of the
night.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I only woke up because I had to
pee.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had no desire to get out of my bed, but
there was no ignoring my bladder and going back to sleep.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No lights.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just run to the bathroom, pee, then race back to bed before I was
officially wide awake.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But then I wanted a
drink too.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, no worries, just a
quick detour to the kitchen after peeing before returning to my nice bid warm
comfortable bed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I run into the kitchen
and run right into Mrs. Smith (obviously not her real name).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We crashed into one another at
the kitchen counter.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently, both of
us had wanted a quick drink.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I turned on
a small light.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was wearing one of
Daddy’s dress shirts . . . the one I recalled watching him leave the house
wearing earlier that evening.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It looked different on
her.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her husband had died as well four
to five years ago and I had known her long before then.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She leaned back against the counter while we each
tried to pretend this was completely normal.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was not sure the protocol. What does a daughter do when she bumps into the half-dressed woman who's been banging her father; do we hug, shake hands, what.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I opted for the hand shake.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that’s when I realized she was holding
Daddy’s shirt closed w her hands because it was still unbuttoned . . . making
us more familiar w each other than we had ever planned.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Awkward.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She got a glass of wine before
returning w it to Daddy’s room.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She had
been getting water when I walked into her.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm thinking she needed something stronger after we met.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a bit funny I can say now
in hindsight.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is not like I am a stranger to
the ‘walk of shame’.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Missed y'all.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-10482613381491541352015-10-04T17:32:00.000-04:002015-10-04T17:32:36.847-04:00I Have Missed Being Here Terribly And . . . <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. . . I am returning soon.</span>rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-10208232385168234532014-11-26T20:25:00.001-05:002014-11-26T20:25:14.372-05:00This Thanksgiving, I Want To Give Thanks . . . <div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. . . For every one of y'all. I appreciate your support, encouragement, and friendship while I talk about the things that I really don't have anywhere else to talk about.</span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-9790319634705941792014-11-24T21:17:00.000-05:002014-11-24T21:17:31.617-05:00Dr Jekyl meet Mr Hyde meet Dr Jekyll<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had been working on a post describing KSD ("Kinda/Sorta Date") as a veritable Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I was initially intending that description as a good thing meaning he was a real beast in the bedroom. What I posted about on the beach was just a warm up to what he offered in the bedroom. The problem was that I found myself complaining about his ultra-timid behaviors outside of the bedroom. I figured I was just being an ungrateful bitch.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The Dr. Jekyll side was sweet and polite; polite almost to the point of being annoying. I realize I sound like an annoying bitch who wanted it all. It was sweet that he was considerate to what I wanted, but sometimes - just like in the bedroom - stop thinking about what I want and tell me what you want . . . better yet, just do what you want. I will tell you if there is a problem. The Mr. Hyde side </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">had done unspeakable things to me (not really, poetic license cause it just sounded better . . . smiling), so you'd think asking me to dinner would not be that much of a challenge. And it was not like he actually asked when he did ask; it was more like he hinted. Was I busy? What was I doing tonight? Did I have any big plans for the weekend? Hinting until I eventually asked him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Lately, I'm starting to think that his Dr. Jekyll is not nearly as sweet and polite as I had thought. Not that long ago, he did his usual hinting around, only that time I did not make the first move myself. I truly was not being passive-aggressive, I was tired and wanted to stay home that night, I up-front told him that was what I had planned. He called and texted me several times that night. Okay, I didn't really think anything of it other than I was annoyed because I just wanted to watch a movie uninterrupted and crash early. We went out the next night and all was good. A few nights, I've noticed, that when I am slow to respond back to his texts, he blows my phone up until I do respond. I told myself that I was being paranoid because I was in an abusive relationship. I tried