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Fri, Sep. 2nd, 2005, 03:16 am
ladycrimsonskye: (no subject)

I can't sleep.

I thought about you, and how I'd like you to be here now. When the house is finally quiet...

I want to see you, I want to touch...

We go clothes shopping in the morning. I can't sleep. This is not a good combination.

I really should sleep, but I can't.

It's all your fault!

Sun, Mar. 20th, 2005, 05:59 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Goodies for you and Me!

I once had a "goodie jar" that an ex-boyfriend made up. It was pretty simple really, glass jar, with slips of paper that could be randomly selected and read. On each slip of paper were short duties, or suggestions of something fun/kinky/sexy/romantic/... you get the idea. I have been thinking about re-creating that jar of goodies again.

Do any of you have some suggestions for "goodies" I could add? Just to give you an idea or two, I'll list a few that I can remember:

* Trail kisses from the nape of the neck, all the way to the base of the spine.
* Delicately bite your lover's nipples.
* Bring yourself to orgasm while your lover watches.
* Reveal the word or words that turn you on the most.
* Strip for your lover's pleasure.

possibly x-posted here or there.

Sun, Mar. 20th, 2005, 02:48 pm
ladycrimsonskye: His Hands

By Greta Christina

This is what she thinks about, when she thinks about him. She doesn't think about his eyes, like she likes to tell herself; or about this lips, like she'd tell her friends if they knew about him; or about his cock, like she tells him when she's in a good mood. She thinks about his hands.

When he wants her, it's always his hands that go first. Brushing lightly against her face. Sneaking up on her thigh. Massaging the back of her neck, and then inching down over her collarbones to entice her breasts. His hands are smart -- smarter than he is, probably -- and his hands are sweet when they want to be, and they can make her feel calm and drifty, safe and befriended.

But it isn't these nice sweet things she thinks about. His hands also do things that make her blush when she remembers, things that make her flinch and quickly look for something to stare at on the floor, convinced that anyone who sees her can read her mind. When she thinks about his hands, these are the things she thinks about.

She thinks about his hands pressing her against the wall, one hand pinning her shoulders, the other sliding up her skirt, pushing between her legs, reaching for her clit like it belongs to him. No, not like it belongs to him. Like a thief. Like he knows it doesn't belong to him and is taking it anyway.

She thinks about his hands pressing her thighs apart, again like a thief, like a cat burglar opening a window and climbing inside. She thinks about his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers coiling in her hair and tightening; she thinks about his other hand gripping her by the wrist, guiding her own hand between his legs, making her feel his swelling crotch. She thinks about his hands on her arms, shaking impatient, maneuvering her body into place.

She thinks about his fingers spreading her lips open down there, prying her apart, exposing her clit and studying it fervently as if he's reading her soul. When he opens her up like that, she feels like he is revealing her soul, like her soul has been hiding in her clit and he's discovered it at last: her true soul, the selfish one, the dirty one, the one who wants to quit her job and abandon her friends and family and spend the rest of her life on her back, on her hands and knees, pressed against a wall, with his hand between her legs.

She thinks he's a bad idea. She thinks she doesn't love him. She thinks that if she loves him, she wouldn't feel so dirty all the time. She thinks that if she loved him, she'd think about his eyes, his lips, even his cock, at least sometimes. She thinks that if she loved him, she wouldn't be spending every spare moment thinking about his hands.

She thinks about his hands. And finds her own hand knocking at his door.

* * *

Who's hands are you thinking of, or are you thinking about some other body part?

Tue, Mar. 8th, 2005, 02:48 pm
ladycrimsonskye: (no subject)

Today's word is: Meow

Your task (as members), if you choose to accept, is to write a short comment or story inspired by this particular word.

Sat, Jan. 22nd, 2005, 07:47 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Mmmm... naughty boy!

Just because he wants me to say, I'd like my bare breasts beating against his face... doesn't mean I have to say it.  *nods*

Sat, Jan. 22nd, 2005, 12:29 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Word of the Day (When I remember...)

 Today's word is: Provocative

Your task (as members), if you choose to accept, is to write a short comment or story inspired by this particular word.

Wed, Jan. 19th, 2005, 08:13 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Woo! I remembered.

 Today's word is: Meld

Your task (as members), if you choose to accept, is to write a short comment or story inspired by this particular word.

Fri, Jan. 7th, 2005, 10:23 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Word of the Day.

 Today's word is: Succulent

Your task (as members), if you choose to accept, is to write a short comment or story inspired by this particular word.

Wed, Jan. 5th, 2005, 11:36 pm
ladycrimsonskye: Word of the Day, Reborn

 Today's word is: Silky

Your task (as members), if you choose to accept, is to write a short comment or story inspired by this particular word.

Wed, Nov. 10th, 2004, 08:46 pm
ladycrimsonskye: My first story post here. Please be gentle.

 

Please leave me a comment if you read... if you don't, I'm not inspired to write anymore, or at the very least, I'm not going to be willing to share.

X-posted here and there.

He and She: Cut for Length.Collapse )

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