talking to him. I thought it went pretty well. I thought we made a connection. It felt good. This past Friday night, when he did his usual hinting around, I told him that it was "Girl's Night Out", but told him I'd love to see him Saturday night. I was having a great night. Not doing anything that would cause any jealousy - not that KSD and I were in an exclusive relationship yet. We had this great talk, I thought we were in a good place together, so you can imagine my surprise to see him tucked away in the back of the bar. I was shocked, but mostly I was pissed. I texted him that I saw him and that I did not appreciate his checking up on me. KSD rushed over to talk w me, falling all over himself to apologize. I'm actually pretty forgiving, so it maybe would have gone well from there if he had just left when I said I didn't want to talk right then. But he wouldn't - he wouldn't stop until I talked to him. The bartender sensed I was having a problem, so she had Security come over (it pains me to admit that I know everyone down there, including the bouncers and all the bartenders). He left at that point. I pussed out the next day and just texted that I didn't feel well. He started blowing up my phone again . . . until I finally texted (again, the coward's way out) that I thought it best we take some time apart. </span></span><br />
</div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-62696191883556510802014-11-12T19:00:00.000-05:002014-11-12T19:00:06.594-05:00Are Blowjobs More Intimate Than Sex?<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A funny video (made laugh so hard I nearly wet my pants).</span></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPxSU7zDmOE">Why Blowjobs Are More Intimate Than Sex</a></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may be in the minority, but I also happen to agree w it. Laughing.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-10123269918807654902014-11-09T17:19:00.002-05:002014-11-09T17:19:10.297-05:00He Scores!!!<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's about time I finished my last post on my date w KSD ("Kinda/Sorta Date"). By the time the game ended last week, I was excited and fed and pleasantly buzzed. Sticking w the football analogy, there was nothing between KSD and the end zone. To steal a quote from ESPN, "he could go all the way".</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"You in a hurry to get back," he asked holding my hand walking to his car.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"Whacha got in mind," I teased him.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"I was thinking we could take a drive to the beach, maybe take a walk".</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Romantic. Nice move. "Makes for a long drive back late at night", I said.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"We don't necessarily have to drive back tonight," he said w just enough of a joking tone to see which way I would take it - as a joke or serious.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"I got nowhere to be tomorrow". </span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I loved the smile that lit up his face then. He all but ran to the car pulling me along w him.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now that we had established, in a manner of speaking, that we were going to do this, he was fair game for me to tease w/o mercy. "It will be dark on the beach (mandatory lights out along the beach so as to not confuse the sea turtles), I would be tempted to strip down to my panties and bra to jump in the ocean . . . but I'm not wearing any".</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">It was a fun drive to the beach and time just flew by. He checked us into a nice hotel. I expected him to lead me straight to the room figuring that 'take a walk along the beach' was a ruse for let's get a room and fuck. I was pleasantly surprised when, instead of leading me to the room, he led me through the hotel towards the beach.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">He slipped out of his shoes and rolled up his pant legs. I slipped out of my heels and thankfully I was wearing a skirt. Holding hands, we then walked along the waters edge. It was October, so there was a chill to the water. "the cold water is making my nips hard", I laughed towards him (I'm pretty sure they were already diamond hard). </span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"Maybe I can warm them up," he joked back. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It occurred to me that was our first kiss for the evening, not counting a few pecks on the cheek like you'd give your mother. We walked a few steps and he pulled me in for another kiss. They were good kisses, not great; firm, no hesitation, just not especially memorable. He must have been thinking too far ahead of himself, because he made up for the routine kisses w his next move. He spun me around to face the ocean, then he began to nuzzle the back of my neck. </span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I got goose bumps and I'm positive he made my nips even harder. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And then his hands started to explore . . . explore me. Still kissing my neck, both his hands took hold of my breasts. It was a firm grip; squeezing w/o causing any pain. He was lifting them. It's a silly quirk of mine. I like the ladies to be lifted up, not pulled down or out. A hand found its way to the inside of my blouse. I had lied earlier - I was wearing a bra. The bra did not deter him for even a second. His one hand slid under my bra, the other continued to firmly hold me outside my blouse. His hand was warm against the coolness of my breast. </span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
"<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're being bad", I moaned hoping he would be even more bad. "You have me soaking wet," I added. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Whether he got the hint or decided himself to try pushing the boundaries, I don't know. I do know that he was doing felt good. His free hand, the one not under my bra, slid south. He pulled my skirt up, not that it was all that long anyway, to where he could finally touch my wetness (on this part I had been honest - I was not wearing panties). He slipped his finger into my valley. Coating his finger w my juices, he brought it up to my lips - for me to taste me on his fingers. I can't speak for all women, but I love it when a man does that. I love tasting me on then. I took care of the juices on his finger, giving him a hint of what he might expect from me later (smiling). He returned his hand to my sheath while he continued to kiss my neck and shoulders and continued to squeeze my breast. Two of the fingers on my breast had taken my nipple between them and were squeezing extra hard. Maybe because of the way I moaned, he soon focused upon kneading my breast and twisting my nip. It does not happen often, but if the situation is just right, I am one of those women who can orgasm by having my nipples squeezed. Between what he was doing between my legs and under my bra, I could feel an orgasm coming. I didn't care where we were standing then. I wanted him to finish me. And he did. When I came, I first reached up and pulled the hair on his head (another hint?). And then I took hold of each of his hands, holding them where they had performed magic w my body. I finally turned and said, "I need you back in the room now". </span></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-25654056778167013632014-11-01T17:33:00.001-04:002014-11-01T17:33:58.191-04:00Florida-Georgia Game<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It has been a rough year for the Gator Nation.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I had an opportunity to tailgate in style to the world's largest outdoor cocktail party. Tailgate in style, in this instance, meant traveling in a convoy of RV's (most worth more than my parents home), each w a wide-screen tv (the smallest being 55"), w all the wings and beer I could this girl could want. It was tempting. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Instead, I chose to stick w my original plans of going to Buffalo Wild Wings on a real date w my man from my "Kinda/Sorta Date" <a href="http://naughtyrachel-xx.blogspot.com/2014/09/kindasorta-date.html?zx=b8c19dc1082d01ce" target="_blank">(Kinda/Sorta Date).</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sitting at Buffalo Wild Wings now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Game is at half-time. And it's been an AWESOME game. GO GATORS!!! Gators are up 14-7 right now!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">We have already killed a two pitchers of beer and just placed our order for wings. Game is great. Gators are playing great. Wild Wings is great. Our waitress is really great (she just winked at me . . . laughing . . . she did it to tease my date . . . bigger tip for her later, huh). Smiling. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Okay, gotta go, game is back on and our wings are coming out. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Woo Hoo!!! Gators just scored again to start the quarter!!! 21-7!!! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My date just might have really good chance to score himself later!!!!</span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-83110209809877653432014-10-23T18:54:00.000-04:002014-10-23T18:54:29.664-04:00Bird-of-Paradise<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6_Y2LlnaOqqkAXd3V2IC1g1yS08bweeerCjRTRpYIrSNCIHfQpyAme7_SFDbCf2TVnldlyrUVUO_MYhyt_RQADCFoE2GDZE5bzAgkc06fCD-tI1dbDQ_rIxXps9JGyxWvmzkV721nb_I/s1600/Bird+of+Paradise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6_Y2LlnaOqqkAXd3V2IC1g1yS08bweeerCjRTRpYIrSNCIHfQpyAme7_SFDbCf2TVnldlyrUVUO_MYhyt_RQADCFoE2GDZE5bzAgkc06fCD-tI1dbDQ_rIxXps9JGyxWvmzkV721nb_I/s1600/Bird+of+Paradise.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I most definitely do not have a green thumb. It's pretty much a guarantee that anything left under my care will die a slow horrible death. (God help me if I should ever actually have any children). Mom was the plant person in our family. I tend to follow more my Dad's lead - leave the watering to God. Needless to say, the color around our house has been reduced to all but the hardiest of bushes. My favorite is the tropical plant Bird-of-Paradise. We have quite a few in our yard and I thought, since I do the mowing now, that I had killed them all. Since Mom passed, I can count on one hand the number of blooms. That is until this year - this is the year of the Bird-of-Paradise. Each plant has multiple blooms. I took a picture tonight. It's hard to say why I love this plant. I remember as a kid thinking how much they looked like birds. And they're orange and blue; can never go wrong being orange and blue.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-42615920346457915802014-10-07T20:00:00.000-04:002014-10-07T20:00:00.781-04:00Boyfriend Booty Call<span lang="EN"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few Friday nights ago, I was settling into my comfortable bed, alone, for an un-eventful evening of watching "The Hobbit". If the movie was as good as promised, then part II was sitting on my bedside table for an evening of marathon viewing. Both had been loaned to me and I was looking forward to a quiet evening. And since I know Advizor54 will ask, I was wearing an extra-large orange Florida Gator jersey w blue panties.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little while into the movie, the Boyfriend texted, "whacha doin?". Now, most will probably not recall, but the Boyfriend is not a texter. So, a "hi howdy" text from him is hugely atypical. His 'outa the blue' text could only mean one thing - he was horny. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that the Boyfriend has made the first move. And I have probably posted about each of those times here!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Following some increasingly intense sexting, I'm slipping into my ugg boots and driving over to his place (I don't know that I will ever be comfortable w men in my bedroom if Daddy is home). I had to be a sight. I was pretty comfy in my bed, but I'd be lying if I said there was not a part of me that wasn't feeling the moment. It was exciting going to the Boyfriend's for a 'booty call'.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pulling up to his place, I almost jumped out in order to go put out. :) I guess I was getting more excited the more I thought about it. Okay, so now I decide to sexy up a bit. I slipped out of my ugg's and panties. The jersey was long enough to cover all my naughty bits. I had already done what I could w my hair and make-up before I left. I had a pair of high heels in the car (my car is a bit of a mess on a good day) which I was debating whether to put on or not. Football jersey w me in heels or football jersey w me barefoot - which would be sexier. The Boyfriend resolved the question for me - and I reckon he was more in need than I had even imagined - he saw me outside and came out to the car to get me. Jersey and bare feet it was then!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Big kiss at the car, he led me - pulled was more like it - inside. It did not take long for me to be stripped naked (I was only wearing the jersey). From his kisses, I gathered that he approved. It may just be me, but I like my lover making me naked while he is still fully dressed. This was Harley's thing, so I guess it kind of became my thing.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Where do you want me", I asked him. Doggy and head were apparently the desired positions. Sadly, for him, he did not last long once he got behind me. I didn't say anything, but inside I was afraid he might be feeling disappointed. Not in me or even himself, just that he wasn't satisfied maybe. I got us some soda's and we curled up onto the couch to watch a little television, still naked - a definite sign he wanted more.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We talked for the longest time about nothing in particular. My hand found its way to his manhood. I asked him what had gotten him so worked up. Of course, at first, he denied that there was anything. He knew me enough to know that I was not going to stop until he fessed up. I teased the head of his penis with my tongue.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Do you like this", I asked.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Want me to keep going".</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Then you have to tell me what got you so worked up".</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He finally conceeded he had been watching porn. "I saw someone that just really reminded me of you and I couldn't let it go", he added. I didn't believe for one second that he had been thinking of me, but that didn't bother me any.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Show me".</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took a bit of coaxing, but he finally relented to my womanly charms (in this case, my mouth around his dick) and pulled up the video. And before you ask Advizor, I will never be able to find it. This wasn't my first porn clip, but I can't really say it looked all that special. A girl giving head and being fucked doggy style on a couch. What was unusual was watching a porn clip w the Boyfriend - I was ready to fuck again. The Boyfriend, however, was going to need a little more 'encouragement' to play some more.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I led him by the hand this time over towards his couch. I sat him down and did my best to re-enact the blowjob part of the clip. I got down on all fours between his legs. Taking his dick between my lips, I simply bobbed my head up and down his length. And lots of eye contact. The Boyfriend loves looking into my eyes when he is inside of me. When he didn't immediately respond, I got a little nervous that maybe I had tried to start him up too soon. I started humming so I could more vigorously bob my head and take him deep into my mouth w/o the fear of gagging; the added benefit being that my humming drives him even more wild. Before long, he was rock solid between my lips. I have always enjoyed making a man hard w my lips.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He stopped me and stood up to get behind me. I smile now when I think back to that moment. That's always the awkard moment - when my lover is trying to position me how he wants me. Some men are too indecisive and I almost have to read their minds to know where they want me. The rare few men like Wide Load and Harley, they just bodily lift and move me . . . almost tossing me around like a play toy (laughing). The Boyfriend is somewhere in the middle, except for those infrequent times when he initiates the move. Then he usually has something particular in mind. That's when he becomes a lot more aggressive in getting me how he wants me. That night was one of those nights!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He moved me to where my knees were on the cushions and I was bent over the back of the couch. I waited for him to penetrate me and relished the feeling of fullness. He thrusted a few times semi-gently. I think it was more him getting the feel for his position. Laughing, he was like a batter taking a few warm up swings. And then he started. OH MY GOD . . . he pounded me like there was no tomorrow. He gripped my ass cheeks, holding me in position, while he hammered me into the back of the sofa cushion. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He was unrelenting.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"He was pulling her hair", I panted to him between thrusts, looking back.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He grapped my hair forcing my head up and facing forward. He used my mane now to hang onto while he rode me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"He was spanking her", I tried to say over the noise we were making.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then he was spanking me; gentle for maybe the first smack or two, but then not so gentle at all. No bruises - but my ass was still red the next day.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He pulled me to my knees a few times when I told him I wanted to taste my juices on his dick. (I happen to love this). But then it was back over the couch.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt his dick throb inside my sore sheath as he began to cum inside of me. He stung my ass, smacking it like an explanation point w each spurt inside of me. Three for those who want to know. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then I just remained like that, bent over the sofa, Boyfriend still inside of me, until he was ready to slip out of the warmth of my sheath. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
</span><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-74695587838784970922014-10-04T17:56:00.001-04:002014-10-04T17:56:06.279-04:00Sexting and Hacked Phones<span lang="EN"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whenever I'm listening to the radio in the car, I'm not always sure I've heard what I think I've heard. This is especially true in the mornings when I'm driving to work, putting on my make-up, brushing my hair, adjusting the girls in my bra, listening to voicemails, texting, thinking about where I might like to go for lunch that day - basically all the things I should not be doing while driving. A few weeks ago, when the news broke about different celebs having their phones hacked, I thought I heard the DJ say that a study found that about a third of the women polled said there were revealing pictures of them on the internet and that most just considered sending naked pictures of themselves a normal part of relationships now.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I thought I might post my thoughts about all of this, I ran into a big problem. My thoughts are a big mess. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess, to begin with, I'm among that group of women who considers sending naughty pictures of myself to my lover to be fun. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single picture I've regretted. As long as no one is being coerced into something they don't want to do, then I think we should just have fun w it. I did. Sadly, there is always someone out there who has to ruin it. In my case, mostly, it was my ex-husband. I really don't want to talk about him here; he is just a sad excuse for a man. After our divorce, pictures that I took for him or that we made together were on the internet for all to see (he never admitted doing it). Now, I guess I am embarrassed by those photos. But not because I'm naked or what they show me doing. I'm embarrassed, if that's any the right word, because he took something that was meant to be special between us and tried to make it hurtful.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The only ones it really hurt were the men I dated afterwards because I was more on guard about every little thing. It was a male co-worker who unintentionally helped me get better one day. He asked if I would go to lunch w him one day. Not a couples date or anything like that. He simply wanted to go to a specific place for lunch. Obviously, I was going to ask him why - which I did once we were at lunch. He told me that this place had been one of his favorite places to go for lunch. In due time, he was in a serious relationship and he often met his girlfriend there for lunch. Then, one day, at that very place, he said she dumped him. (I'm thinking quietly to myself - what a bitch to dump a man at his favorite place. But how some women can be hateful is a topic for another day). He said he avoided the place for months after that - "but I need to re-claim it, I need to make it my place again". I was honored that he asked me to join him on his maiden voyage back to his "place". And it got me to thinking - what all had I given up or stopped doing because someone hurt me? I went to lunch to support a friend, but I think he unknowingly supported me more. Slowly, I began to re-claim the fun things I enjoyed in dating and relationships.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Boyfriend, as non-sexual as is, has always appreciated any picture I have ever sent him. And I always enjoyed doing it. It was sad that some jerk ruined that for me for so long. That's what I thought of the celeb's who had their phones hacked. I'm guessing they had fun sexting their lover. And now some jerk was ruining that for them.</span></div>
</span><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-56953902607219363332014-09-19T13:00:00.000-04:002014-09-19T13:00:02.713-04:00FFF Bad Idea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1fCc_4gwNT04w5Rimflt0WL7YrLNnVRmWs97tleP3JEOoM2935xQysXleTx1LeyUc1hpP-WZnyHYpaeiz8rCKLpdzbpmdVqcmgGfAU0ivmxx-HzsDfk_Y60zLdjpTzbMQpoCvW_FawcA/s1600/Bad+Idea.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/AVvXsEjv1fCc_4gwNT04w5Rimflt0WL7YrLNnVRmWs97tleP3JEOoM2935xQysXleTx1LeyUc1hpP-WZnyHYpaeiz8rCKLpdzbpmdVqcmgGfAU0ivmxx-HzsDfk_Y60zLdjpTzbMQpoCvW_FawcA/s1600/Bad+Idea.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Fight w your boyfriend</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>+ Going to the bar to chill out</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">= bad idea</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> Fighting w your boyfriend</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">+ Going to the bar to chill out</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">+ Calling his best friend for support</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>+ His meeting you there to talk</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">= Really bad idea</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> Fighting w your boyfriend</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">+ Going to the bar to chill out</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">+ Calling his best friend for support</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">+ His meeting you there to talk</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>+ Tequila shots</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">= Worst idea ever</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-27861893003580269862014-09-16T19:39:00.000-04:002014-09-16T19:39:00.529-04:00Vibrating Panties<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A friend emailed this to me the other day and I couldn't stop laughing. Poor girl. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/_lt73OqT-DM/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/_lt73OqT-DM&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/_lt73OqT-DM&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">But then, if I was to be totally honest, a big part of me was intrigued by the idea of it. And if I was to be really totally honest, I'd also admit that I continued to be 'intrigued' by the idea of it while I was taking a shower. I'm not sure I can explain why. Maybe both the naughty and public pieces. I liked the idea of my lover being able to surprise me w a flip of a switch and send tingles through my private bits . . . and nobody surrounding us knowing. Even better, he tortures me to get him a beer, show a little skin, say things to him or he will keep pressing the button.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seriously, knowing my luck, I'd probably have the following happen.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BckP3Qn4J8Y?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, let's keep it honest, just sitting next to Gerard Butler would cause me to orgasm.</span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-53880104274162819082014-09-14T19:00:00.000-04:002014-09-14T19:00:03.309-04:00Kinda/Sorta Date<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I swear - I think being a Gator is going to cause my heart to explode.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All in the Gator Nation (isn't that everyone?) know that, two weeks ago, the sky parted to unleash a fury upon Florida Field. Granted, it is known as "The Swamp". But the continuous lightening did discourage even the most intrepid Gator from taking the field. The whole ten seconds that they did play, the Gator looked more like he really was running through a swamp than a football field. We were at a sports bar and kept waiting because we knew that eventually the storm would pass - it didn't. Okay, we also kept waiting because there was beer.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And then last night! Triple overtime!! Really!!! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">On a lighter note, I went to the sports bar - appropriately named "Gators" - on a kinda/sorta date, I guess. It didn't really start out as a date. I had been asked out to watch the game, but I encouraged him instead to join a group of us that had decided to meet at "Gators" to watch the game. I guess, to be fair to him, it became a date when we made arrangements for him to pick me up. Now, to be fair to me, I had plans already to ride w someone because I did not want to worry about drinking and driving. As I read what I'm writing, I'm thinking - "what a bitch". But really, I wasn't looking to go out on a date that night. I was just planning to hook up w friends, not just girls, to have a good time and watch the game. A girlfriend was already set to pick me up, but he did live just a stone's throw from me and when he offered to get me instead to my girlfriend - who was driving a little bit out of her way - well, it only made sense. I guess it became a date to me when he started buying my beers and I didn't protest. Now, besides making me sound bad, I'm making him sound like he was not datable material. No, really, he's a really nice guy (yes, I know, I had a guy friend tell me that being called "nice" was the kiss of death - but that's a discussion for another day). I guess, what I'm saying is that, from my perspective, we kinda/sorta fell into a date. And, maybe that was a good thing, because I'm not sure that I would have ever said "yes" to going out w him. As it turned out, I had a real nice time . . . and I think he did too. Hours of waiting w many wings and pitchers of beer consumed, he suggested we go see "Guardians of the Galaxy". I'd seen it before (which I didn't tell him - thinking about it, he might have already seen it too but didn't tell me), but was totally into seeing it again. Great movie. And I never grow tired of looking at Chris Pratt!!! Now, I did sincerely offer to pay for the tickets since he had paid for dinner and drinks. He stayed true to guy code and wouldn't let me. The movie was awesome, as I knew it would be. He put his arm around me. I lifted up the armrest between our seats and curled up into him. He caught a little side-boob action. At first, I thought it was accidental, but when he kept running his fingers up and down . . . well, once is maybe accidental and he went way past the once. (Silent laughing). Anyone looking for more sordid details, that was really the extent of the 'action'. My favorite part of our "date" was when we walked back to his car. He was opening the door for me, but then he suddenly stopped me from getting in - instead, he pulled me into him for a long lingering kiss. I love to kiss. His was perfect. When he drove me home, he walked me to my door and kissed me again the same way. Yes, I did the girly thing, and just leaned against the inside of the door after I closed it, smiling.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-67236115719999552892014-09-07T16:32:00.000-04:002014-09-07T16:32:08.719-04:00Mowing Rain Out<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday is lawn mowing day or, as Daddy calls it, the day Rachel encourages Mr. Murphy to sit outside and get some fresh air. Well, right now, its lightening and pouring (yep, the same kind of storm that caused my beloved Gators to cancel their home opener). I'd seen the weather report yesterday morning, however, so kind of expected this. Sadly, for Mr. Murphy that is, I took care of the lawn yesterday. Daddy made a smart ass remark about Mr. Murphy being disappointed. I quipped back that he could be a good neighbor and go tell him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">A little later, I was mowing against the neighbors chain link fence. I thought it odd the way a weed had grown into the fence but paid it no further mind. When I was about two inches from the weed, I noticed that the weed was moving . . . and that it wasn't a weed!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q9Xj0wASn4g/VAzAaZCB5wI/AAAAAAAAAjc/UmN4vBfk_bE/s1600/smake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q9Xj0wASn4g/VAzAaZCB5wI/AAAAAAAAAjc/UmN4vBfk_bE/s1600/smake.jpg" height="107" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I peed my pants!!!</span><br />
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-70672830024280203162014-08-30T15:47:00.001-04:002014-08-30T15:47:53.248-04:00Opening Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh690nM9_sASvilpaUS_kYx4RJU7YS1wJxEK9ZzxRz1LlYPCSWb5DRr4g3ejyTlxCGUDA5SkwsAq12Cj-4zKpJ7yhuFSX9RndOOAhEWLxYePkoYuEEJPFbWXvOXgWH9rHSCU8_U0AQD_I9R/s1600/Go_Gators_by_powerbook125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh690nM9_sASvilpaUS_kYx4RJU7YS1wJxEK9ZzxRz1LlYPCSWb5DRr4g3ejyTlxCGUDA5SkwsAq12Cj-4zKpJ7yhuFSX9RndOOAhEWLxYePkoYuEEJPFbWXvOXgWH9rHSCU8_U0AQD_I9R/s1600/Go_Gators_by_powerbook125.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-1158427579307878342014-06-22T21:40:00.001-04:002014-06-22T21:40:52.480-04:00Damned Nose Bleeds<span lang=""></span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I get these horrific nose bleeds.</span></span></div>
<span lang="">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
</span><div align="JUSTIFY">
<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may not have a nose bleed for months. And then my nose will pour blood for days in a row. Usually, they occur after a nice relaxing hot shower. I'm drying off only to see my beautiful new towel covered w blood. Want to know a great way to ruin a nice relaxing hot shower - follow it by trying to shove tissue into your nose, a nose thats spewing blood everywhere you look, w hands that are soaking wet and so making the tissue soaking wet, while your blood covered face makes you look like a well fed zombie. Clearly, in case my frustration is not obvious enough, I just had another nose bleed. I'm sitting at my laptop, wearing yet another blood stained towel, w tissue shoved up my left nostril. And its always the fucking left nostril!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And since I knew better than to try going straight to bed, I turned on my laptop. I made that mistake before of going right to bed and woke up the next morning to a bloody pillow and bloody sheet. My mom, it was when I was still a teenager, was convinced the blood had all come from my vagina and that I was newly sexually active. I kept saying - "my pillow - really?" Now do realize, I was already sexually active - but the blood was from my nose dang it!!!! I turned to my favorite sites on blogger and realized I have been a very bad girl. I'm sorry. I've just been busy having wonderful moments to blog later (smiling). But since I'm sitting here looking stupid w what looks like a tampon up my nose, and since I've been bad to blogger . . . </span></div>
<span lang="">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. . . . It only seems appropriate now to admit to one of my most embarrassing moments ever.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was still in high school. I wasn't like the biggest slut at our school, but I wasn't exactly the most pristine either. I was about average. Laughing. Anyway, I had been dating this guy for a few months. We had not had sex yet, but we were probably working towards it. As it happened, I was on my period this particular night. We'd gone to a movie and were necking pretty serious in the parking lot afterwards. He was clearly hinting at getting a blowjob. I let him hint for a good long while even though I'd already decided I would do that for him. What can I say to defend myself, young girls who think they're in love. When I began undoing his pants, I smiled because I could hear his breathing change from excitement. Thinking back, I believe his was the second dick I had taken between my lips. I'm sure my lack of experience was telling in my lack of skill, but my audience wasn't complaining. I'm bobbing away on his dick when I lean back to take a break and to kiss him on his lips. I ran the back of my hand along my nose because it felt a little wet, I was surprised to see my hand covered w something . . . something I soon determined was blood. He's in shock because he doesn't know what's going on. I later learn that my face became smeared w blood when I wiped my hand across it; and it was my face smeared w blood that he saw. He told me he at first thought the blood had come from him. He checked his pants and there was the sight I have tried long to forget - his dick, thighs, and pants covered in bright red blood. Neither of us made any real effort to see the other one again. There was no recovering from a moment like that.</span></div>
</span><br />rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-1999359870128490942014-05-15T20:58:00.002-04:002014-05-15T20:58:37.183-04:00Deja Vu<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know it's been a while since I've done much posting. It's been even longer since I've read over my past posts. Been doing both lately and too funny - just learned something else about myself. Apparently, when I am super-horny and just wanting to get laid, I like it from behind. No talking. No distractions. No pleasantries. Just pound me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<a href="http://naughtyrachel-xx.blogspot.com/2013/07/bend-me-over-bed.html" target="">Bend Me Over</a> <span style="font-family: Arial;">(In case I blow setting up the link - it's July 28, 2013)</span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48m3i3CVY9z8YU4wCAGp0JMMZKSAxtxu-Pyp-Ck-7UbUB7VH8LmICkHU-K-4MTQjics2nvA1L6fgCbGp0h_jRSZJNBR2d0hE_plCkIZV7-25YnJbnk4cDls8FOVrs6GN7B7z6ALehpbvq/s1600/tumblr_myo216W3fW1t6mg92o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48m3i3CVY9z8YU4wCAGp0JMMZKSAxtxu-Pyp-Ck-7UbUB7VH8LmICkHU-K-4MTQjics2nvA1L6fgCbGp0h_jRSZJNBR2d0hE_plCkIZV7-25YnJbnk4cDls8FOVrs6GN7B7z6ALehpbvq/s1600/tumblr_myo216W3fW1t6mg92o1_500.gif" height="203" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Too funny!!! </span></div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-23988853901874546672014-05-11T13:29:00.001-04:002014-05-11T13:29:45.475-04:00Sunday and Mr. Murphy<div align="justify">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17lsMVuYUy193yHp2kXIjUmEKocpqMKzG1MB-nldmG9hLv1PzCk-dDp7ZTgWFa0ch1Wt4KcjlEu9bqWC98dpQ9n307VNgm3ISG5EezbfkNxnSW0i8H87reMgOCiFN1OgojYYv3JNB_0Ak/s1600/bikini+lawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17lsMVuYUy193yHp2kXIjUmEKocpqMKzG1MB-nldmG9hLv1PzCk-dDp7ZTgWFa0ch1Wt4KcjlEu9bqWC98dpQ9n307VNgm3ISG5EezbfkNxnSW0i8H87reMgOCiFN1OgojYYv3JNB_0Ak/s1600/bikini+lawn.jpg" height="395" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's Sunday. It's time to mow the lawn again. Gotta keep the lawn looking good and Mr. Murphy smiling.</span></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
<a href="http://naughtyrachel-xx.blogspot.com/2013/08/me-and-mr-murphy.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://naughtyrachel-xx.blogspot.com/2013/08/me-and-mr-murphy.html</span></a></div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
</div>
rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5753616301008298440.post-83620868912859133832014-05-06T23:27:00.000-04:002014-05-06T23:27:01.062-04:00Booty Call<span lang=""></span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know what it is w the Boyfriend and me.</span></span></div>
<span lang="">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know if we're each other's safety net . . . or the anchor around each other's neck. It may be a combination of both. He's my safety net. And I'm the anchor around his neck.</span></span></div>
<span lang="">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
</span><div align="JUSTIFY">
<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Randi and I went out w the girls the other night. We all know what that means - a whole lot of drinking and a whole lot of talking about sex. The girls, who I met through Randi, are not lightweights in either category. When I talk w the guys, they tell me that girls night out is nothing like boys night out. Drinking seems to be the only thing each has in common. First off, drunk girls dance. There are going to be bodies rubbing against bodies - laughing - obviously not something which happens on guys night out. Another difference, Wide Load told me that men might say who they've "tagged", but don't really get into details. Fuck that!!! Girls get into detail. We want the dirt!!!</span></span></div>
<span lang="">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a hot wet evening if you know what I mean.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heading home, I texted the Boyfriend, "you home". I was sure he'd probably gone to sleep when I got his response, "yup". I texted again, "want some company". It's moments like that, waiting for his response, which make me so damned glad I'm not a guy. I don't know how y'all deal w the constant threat of rejection. I was anxious waiting for him to text back. And yet, I swear I was getting more wet w the excitement too. I'm sure it was only seconds, but it felt like forever, when I got his text, "what makes you think I don't have company". Oh shit, I hadn't thought of that. Even so, I was pretty sure he was teasing. If he had a girl over, the date had to be going pretty bad for him to be texting w me. I remember laughing at the image of me showing up, walking in, and tagging her hand - "you're out, I'm in".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Want more company", I responded, smiling to myself.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="JUSTIFY">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just before arriving, I texted him w what I wanted. It's so much easier to text it than to say it. "No warm up needed. I'm ready for you. Just put me on my knees and fuck me hard. Hair pulling and spankings are optional".</span></div>
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boyfriend handled everything w passion . . . including the options.</span>rachel-xxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12878589225548770591noreply@blogger.com10